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greenandsorrow · 5 days

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the price for misbehaving (ii)

post rut Alastor x gn!reader

WARNINGS; the aftermath of a very horny fic, mentions of deer mating season, friends to lovers, deer/doe!demon!reader, reader with self worth doubts, a sprinkle of angst, curly-haired!Alastor, undertones of Alastor being a momma's boy, mentions of his past, making out, fluff (literally), plot

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either.❤️

From a smutty oneshot to a multi chap fic. Nothing can compare to the chunkiness of the 1st chapter, but I'm satisfied with this one as well. Enjoy you lovely beings and thanks for being patient with me!!! The art above is by @kalico-of-doom.

~masterpost~

The only time Alastor isn't smiling is when he's sleeping you have come to realize. You can't help but notice how tired he looks as you lay motionless beside him. You start petting his ears and he groans softly, nuzzling deeper into your touch without even bothering to open his eyes. A small smile forms on his mouth, a real one. Is this really the same man that has been fucking you until your legs stop working?

In the morning you wake up in his bed, a daily occurrence at this point. However, you weren't expecting him to be staring deeply into your contemned soul.

"A- Al?"

Your voice is hoarse from sleep. You scratch your deer ears, flop on your back and stretch. Alastor keeps staring, studying you and every micro expression you make.

You can feel fear creeping into your gut. Is this the end? Is the rutting season gone? Does he want to kill you and eat you now? Will he kick you out? One thing is certain.

He doesn't need you anymore.

After all, you were just a friend helping him go through a difficult time. Nothing more. Still, you would be lying to yourself if you said that you haven't caught any feelings. From his forceful claiming that hid a great deal of desperation to his tender claiming last night, Alastor has left more than just his mark on you. One could say that he owns you in the most primal and raw of ways, but if he chooses to deny that... that's all it takes really, then you were nothing but a fucktoy.

"Um... I- I'm gonna take a shower"

Is that you doing the walk of shame? Alastor is a gentleman, why isn't he saying anything?! Not a single thing that could make you feel less terrible about the whole situation!

Now that his hormones have died down and you are far from aroused as well, getting out of bed and standing completely naked in front of him... It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, small and inferior to him.

This new emotion, the deep embarrassment that has your face feeling hot and your stomach to churn with anxiety makes you dress up and leave "your friend's" room in the speed of light.

You lock yourself in your much smaller room, preparing a bubble bath for your spent and tired body. You smile to yourself a little, remembering how Charlie had made sure you'd have your own bathtub so that you can read your books while soaking in the warm water.

Sinking in the water, having it envelope you, cleanse your energy and take his scent off of you feels nice. You let your eyes droop until they close lazily, you allow your shoulders to relax, your jaw to unclench. A long and audible sigh. Your hands around your frame.

You start crying.

If another deer demon resided in the hotel, he might as well had spent his breeding season with them. You weren't special. The mere thought of such a thing is killing you. You were just another victim of the radio demon's manipulation.

Still, it's your fault as well. For believing this was more than what it appeared to be? Maybe. You are getting more and more confused by the minute.

But oh the way he had been repeating your name like a prayer... It must mean something to him, you being there for him that is. You didn't even judge the way he had spilled tears of sexual frustration when handjobs weren't enough to relieve the ache in his loins.

Who else has seen Alastor Hartfelt of pride under this light? No one. You are the only exception. He wouldn't have allowed you to get so close to him if he didn't trust you.

As your thoughts keep overlapping and fighting with each other and you continue to cry softly, you peak up the all too familiar sound of static.

Another unfair thing! He can melt into shadow and go anywhere he pleases... The sound intensifies as he approaches... you? Is he really thinking of invading your space like that? You can't even cry and be miserable at peace! Not like you're in Hell.

"Bonjou! Konmen s'apé kouri? Huh?"

Not only are you not in the mood to ask him to translate what he just said, but Alastor literally spawned in your bathroom and he's now acting like this is okay to do. The way he's readjusting his lapels and smiles smugly like he wasn't a grunting mess last night infuriates you even further.

"Can you please get the fuck out of here?"

"Mh?" he just stands there in his usual apathy. He's even holding his cane.

"Can you at least stop smiling for a second?"

"Oh ho! I'm afraid I can't do that my dear!"

"But you can definitely get your ass out of my room! I-" The sound of your voice carries to your ears like a child whining. There's a lump in your throat that you're beginning to fear you won't be able to keep down for much longer. If your face and hair weren't already wet from the bath, then it would be crystal clear that you were weeping like an idiot before he suit himself in.

Alastor is quick to gauge your body language. You're hugging your knees, shielding your naked body from him. Sometimes you swear he can tell your emotional state by sniffing the air around you. It's like your scent is enough for him to piece together the puzzle you are. The radio demon scranches his nose.

"What's there to be so sad over y/n? Today is a beautiful day!"

Is he playing stupid?! Because if he's doing this on purpose... Well, there's not much you can do now that he doesn't need you anymore.

Your lower lip trembles at this terrible thought and the lump in your throat escapes your notice, resulting in a broken and weak sob to come out of you.

Tilting his head to the side way more than necessary and squinting his eyes, Alastor asks "Are you pregnant?"

You freeze and widen your eyes. "I- Is that even... even fuckin' possible in the afterlife?"

The fucker chuckles!

"Oh I don't think so, at least not for lowly demons such as yourself!" The worst part is that he wasn't trying to insult you by saying that, but rather calm you down.

"Go to Hell."

"Ironic."

You can't help it now. You break down in tears. Your chest feels tight as the sobs ripple through your body and make your frame retreat to itself. In addition to your general misery, the water has gone cold, causing you to shiver.

The overlord places his cane against the tiles of the wall and crouches down so he is eye-level with you. He won't let it show just yet, but Alastor is very worried. There's a guilt eating him from the inside.

While he was in heat, in breeding mode, or whatever you wanna call it, he wasn't fully aware of his actions. Alastor's mind was blurred from the desire to mate and basically reproduce. Now that he's back to his senses, he has come to the unpleasant realisation that he might have caused you harm in the process of letting out his passion.

And this simply won't do! This deer demon has done cruel and vile things that he doesn't particularly feel bad about, but hurting you... He would never be able to forgive himself.

You were there for him and showed him a great deal of love and understanding.

So, that's the reason you left so hurriedly from his quarters... He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. HE DID IT TO YOU.

Alastor's permanent grin fades just slightly. It is replaced by concern, evident in the way he looks at your trembling body in the water. He reaches out to gently touch your skin, checking for any signs of pain or discomfort. Your friend's voice softens, it's now filled with genuine worry and regret.

"I'm so sorry darling... I didn't know I caused you... pain."

It's true that you have many bruises and hickeys decorating various places on your body, but that's not the reason behind your breakdown.

"I- It's not th-" you just look down. You can't even explain yourself.

The radio demon's worry deepens after your vague response and he quickly takes action to be by your side, pulling you out of the bathtub and into a tight hug. Alastor whispers reassurances in your ear, his voice filled with remorse.

"I'm so sorry... We should have stopped when it got too much."

No one has heard Alastor apologize before, not even God, for all that's worth.

His expression softens even further as he sees your tears that just keep coming. He carefully brushes them away, worry etched into every line of his handsome face.

"I didn't mean to make you cry. You must know that."

"I'm not in pain... Just sad."

You do look rather devastated.

Alastor is almost frozen in place from all the guilt since he can now see the bruises forming on your skin. The water camouflaged them, but now they are exposed for him to observe and take in.

He swallows hard, his voice shaking with emotion like never before. "Y/n... I didn't mean to do that. I didn't. None of it."

"None of it?"

Your voice is muffled due to how you have hid your face in his chest. At least he's warm.

"My intention wasn't to cause you injury or physical pain."

You look up at him, finally making eye contact. He's looking at you as well, eyes shining with regret, guilt and what appears to be shame.

What really surprises you though, is the pleading tone of his voice. It's one thing to be vulnerable because he's hungry for sexual contact and another because he genuinely cares for you.

"Can you ever forgive me for this? I promise, it was never my true intention. I just... I got carried away. And now... It's not an excuse..."

"You really meant none of it to happen between us?"

"Now now little deer! Someone's getting ahead of themselves! That's not what I implied at all."

You sigh and settle in his lap.

"Oh mon cher, did you really think I regret our... stimulating times?"

Alastor's long arms press you against him, his clothes absorbing the water on your still bare skin. He then peaks you up bridal style and carries you to your bed. It's not king sized like his but he doesn't seem to care for such detail right now.

"Now let me see you."

"I said I'm fine!"

"The artist will be the evaluator of his work."

"No Al! Artists get critics to evaluate their work."

"Hmmm, did you say something dear? Cause I didn't hear you!"

It's a common tactic of his to hide his real feelings by being chatty and pleasant. You of course know that, but in your current state it's very validating to have him take care of you.

So he did care. And he still does after having stopped necessarily needing you.

Alastor isn't joking around. He's searching your body, subconsciously writing down every scratch, every bruise and hickey, every bite mark.

Ears alert on top of his head, eyes wide open. He can even make out the shape of his fingertips on your hips... He turns you on your stomach only to discover his whole palms are imprinted on your buttocks. Meanwhile, you just allow him to inspect your body for as long as he wishes. All the crying has left you drained but also tranquil and calm.

"I'm fine Al. Really."

"Shhh, I'm not done evaluating the damage."

"It's just a bite or two."

"I drew so much blood..."

"Yes and?"

He just keeps observing, keeps rolling you this way and that. The scratches and the bruises are the most triggering to him. They remind Alastor of unhappy memories, in the days when he still hadn't taken good care of his father. As long as he hasn't permanently marked you it should be fine.

"I'll ask Niffty for some ice."

"N- no... Can we just... sit here? Like... cuddle?"

"You were my solace."

"What-"

He gently presses a finger on your lips to shush you.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to say that. It's not like I helped you with a flat tire or something."

"I don't do cuddling."

"Nor touching for that matter. But... It's not that bad, huh? Just let me put something on first."

You stand up and go to your closet to pick something to put on. Your hair is still wet and your legs still feel sore from all of your intense moments, but it was a relief to know he still wants you in his life after the rut has ended.

Alastor's behaviour makes you wonder. He's contradictory. From fucking your throat in his radio station, to bending you over various objects in the hotel, taking you in missionary, against walls, windows and doors, he still seems pretty reluctant to give himself to intimacy. Unlike those times, his mind is now clear, no overwhelming heat involved. Intimacy -to him- equals vulnerability and vulnerability equals pain. The inevitable way in which things had worked out in his life.

"But we did sleep together until yesterday."

The radio demon cannot deny you. He's already sat at the edge of your bed, taking off his coat, shoes and anything else that could make the experience any less enjoyable.

"I wish I could say you'll take this to your grave."

You grin brightly and chuckle at his silly, little remark. Your confidence has been restored to an extent after he made it clear that he does concern himself with your wellbeing.

"But why do you not like being touched? Physical contact is a form of affection."

"Or a form of punishment, of intimidation, domination and... many other vile things my dear..." His voice is too low for your liking as he says that. You don't know what burdens Alastor's shoulders, but it can't be good. And I'm not even referring to his own cruelty and the pain he has inflicted on others. Maybe his opinion of physical contact is connected to the endless scars on his body.

"Oh well whatevs Al. I just want my cuddles."

The way his ears are pulled back and he looks at you almost like he's a shy and innocent boy makes your heart bit faster. At least there's no velvet rubbing off his antlers this time.

Alastor is extremely gentle and cautious in the way he handles you now. He lays down on his back and you use his chest as a pillow. It's a cozy place. His chest. He has some fluff there, just like Angel Dust, but unlike the former he hides it under layers of clothing and keeps it unstyled. Still, it's undoubtedly soft and fuzzy and you like to sink your hand in it or swirl the soft hairs around your fingertips. The radio demon isn't complaining as one might expect, it's soothing to have someone touch his body in a non-hostile manner. It's refreshing to have someone appreciate his body as it is.

Would you also appreciate it if you saw him as he once was?

His father hadn't. He could handle the child of a mixed marriage, but Alastor wasn't just mixed, but also looked the part and according to the racist beliefs of his father in the 1900's that was a bad thing.

As you're nuzzling against his long and elegant neck, your friend's mind wanders. You lived during the 90's. What would it have been like if he had also lived during that period? Everything would have been different. The town he grew up in, his relationship with his parents, his career as a radio host and a serial killer.

"Did you know that my hair is naturally curly?"

Your ears perk up at that and Alastor gently takes hold of them and pulls at them from the root, just slightly.

"That feels nice..."

"Oh I know."

"What were you saying?"

"Oh yes, my hair's curly! Since I was nothing but a tiny, adorable baby boy! ...my mother... she..." His hand lets go of your ears and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh.

There's a melancholy about him now and you feel the need to comfort him. He's opening up to you by being genuine and vulnerable. Alastor is sharing a part of who he used to be and the least you can do is listen. You resume your activities on his fluff, almost massaging the area. He seems to like it, for a moment closing his eyes and letting a sound like purring.

"Can you keep this up?"

"Sure Al."

"Merci. What was I saying...? Oh yes of course! Mama and my curly mop."

The radio effect of his voice and his arms around you make you feel like you're a kid being told a bedtime story. It's a good thing the other residents have gotten used to you and Alastor disappearing together for long periods of time. His soft chest fluff under the pads of your fingers only intensifies the feeling of being told a story while tucked in bed, warm and safe from the outside world.

"It's truly amazing how much power is given to hair in certain cultures. In my culture, dear y/n, hair texture served as an indicator of social status. My family -a wedding between a white man and a creole woman of colour... oh ho dear! It was something else back then...-

As a kid, I was always the one teased for having “weird hair”, as if it didn’t match my other facial features. When school began, my sweet mama, she... she would put my hair in locs to protect the curls. Apparently they didn't like that at school! So my father... he radio static intensifies he made my mother shave it. He claimed that if my mother and I wore our hair differently then no one would take us seriously."

You take a moment to digest this new piece information. It's true that locs enclose the natural hair and help it stay intact. It's also true that Alastor grew up in a time when it was very difficult to be of a cultural background which was different to the majority's. You choose to not comment on anything, that's not your job.

You swirl some more of his fluff around your fingertips before moving your hand to his hair.

"Well, it's not curly in the afterlife."

You feel the vibration of his chuckle through your check that is resting on his chest.

"But it is!"

Alastor lets out a satisfied sound as he presses you even tighter against him and begins rumbling about his hair care routine. He uses anti frizz oils, heat protection oils and then blow dries it. Truth is, that's just the steps you managed to actually register in your brain, because a sleepiness started overtaking you as you stayed laying in his embrace.

You're now fading between consciousness and unconsciousness. It almost feels like you're floating. Is this what Heaven is like?

Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But you did manage to find your little oasis in Hell. And so did he.

Alastor looks down at your much smaller frame curled up against him. Your breath has slowed down and your eyes are closing. Why does it feel so warm and soft to have you close to him like this? He knows he shouldn't be letting his guard down, but he can't help it when it comes to you. The radio demon is enamoured with you.

Wanting to make the experience even cozier and dreamier for his favourite sinner, Alastor starts singing quietly. His sense of rhythm is immaculate and his jazzy tunes make you fall sound asleep in no time whatsoever.

When you wake up an hour or so later, he still hasn't moved, but he acknowledges that you're awake with a small hum.

"Oh wakey wakey my darling y/n!" had been his usual response to you waking up while he was in the rut. However, right now he appears to be much more unguarded and raw than his usual persona. You haven't even completely woken up and you're already wondering about this new side of him.

"Al? Is everything okay?"

"Oh why yes it is, but there's this thought occupying my brilliant mind..."

"Care to share it with my not so brilliant one?"

You expected him to laugh or even chuckle but Alastor goes straight to the point. "All this... making love and we still haven't kissed. Not really."

Kissing him would mean that you actually view him romantically and that whatever "friends with benefits" situation you had going on will get destroyed. That's not a bad thing though. Despite your initial fears of your fellow deer demon being too emotionally unavailable and only needing you to calm down the torment of his lust, a kiss wouldn't hurt. Kisses are good.

"We can change that y'know."

You make the first step by leaning towards him, basically giving him the green light that you're consenting to this. Alastor notices it and loses no time, pressing his lips against yours while wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close into another embrace. He smiles widely as you kiss, his head tilting slightly as he runs his fingers through your hair. After a few seconds pass, he pulls his head back, slowly breaking the kiss as he looks into your eyes with a broad smile on his face.

"Aren't you delightful?!" and he dives back in.

Alastor's second kiss with you is firm and passionate, but not overly aggressive. His lips are very warm and he seems to enjoy the intimacy of taking his time to explore your mouth. As the kiss progresses, he gradually increases the pressure of his lips on yours. His arms wrap around your waist and his tongue slowly wanders further into the welcoming heat of your mouth.

Once again -just like when it came to sex- you have come to the conclusion that Alastor isn't that experienced, but some raw power, an instinct if you will, provides him with the ability to do all the right moves at the right time.

And then you just break character. You burst into laughter. His large and pointed ears twitch at that change of pace.

"When I thought I was doing a good job-"

"Oh no, that's not it at all. I'm just happy." You're giddy and so is he.

Maybe not needing you but actually wanting you isn't the worst case scenario.

To be continued.

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sleepingelvhen · 4 months

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Sleeping Spider Lily Pt.1

Blade/Reader NSFW Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- [🌹Part 4🌹] Minors DO NOT interact MASTERLIST Once, you were in love with a man called Yingxing. That man died during his involvement with Dan Feng’s betrayal. At least, so you thought. Jing Yuan helped you through your turmoil, comforted you in your pain, and eventually you were able to move on and live your life. Little did you know your lover was simply lying in wait. After years of suffering and pain, Blade arrives on the Luofu with a mission at hand, everything planned for him. That is until he sees you…and all the memories come flooding back.

Days stretched on as if they were years upon years. Every moment nearly torture since you lost the love of your life. You knew Jing Yuan could see it on your face, the numbness in your voice, the distant look in your eyes, the way your body moved robotically during your work in the commission. It was probably a depressing sight, but all sense of self disappeared when Yingxing was gone, and it was impossible to bring yourself back.

You blamed yourself first, lectured yourself on how you could have supported him better, understood him better to stop what he was planning. Then you started blaming the Imbibitor Lunae, focused your attention on your hatred towards the Vidhyadharan high elder for leading Yingxing to his betrayal and death.

Then, when there was no one to blame, when you had to face the reality of his death, you fell into a depression that made it impossible for Jing Yuan to sit aside and watch anymore. He stepped in and pulled you up and suddenly you were on different kinds of missions.

Instead of working on papers and writing reports to the commission, you were going out on patrols with the cloud knights or even with Jing Yuan himself. He talked your ear off, took you out to tea or dinner, he made sure you had company and that you were never alone with your thoughts. Jing Yuan helped you stand and helped you move on. He knew what you needed, and he became your best friend over the many, many years.

Your life filled with new passions and new friends, Jing Yuan shared in your pain and together you kept living. You became a sword in the dark for him, you hunted in the night and fought for Jing Yuan when he couldn’t step away. Together you were a force the Luofu trusted to keep them safe. Finally, you were healing from the pain that seemed to last centuries. Finally you were happy.

The Aeons seemed dissatisfied with your suffering, however. Or maybe your luck had completely run dry. Whatever it was, your mind reeled from what you saw before you.

He walked down the hallway of the Shackling Prison, two guards at his sides, his arms tied in front of him, head low. You watched as his long silky hair swayed with each step, a familiar gait once prideful with long strides was now slow and meticulous.

The blackish-blue hair was familiar, a reminder of when he was young, when you first met him. It was strange at first, having once gotten used to the white color he sported as he aged. But, you found yourself thrown right back to the past. The way he would stare at you, the way his hair felt in your fingers.

The past is gone now. Eyes that once looked upon you with affection now glowed red with anger and bloodlust, a smirk glowering on his face as he looked up at Jing Yuan who had Yanqing at his side, sword at the ready.

"Do you remember me?" Jing Yuan asked, shocking you to your core. He had known...of course he had.

“I do...Of five people, three must pay a price,” he spoke, his voice gravely and deep, daunting in the dark. It echoed in the silent, near empty room, a voice that sounded all too familiar. A voice that made tears spring into your eyes. “You…are not one of them, Jing Yuan.”

You simply watched the scene before you, eyes wide, your body hidden in the shadows of the prison. Your lip trembled along with your fingers, as if your whole body was cold, except you were on the verge of a complete breakdown.

None of the words Jing Yuan said after that registered in your mind, like your ears were completely muffled. Everything around you spun, your eyes only able to see Yingxing, or rather what he had become after years of whatever had happened to him.

This wasn’t the Yingxing you knew…the way he looked at Jingyuan, the way he stood, it was all in anticipation of violence. But he looked like him and you wanted it to be him, your eyes roamed his entire body in desperation for anything that looked like the man he used to be.

You watched him cock his head to the side, his now red eyes quickly glancing to the sides of the room, as if noting the amount of guards in the room, or looking for something. Then his eyes shot to the side, towards where you hid in the far back of the room.

The shadows should have cloaked you, no one ever saw you when you stood here. But his eyes stopped right where you stood, his eyes widening for just a moment. You swore you saw the curve of his mouth fall. It lasted all but a second before his eyes were back on Jing Yuan, the facade of pride back upon his face, like it never happened. Like he never saw you.

“He’s alive!?” You punched your bathroom mirror, tears streaming down your face as you stared at your broken reflection. Jing Yuan stood behind you, leaning against the doorway, his eyes downcast. For once his face was solemn, regretful.

You gripped the sides of the sink, gritting your teeth, trying to stop yourself from sobbing. Years of stitched up pain, of wounds you thought had healed, they all came flooding back. Like blood, the memories spilled out, swallowing all thoughts, forcing you to relive everything all over again.

“He’s alive…” Jing Yuan finally spoke, trying not to cause you more pain. “I’m sorry.”

Deep breaths did nothing to dwindle the anxiety as you turned to face him.

“How long…how long have you known?”

Jing Yuan looked up at you, mouth open, before he stopped himself. His mouth shut as he sighed and looked down at the floor. Of course he had known. All these years, your closest friend had known the love of your life was alive and kept it a secret. Your voice shook as your shoulders slumped, turning away from Jing Yuan.

“Just…just leave…please.”

He said nothing, leaving you alone in your pain. The night was filled with tears and loud sobbing, your face stained and red, eyes sore and burning.

Sleep eluded you, every time you shut your eyes, images of him filled your mind. Yingxing, your lover, now someone you barely recognized. It was impossible, a terrifying prospect, and the worst thing to happen to you now. All the healing, the years of pain…was all of it for nothing? Questions racked your mind until you were too tired to think but also too tired to sleep. And before you knew it, light filtered into your room as morning came and alongside morning, came Jing Yuan and even more bad news.

“What do you mean he escaped!?” You couldn’t help your voice rising, the exhaustion evident in your tone. Jing Yuan simply watched you struggle with the information, his eyes saddened by the pain you dealt with.

“I mean, sometime last night, he broke out of his holding cell, and we suspect he is still somewhere on the Luofu.” Jing Yuan sighed, rubbing his temples. Obviously this situation was affecting him just as badly. He was already notorious for barely getting sleep, it would be a wonder if he had even a moment of rest last night.

“Fuck…fuck…” You pulled back your hair. Everything was quickly going to shit. Jing Yuan had not only caught you up on the new status of Yingxing, who apparently now went by Blade, but also on the fact that there was probably a Stellaron on board the Luofu and that the Stellaron Hunters were involved with both incidents.

“Look, I know this isn’t an ideal situation but,” Jing Yuan sighed again before looking at you. “I’m telling you this because I don’t want you getting involved.”

“What? Why? This is literally my job!”

“Because,” Jing Yuan put his hand on your shoulder, his touch able to calm down your shivers a little bit. “Your past relationship with Ying–Blade–I don’t want you getting hurt even more…”

Your shoulders slumped and you nodded slowly. It made sense, Jing Yuan knew that everything was only causing you pain. He had your best interest in mind but…your eyebrows strewn together and your breath caught in your throat.

“Fine.” Ying Yuan was satisfied and that made the guilt a little worse. Because you knew you were lying. The nighttime was your hunting ground. And Yingxing or rather, Blade, would not run away. Not again, not without the answers you so craved.

#blade x reader #multi chap fic #fanfic #eventual smut #hsr smut #blade hsr #hsr x reader #jing yuan #blade smut

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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

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Ritornello (Alastor x Cursed!Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any but please correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 3,565

Previous Part: Rhapsody

Next Part: Rapture

Master Lists:

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A/N Okay I know that canonically Charlie is like 200 but we're gonna make her 25.

After everything with Alastor, Y/n tried to continued their life as it had been before he'd stepped into. It was challenging, they faltered and misstepped. They had been good at being on their own once but now that they had a taste of the alternative, it was difficult to fall back into their old ways. Eventually, they managed to fall into a new pattern of being.

They were a bit more careful now, they didn't dash out unannounced from behind corners or secret hiding places. Seeing Alastor was the last thing they wanted to do. Now, they had someone to avoid.

For seventeen years, they continued on like this. They struggled through their battles on their own, against the overlords and against their own personal situation. They searched high and low for a cure but the only things they ever seemed able to come up with were false promises and temporary fixes. Every day, the curse the overlords had placed on them to limit their powers was growing stronger. Every time they used their magic, played their music, it became more and more corrupted and so, they learned to fight with their hands. This was until they got the call from Lucifer, of course.

The pair were old friends of a sort. Y/n had met him by chance within their first few days in Hell when he'd pulled them out of a tight spot. They didn't spend time together ever or really see one another at all but, Y/n had a vague sort of trust for the man, a strong sense of a debt needing to be repaid. Y/n didn't like owing people things, not even back when they were alive. They didn't like depending on people in that way. When he asked them if they could keep an eye on his daughter, they couldn't refuse.

Charlie was a lot. At twelve years old, she was bright and over the top and constantly bursting out into song. At first, Y/n had been rather uncertain about the whole arrangement, even when she'd gone through her emo phase at fifteen.

Y/n tried to steer clear of them for the most part. Picking her up from school, dropping her off. Babysitting when her parents needed a night to themselves, the normal stuff. When the issues started between Lilith and Lucifer, Charlie was suddenly thrust into Y/n's life a lot more. She had no idea the real reason, both her parents wanting to keep the trouble from her due to their own care and protective natures, and Y/n tried their best to keep it that way. It didn't help that by sixteen, Charlie had practically moved in with the demon but they managed.

Charlie had always pushed for a connection, something more than Y/n making her dinner and getting her where she needed to go. Y/n resisted at all costs. They'd been hurt before by trust, by care. The idea of going through it all again was terrifying. That all changed the day Charlie found out about the curse.

Y/n hadn't meant for her to find out. One of their situation's many many downsides was that while the curse ate away at their magic, it also ate away at their physical form. If they weren't careful, if they didn't temper their emotions and make sure they were eating enough raw meat, the beast would take over.

The beast was a horrific thing in their eyes, blood hungry and devastating. It was sub-human, sub-demon even, writhing and scornful. A mass of twisting shells of prey, a mass of claws and sharp teeth.

Of course, Y/n couldn't keep it from Charlie forever and on one fateful evening, Y/n had transformed. They'd been overworked, stressed about the fact that the Vees were gaining more territory and power, that soon they would be practically untouchable. They had forgotten to take care of themselves in the rush of it all, prioritizing Charlie and their plans.

When they had come back to their senses, come back to themself, it had been to the sight of Charlie. With a damp rag held to their forehead by the demoness and a whole lot of bones from victims of their situation on the floor around them, they had opened their eyes. Y/n had expected Charlie to flinch, to run in fear, to tell Lucifer who knew nothing about the curse. Instead, she had smiled brightly and told Y/n she was glad they were okay. From that day forward, they were absolutely inseparable, completely attached at the hip.

With Charlie's help and cheerful influence, Y/n was beginning to learn how to exist. They loved the girl like she was their own and Charlie knew if she ever had an issue of any sort, she could go to Y/n about it. Even when Y/n had relayed the story of how they'd been cursed and why, there had been no issues, no qualms, nothing. Charlie promised her watcher that she would help them break the curse, no matter what it took.

It was watching Charlie come into herself as a young adult, watching her meet and fall in love with Vaggie that made the real difference. The princess of Hell was unapologetically herself and Vaggie took everything she had to offer with open arms. Slowly but surely, the search for a cure took a back seat as did Y/n's goal of taking down the overlords of Hell. Their life was different, but they were happy. They found themself wishing for the past, the one they had shared with Alastor, less and less, channeling their energy into the world around them. They didn't even notice when the reports started to come in that the Radio Demon of the overlords had seemingly vanished.

Things hadn't been without their challenges. Charlie's relationship with her dad was strained to say the least and when her mom had disappeared? She'd been absolutely inconsolable but with one another's help, they figured things out, made it through.

When Charlie pitched the idea of the Happy Hotel, Y/n had been doubtful. They knew a lot about Hell, the way it functioned, the way the demons within were. It came from decades running around back streets and surviving in the underworld of the underworld. It was Charlie's hope that did it, her earnest gaze. Y/n had caved and after months of hard work, the Hotel had finally opened.

Things were going well, too well even. Then there had been the interview with Katie Killjoy, the other shoe dropping. Y/n had watched it from the sidelines with Vaggie. As soon as Charlie had come down off the set, they had enveloped her in their arms and held them close. With Vaggie's help, they managed to get Charlie back to the hotel.

Once she had calmed down a little bit, Charlie stood from where she had been seated in the sitting room beside Y/n, Vaggie, and the hotel's one resident: Angel Dust. She mentioned something about calling her mom before disappearing into the lobby.

Y/n and Vaggie exchanged a look. They both knew the situation Charlie was in with regards to her mother and how she tended to get after one of her failed attempts to contact the woman. Neither thought this was the time or the place to step in however, and remained seated, chatting idly with Angel as they waited for Charlie's return.

When she finally did, it was with a nervous attitude and a strained expression.

"Hey Vaggie?"

"What?" Vaggie asked as she and Y/n twisted to look at Charlie who stood in the door way behind the couch.

"Can you come help me please?"

Vaggie got to her feet and exited the sitting room with her girlfriend. Y/n turned to Angel to continue their conversation but had barley gotten a word to the spider demon out when Vaggie stepped back in the room.

"Y/n?"

"Yeah?" Y/n replied calmly.

"Charlie actually needs our help with this one, I think."

"Alright then." Y/n got to their feet, shooting a glance back at Angel, "A true hotelier's work is never done." they lightly joked and Angel rolled his eyes.

"What's this about?" Y/n asked Vaggie as they followed her down the hall towards the hotel's main entrance.

"Just..." Vaggie sighed, "you'll see."

Noting the girl's odd behavior and stressed demeanor, Y/n steeled themselves. Not much put Vaggie on edge. She was strong, toughened, as far as Y/n knew, by a brutal upbringing in the streets of Hell. While each use of their powers made the curse grow stronger, they would not hesitate to protect Charlie or her dreams should the need arise. Besides, they'd become quite good at other means of self preservation over the years.

As they rounded the corner into the lobby space, Y/n was greeted by a flash of red as someone pushed past Charlie into the space from the street and a familiar voice.

"Excuse my sudden visit, but I saw your fiasco on the picture show and I just couldn't resist. What a performance! Why I haven't been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929. So many orphans."

Y/n let out a low growl, summoning their lute into their hands and Vaggie pointed her spear at the Radio Demon. It was pure instinct. If they knew anyone, they knew Alastor and redemption was not the Radio Demon's cup of tea. As Charlie shut the door, he turned to face them. Y/n walked a few steps forward, planting their feet a little ways away from Alastor and poising their fingers to play.

"Get out of here." They said through gritted teeth.

Alastor's eyes widened with recognition for the smallest moment. As quick as he had lost it, he regained his composure.

"My what a protective force this Hazbin Hotel has." Alastor mused.

"It's called the Happy Hotel actually?" Charlie hesitantly corrected and he laughed.

"Not anymore its not. I did you the favor of fixing your sign."

A little threat couldn't hurt, a little reminder of who he was dealing with. Alastor had no idea Y/n was any less capable than when he'd first met them. One little note couldn't hurt, wouldn't show any of the damage done. Y/n plucked a single string on their instrument and the room around them began to glow. Everyone's hair lifted around their faces, the loose edges of their clothes beginning to flutter.

"Get out of here now. I wont ask you again."

"Now, is that anyway to treat an old friend?" Alastor replied, smirking.

Everything suddenly clicked into place. There was something different about him. Y/n couldn't put their finger on exactly what it was, but they could tell he hadn't been lying. He'd been at the Hotel for at least five minutes by now, maybe more with all Charlie and Vaggie's running back and forth since his arrival. If he had had any truly negative intentions, they would have revealed themselves, especially to Y/n. Alastor was a good liar, but no one was that good, good enough to trick someone who had watched them become the person they are.

"Old friend?" Vaggie repeated, turning to Y/n in confusion.

Their grimace faltered, before falling completely. They released their instrument, letting it hang loosely in their hand by their side.

"Alastor! You're embarrassing me in front of my kid."

"Your kid?" Alastor asked after a moment.

This time the shocked expression that crept its way onto his face stayed there.

"You know him?" Charlie asked at the same moment as Alastor spoke.

Y/n let their instrument dissolve into the air and gestured to Charlie.

"My kid. And yes, Charlie. I know Alastor."

Alastor turned, looking Charlie up and down.

"You got with Lucifer?" Alastor asked in confusion as he looked back at Y/n.

They laughed lightly at the notion, unable to stop themselves. They shook their head.

"No. Oh my gosh, I would never. Seriously just... great guy and all but no thank you. I just take care of his kid for him. Well, used to. We sorta got attached."

Charlie walked up to Y/n as they spoke, pulling them into a side hug.

"Y/n practically raised me. They were kinda the only one who was always there for me."

Y/n looked down at Charlie with a fond smile. They ruffled her hair and Charlie quickly batted their hand away.

It was clear to Alastor that Y/n had changed. They were no longer the trouble making demon he had known, that he had loved. Still, there was that same spark in their eyes, that fervent desire, that want. From just the small interaction playing out before him, he could tell that Y/n had learned how to trust and protect rather than just fight. They had learned to live hand in hand with that creeping need woven so tightly around their bones, rather than despite it.

It made him happy to see, it made him happy for her. At the same time, it caused his heart to ache terribly. They had finally been able to let someone in, and it hadn't been him.

In the years since their separation, Alastor had never stopped thinking about Y/n. Their memory was tender to the touch, shot sparks of joy or anguish down him depending on the day. It was like an old wound that had never quite healed right. Seeing them now was unexpected. The wound reopened. He sheltered himself.

Y/n saw the way Vaggie still had her spear pointed at Alastor, aimed straight at his neck. Gently, they placed a hand on it, pushing it down. Vaggie looked at them, her eyebrows raised.

"If he wanted to hurt anyone here, he would have done so already."

Vaggie stared at Y/n for a moment. Seeing how serious the demon that had become a mentor to her was in this moment, she lowered her blade. Y/n's hand fell back to their side.

"Now," Y/n turned to look at Alastor once again, "why are you here?"

----

It was late. Vaggie had told Y/n that Charlie wanted to speak to them about something in their office and so, Y/n found themselves outside the familiar door. They knocked once on the dark red wood.

"Yeah?"

They opened the door and Charlie smiled.

"What'd you wanna talk to me about, Sunshine?" Y/n asked as they entered the room, taking a seat in the chair across the desk from their young charge.

"Just about Alastor."

They should have known. Not only was the hotel at a potential risk thanks to the decision to allow him to work with them but Charlie had always had a sharp sense of curiosity. Y/n sighed.

"Fire away, kiddo."

"Well, how do you two know one another? Can we trust him? Do you think he means what he says he does? I thought you hated overlords? I.. I..."

Y/n smiled softly, the change in their face easing Charlie's nervous temper.

"We will handle these one at a time, no prying. Deal?"

"Y/n, you realize how suspicious that makes you sound, right?"

"Fine. A little prying. Deal?"

"Deal."

Y/n leaned back in their chair, letting out a sigh of nostalgia. Their hands rested on their stomach as they kicked their feet up onto Charlie's desk.

"I... I met Alastor practically right after he arrived. We both thought the overlord system was dumb and so, we decided to team up."

There was a moment of silence, broken by Charlie. The young demoness had always loved Y/n's stories, begged to hear them. They had never once heard this one before.

"Is that all?"

Y/n shook their head.

"We dated."

"You dated!" Charlie exclaimed in shock, nearly jumping out of her seat, "You dated the Radio Demon. Were you in love?"

Of course she'd go on and ask that next. Not 'how'd that happen?' not 'when was this?' No, Charlie had to go for the hardest question first, like she always did.

"Yes." Y/n hesitantly replied, "I did."

"I... oh my god. This is actually crazy. You dated? You actually dated. Like for real, in love, dated."

"Alright." Y/n clapped their hands, taking their feet off the desk and righting themselves in their chair, "Next question."

"Bu-"

"I said some prying."

"Fine." Charlie sighed, crossing her arms, "But I am gonna get that story out of you eventually."

"I'm sure you will, sunshine." Y/n chuckled lightly, "Now. Can we trust him? I... I'm not sure."

All the excitement vanished from Charlie as she looked seriously over at Y/n.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Because, he's up to something but not with us. Or, if it is with us, it's not to hurt us. I... something happened to him, something is different. I am not sure what I just... he's not here to hurt us... I think..."

"You think?" Charlie repeated indignantly, "Can you be a little more sure of that maybe? Why only think?"

"It's been a long time since I've seen him, Charls. Maybe being an overlord is what changed him. I have no way of knowing but my gut tells me he's okay, at least for now."

"You knew him before he became an overlord?"

"You really think I would team up with one of those bitches? Come on. You know I hate them."

"I-"

"Next question." Y/n quickly interrupted, not wanting to think on the past anymore than was necessary, "I think he does mean what he says, as was implied in whether or not I trusted him but the same caveats that applied there apply here too. And I do hate overlords, I just..."

"You just love him." Charlie teased.

Y/n's cheeks grew hot. They looked away.

"I do not. I loved him. There is a difference."

"Uh-huh. Sure. Why did you guys break up?"

Y/n turned back to Charlie. They couldn't say no to those eyes.

"Well, he became an overlord. Also I maybe... never told him. About the curse. He could tell something was up and..." Y/n took a breath, "couldn't take it after a while I guess."

"So you guys still loved each other when you broke up."

"What are you scheming over there."

"Nothing! Nothing!" Charlie quickly replied as she not so discreetly scribbled something on a piece of paper, "How long were you together?"

Y/n placed their hands on the arms of the chair, pulling themselves to their feet.

"Alright, trouble maker, I think thats enough lore outta me tonight."

"But Y/n!"

"I'm gonna go to bed. Vaggie already headed upstairs for the night I think. Sweet dreams, princess."

"Good night Y/n." Charlie dejectedly replied as she realized she really wasn't going to be getting anything else out of her mentor that night.

"Good night."

Y/n was about half way through the Hotel back to their room when they felt a hand on their shoulder. Reacting purely out of instinct, they ducked out from under the person's grip, spinning around with their fists raised. Alastor smiled down at Y/n and they sighed.

"What is it?" they asked, straightening up.

He had expected Y/n to be angry, to have that familiar sharp edge behind their voice. Instead, they looked up at him. As if everything was normal, as if it hadn't been thirty years since they'd last seen one another, as if they had just been together yesterday, their eyes met his.

"I... it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too." they replied after a moment's thought, "What are you doing up this late?"

"You know me, sleep is not my preferred way to pass time."

"I meant what are you doing in the hall, but sure. Yeah, I know you."

"That darling Charlie asked to see me."

Y/n scoffed, shaking their head with a tired smile.

"Of course she'd... yeah."

They stood in the hall facing one another. Just a few feet apart. The silence was thick.

"You seem happy."

"I am." Y/n nodded, "Charlie is a great kid. I was pissed when Lucifer first asked me to look after her, I'll admit it but, she has grown on me."

"I didn't know you were acquainted with the big man. I thought you despised all authority figures."

Y/n looked critically at Alastor, over his whole being. He felt they were looking into his very soul, the heart of all his intentions and desires. He felt absolutely naked in the worst way under their gaze.

"No, just overlords. Especially ones who make deals for the souls of others. It's a stupid and outdated system. Even the best of them like Rosie abuse their power to get what they want."

It was a well sharpened arrow, the remark. Perfectly aimed. Alastor had, after all, introduced the small group inhabiting the hotel to Husk and Nifty just that afternoon. Y/n turned their back to Alastor.

"She has big dreams and the passion to see them through. I believe in her. Don't... don't fuck this up for her, Alastor."

----

Next Part -> Rapture

@moonmark98 @luzzbuzz @snowlotr @randomuser-89 @fakeguysarehot @xdolls-crownx

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perceptivehands · 4 months

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|| Miss Scarlet and The Duke » 4.04 "The Diamond Feather" ||

#miss scarlet and the duke #eliza scarlet #william wellington #period drama #kate phillips #stuart martin #spoilers #i need someone to write a multi chap on what exactly went down in those two weeks #the domesticity is just too delicious #~#(you want to tell me the man managed to dress himself? or that ivy helped him? hell nah)

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chrollohearttags · 2 months

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𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖇: 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖛𝖊

synopsis: many moves are being made for the talent of AMG and two fourths of the Dead Boys Society collective, Ony The God and Prince Cee, find themselves thrust even further into the spotlight after their freestyle goes viral. But their musical skills aren’t the only thing that has people talking. As it’s during this interview that the duo find themselves in an exchange of heated words with an infamous DJ..who names drop their fellow group member and brother, EJ the Don in reference to recent scandals. Will the pair clear up the rumors circulating the net or will they leave it all in his hands to set the record straight? Meanwhile, (Y/N) meets up with Mikasa prior to PalmFest to discuss another opportunity she has lined up for her. It’s here that the manager informs her that she’ll be receiving the opportunity of a lifetime to work with a brand she’s loved since childhood. But that isn’t the only thing she has to divulge to the upcoming influencer. What is Mika hiding from her client? Ahead of the festival, Jean and his infamous band prepare to make their much anticipated return to the stage but before this, he teams up with the girls of the Pole Assassins for what is set to be the collab of the century and to solicit some friendly advice to the headstrong leader. But he isn’t the only one with a grand plan up his sleeve and it seems that everyone will be pulling out the stops to give Miami and the world a night worth remembering. Who’ll take the stage and who’ll steal the show?

word count: 8.2K

content + themes: mentions of drugs, humor, light angst, mentions of fighting, minor smut/sexual themes (jeankasa crumbs), alcohol use, multiple character cameos, language

“This gon’ be our year, believe that..we made it this far and we ain’t gon’ stop.”

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿

Summertime. One of the liveliest and busiest times of the year for many. Most were preparing for vacation, on break from school or just enjoying the various happenings around their area..but for those that were employed and contracted under AMG, this was far from a time of leisure. With the recent announcement of the much anticipated PalmFest, it had caused a dramatic shift in the company. Not only that, word of the festival had begun to make waves around social media. Fans were sharing the banner and their enthusiasm for the lineup. Many were scrambling, tweeting about how they were needing to come up with quick cash to attend for the weekend. Tickets were set to go on sale in the next few days, so naturally, the sales and advertising team would be exceptionally busy. But they wouldn’t be the only ones busy preparing for the influx of attention that was set to be coming their way.

“Okay, okay..so everybody is talking, going crazy over the internet about this new song and lemme tell y’all..it’s worth every bit of the hype. It’s definitely a hit..song of the summer for sure. I’m rocking wit’ it, so many other people are too..but we all gotta know, how did it come about? What’s the story behind Nike Tech?” two men sat adjacent to a woman with a lighter complexion..all three with microphones pursed to their lips as they were perched and bolted to the table in front of them. Both with shaved heads, marked with dyed designs..chains dangling from their necks and grills lining the insides of their mouths when they flashed those perfect smiles. Prince Cee and Ony The God, two halves of the Dead Boys Society collective. Their styles could be best described as hypercharged trap and upbeat melodies that would hype up even the deadest of crowds. Make no mistake, the men did create more emotional pieces, detailing their rough upbringings in the heart of inner city Miami and the Dominican Republic. But they much rather preferred music that made people feel good! Too often had they seen the reality of what the streets could do to them so now that they had made it to the opposite side of the tracks..naturally, they wanted to pay homage to those they lost but they wanted people to smile more than anything. To dance and most importantly, fine women to shake their asses to it!

“Well, you know we was just messin’ ‘round one night, having fun and it came to us.

Ony, or Onyakapon was born to a Haitian father and an African American mother, who was born in Nigeria and raised in Opa Locka. He was always described as bright, intelligent and sweet with a kind heart. A star athlete to his core. He loved basketball and singing. He was brought up in the church, where he learned to fine tune that beautiful voice but quickly found the streets unwillingly. He saw gun violence..drugs and weapons being stuffed under the counters by his uncles and father. It was rough but he still persisted. He played basketball, was on the swim team and played football, all while maintaining a four point two grade point average. He was a star on the field and court, no doubt. But where did he truly shine? Behind a microphone. He and Connie attended the same high school, where they eventually went on to meet EJ..who had just enrolled to finish his junior and senior years. The three would play sports, write music and dream about the future. Regardless of their differences, all three boys had the same goal: change the world with music! A manifestation turned into reality only five years later. From sitting in the lunchroom, making beats on the table to opening for Denzel Curry and Raider Clan. The boys found their fame through Soundcloud a couple years after Eren’s viral video..

filmed at the same shoe store they all worked at..years later and they were all at the height of their game. Now, the guys were preparing for their very first global tour after finishing up their second country wide one. It was a dream come true. But with every whimsical dream follows harsh realities and lately, it had begun to rear its ugly head in the form of a rumor mill surrounding their fellow group mate, EJ himself. There was so much speculation swirling around that the seasoned rapper was dealing with everything from substance abuse to potentially announcing retirement. Granted, they were all baseless and quite frankly, dumb as fuck. However, it didn’t stop interviewers and fans alike from probing the question. And when they couldn’t get the answer straight from the source, they’d have to do the next best thing..

“Yeah, we was just looking to make sum’ that everybody could enjoy.” Chiming in shortly after was Connie Springer, or known by his stage moniker as Prince Cee. The Dominican Republic born, Dade County raised rapper who got his start initially by making songs with his older and younger brothers but ultimately, the two of them decided to give up their supposed pipe dreams for careers in the family restaurant business. As the proud middle child of two immigrant parents, who worked extremely hard to not only provide for their three sons but to essentially live the American dream. It was this same determination and hard work ethic that heavily inspired Connie’s pursuit of his passion. All throughout middle and high school, he would spend hours on end penning lyrics about the various experiences that he had growing up. From migration to witnessing drug deals right in front of him..serving as a journal of sorts. What began as free therapeutic relief soon turned into the catalyst for the inception of Prince Cee. He and Ony had long met as youth football players with the Pop Warner program. But their friendship only grew stronger over time, especially when they discovered that the two of them shared a very strong interest in becoming musicians. By their junior year, the pair had written five songs between the two of them and even recorded one track once EJ joined the fray. After that, the rest was history..needless to say, all of their success were because of one another. Without each other’s support, there was no telling where they would have wound up. But it seemed as if not everyone was in support of this feel good story. In the midst of Eren’s recent arrests, there had not only been speculation of a possible retirement but issues among the group. Many online believed that Connie and Ony would be parting ways with their fellow group mate because of the stigma and that essentially, they had grown tired of ‘living in his shadow’. However, they were here to clear the air once and for all!

“Alright, so while we’re here, gentlemen. You know we gotta talk about it..your homeboy, EJ..he’s been a bit of a hot topic lately. For reasons we not gon’ talk about but we did wanna address some other things and get your opinion on it.”

sat slightly slouched in their seats with their hands propping up their chins..the two gentlemen glared intently at the interviewer. They had a gut feeling that this question would arise at some point during this but they were not in the mood for it, if they were being frank. First and foremost, what happened to their brother was not only frustrating for him but no one’s business and his own to sort through. Certainly not on a platform like this. Hell, they might as well have been cackling with The ShadeRoom themselves! “Nah man, we told y’all before we even came up in here that we wasn’t answering no questions like that.” “Yeah, that ain’t even our situation to speak on, for real..” the gentlemen would suck their teeth before dismissing her preemptive questioning with the wave of a hand. However, it seemed that others were keen on pushing the issue!

“I mean, we just wanna set the record straight..your boy been in the game for some time now. One of the greatest of all time, but lately, he’s had some trouble. Not gon’ lie..so do y’all think that’s a good look for y’all too? Will y’all ever get tired of playing second best to EJ?”

suddenly, the whole studio was met with silence outside of the faint crackle of the microphones and a nearby producer gasping before she even knew it. They were almost certain that viewers would hear and a clip would be making its rounds on the internet by lunch time. Fans of the collective would be ripping the controversial DJ to shreds on social media. However, before any would-be fangirls or blogs could join the fray, the two gentlemen would eat him alive themselves! Ony, who was always more docile and collected in nature..the quietest in the group by far, had honestly had quite enough of this antagonistic and downright, stupid ass interview! Connie, who was all but gripping the arms of his leather chair, ready to fly off the handle was instead, halted by his friend with a palm to his chest.

“Nah, cause what the fu—“

“Hol’ on, bro..I got it.”

not a man of many words outside of his incredible music and select interviews, Ony had implored Eren’s approach early on and because of it, fans adored him that much more. Women fawned all over the very handsome, sexy, charismatic rapper with beautiful dark skin and his signature gold slugs wrapped around his teeth. It was also because of this, that he, much like EJ..was not to be fucked with! If they knew what was good for them, they’d call this session quits now. Grasping the microphone, Ony would flash a smirk, almost huffing and laughing to himself because he knew the words about to leave his mouth were not kind ones and he had been known to have quite the silver tongue. He didn’t mince words and he damn sure didn’t spare feelings, especially when it comes to those he cared about. Everybody could die behind his family..

“Lemme ask you sum’…out of all the years my boy been doing this, just like you said..how many times has he been invited on your show? Hmm? How many times have you reached out for an interview or asked him to come perform for y’all?” The question seemed to invoke both confusion and uncomfortability in the man. A dumbfounded expression on his face..akin to that of a scorned and scolded child. “Up until now, how many times has Dead Boys been on this radio station? Yall ain’t never played our shit, ain’t never invited us on and when you do, it’s for sum’ bullshit. See, this is why ion’ do these lil’ podcasts and shit, y’all talk more than bitches do. Y’all knew what it was before we even came up in here and y’all still gon’ play in our face. All this you see, we did without a deal, we did it without a label, we ain’t had to check in with no nigga in our city to get put on. We ain’t got to run up in everybody else's hood to make it. We ain’t these lil’ 360 ass niggas, we own all ours and that man EJ? Ain’t got nothing but love and all the respect in the world for him because he’s cut from the same cloth. We did this together, that’s our family..this music shit, it means everything to us and if y’all can’t respect him, then y’all don’t respect us and that means we done here..”

Without missing so much as a beat, Ony removed his headset and Connie followed..despite the pleas from the interviewers. But before the gentlemen could exit for good, Connie left them with one more statement that would solidify their stance on the matter. “And since ya’ll watching, just wait until that next album drops. We’ll see who the real great is. All them rumors and shit? Gon’ be put to rest. Let’s go.” And with that, the two of them turned on their heels without so much as even glancing back at the radio hosts. It may not have been their situation, but they handled it on his behalf and for anyone who may have been doubting them, EJ or their collective in general, were about to be in for a rude awakening. They had come too far to allow negative opinions and messy ‘journalists’ to diminish their shine. By the time this hit the internet, their words would be undoubtedly misconstrued but they were not about to let this stop them. If anything, it ignited the dormant spark lying underneath them to go harder. To prove people like that wrong and to show everybody what they were truly made of. Determined..now more than ever to step their game up. This time, it was personal!

“This gon’ be our year, believe that..we made it this far and we ain’t gon’ stop. Me, Connie, EJ, Armin..all of us. We ‘bout to put this industry on its head.”

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meanwhile, the boys weren’t the only ones preparing to make moves..whilst EJ and the rest of his collective were suiting up for PalmFest, album rollouts and such, (y/n) was about to receive some rather unexpected and great news yourself. Unbeknownst in your absence and amid your sabbatical, your manager had been working diligently to secure you a once in a lifetime deal..one that could potentially change the trajectory of your career in an instant.

“I’m sure you’re dying to know what it’s inside…go on, open it.”

currently, you were seated across from her at an outdoor table, overlooking the picturesque Miami waters. The Lapis Lounge was the place to be for anyone who was anyone in this town. Crisp white, designer linen draped marble tables with intricately arranged flowers placed in the center. Wine glasses filled with Pellegrino, shimmered underneath the sunlight; sliced lemons decorating the rim and square China plates sat before the both of you with aesthetically plated dishes that cost more than anything you’d ever dined on willingly. It never not dawned on you how surreal your life was each time you found yourself in these scenarios. Even now, as you chatted with her, intermittently shoving a spoon of panna cotta in your mouth, you couldn’t help but to dwell on the fact that this amount of money could’ve gotten you at least three fish plates and a good tray of oxtails on your side of town! Nonetheless, you’d tremble with anticipation..hands scaling the medium sized, gift wrapped box sat before you. A present, courtesy of Mikasa, who had been brandishing it when you arrived. It was pink with holographic foiling with a tag and bow on top that read: “To (y/n) (l/n). We hope you enjoy it.” You were honestly dumbfounded as to what it could be. But anticipation would not have to kill you any longer as you began to unravel the bow and open up the gift. Your expression would immediately change once you figured out what was beneath all that wrapping paper. Switching from a gaze of utter confusion to a wide gasp complete with a smile.

“Oh my God!—no way…” you were completely taken aback and could, at that very moment..burst into tears but you restrained yourself. Trying to construct and form a thought before speaking. “M-miss..Miss Ackerman, what is this?” “Exactly as it says..congratulations, sweetheart. You’re the new cover girl for Moschino. They sent that to my office this morning and said that they’d love for you to star in their next perfume ad.” You were in utter shock and disbelief. Beyond words even..for anyone that knew you, the (y/n) before the fame..you were quite the dresser. Prior to even coming up on money, you never disappointed when it came to your outfits, hair or makeup. Sporting the most eclectic and well coordinated pieces that could never work for anyone else but you. Outdressing the girls in school who needed brand names to compete but you’d outshine their fly every single time on a budget at a fraction of the price..shopping at the stores they’d deem ‘ghetto’ or lesser, styling your own hair and makeup with nothing but products from the beauty supply down the road from your house and coming to class with all eyes directed at you. Needless to say, you had never really had any use for designer duds. But if there was one fancy label that had piqued your interest, it was Moschino. Everything about it just made you fawn..from its avant- garde pieces, vibrant designs to unique aesthetics, you became obsessed. Although you were no bougie fashion snob, you often dreamed of getting to rock at least one of their pieces. Whether it be a handbag or a thrifted coat, you’d always wanted at least one. And now, years later..your manifestation has become reality! Excited wasn’t even the correct word..feigning back tears, you’d cackle and begin scouring the large PR package they had gifted you. Including their new Moschino Toy 2 Collection, along with their spring 2024 collection.

“And that’s not even the best part. Both Fenty brands actually reached out to me this morning as well with a proposal to feature you in their newest catalogs. I have the contracts for all three offers right here whenever you’re ready. If you agree, you can sign and you’ll officially be on the affiliate payroll..what do you think?”

you were at an utter loss for words. How could you even describe what it was that you were feeling? Honestly, every bit of it felt surreal. There was no way that you, of all people, were about to grace the ad pages for Moschino, Fenty Beauty and Savage x Fenty all in the same month. Not to mention being in two acts for the upcoming PalmFest. Getting to model and truly tap into your creative expression with photoshoots of your own making. The conceptual art, the budget of your choosing..it was a dream come true! Leaning back against your seat, you’d release a faint gasp, slowly shaking your head in utter disbelief as you attempted to feign back tears. It seemed as if you were just overcome with emotion as of late. Not so much from any hardships but the exact opposite. Oftentimes had you prayed for days like this and everything you’d ever hoped for was finally coming into fruition. It was almost as if your star had completely ascended overnight and it wasn’t lost on you that it happened shortly after signing onto Mikasa’s roster. And of course, after meeting Eren. Naturally, you’d never attribute your success to a man unless it was the one upstairs. However, you were grateful that she had thrown you two together that night!

“I..I honestly don’t know what to say. Thank you so much, Ms. Mika. I’m honored and I promise I will do the best I can to make you proud.” hoisting your glass to make a toast; met with soft giggles and a raised champagne flute in return. “Please, you’ve far exceeded that expectation. Just keep doing what you do best, stay genuine and I’ll make certain that you go far in this business.” Just as poised as ever, sipping from her champagne flute when stating so. However, that serene look in her eyes soon dissipated when you brought up the next topic of discussion. One that you had no idea was such a sore subject for your manager. “It’s crazy what a couple months can do. I mean, I was just backstage with EJ, getting a pep talk about how to navigate the crowd. ‘Swear..wouldn’t have known what to do if it wasn’t for him. He’s so much nicer than what everyone said too but I’m sure you already knew–” before you had the opportunity to complete your long winded tangent, singing the rapper’s praises, Mikasa would ingest a big gulp before clearing her throat. It took a moment for you to notice the shift in her mood and her facial expressions but you immediately became concerned. “Is everything okay?” “Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just got strangled, is all..” Prompting you to focus your attention on her wellbeing rather than your newest fling and her sworn enemy on the moment. Truth be told, she hadn’t exactly confronted her issues with Eren head on. Ever since that day in his studio, she had felt nothing but pure rage in her heart whenever the thought even so much as crossed her mind. Honestly, she had nothing to say to him or about him but she’d be lying if she said that the prospect of both their professional and business relationship being annulled..wouldn’t sting. Years of friendship, hard work, determination, advocating for one another and fighting their way to the top of the industry as a power duo, all down the drain over a stupid fight. She couldn’t blame Eren for his reaction but it didn’t make his words sting any less. Make no mistake, she still believed in him and his ability to make a comeback but it was going to take some time before she was able to see him as a manager or friend..

“You seem to really like Eren..” the comment sends a pang to the very pit of your stomach, making you quickly try to recant your earlier statements and downplay the oversharing of feelings for the seasoned rapper. However, that glimmer in your eye and visible reaction in body language was a dead giveaway. You could no longer fake your feelings for EJ the Don and if anyone saw through the facade, it was her.

“Well, ya know..he’s cool. He just helped me–

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You don’t have to mince words with me. Trust me, that boy’s got your head so far in the clouds, I think you may float away.” It was official, she had you pegged just as well as your best friends. It was blatantly obvious that the two of you had something serious going on..whether you wanted to admit that fact to yourselves or not. Lowering your head, (Y/N) released a soft chuckle in half relief and half embarrassment. You were acting like an airheaded schoolgirl over a man you barely even knew and everyone around you had obviously peeped.

“Listen, (y/n)..I’ll be honest with you. Eren and I? We’re not exactly on good terms at the moment. Hell, even bringing up his name leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I’ll spare you the gritty details but..as it stands, he’s no longer my client and certainly not my friend. I’m only telling you this because I don’t want you to be alarmed or in the dark about any awkward tension..in the event we all happen to end up in the same circle. PalmFest is right around the corner and truthfully..I don’t know if I have it in my heart to forgive him. I don’t know if he can forgive me either..” The declaration was made through restrained tears and obvious hurt. You’d never seen your manager break her stoic and calm demeanor once since you’ve known her but now? She was completely different. More vulnerable and certainly more emotional than she’d ever gotten but she had to keep her cool. Put on that brave facade and try not to let it get to her. Also, she could see the visible shock on your face and how saddened you looked by the revelation. You hated confrontation and the idea of your potential beau and your manager being at odds was not good. You could tell they were very close and although it was certainly none of your business, you hoped they reached a resolution soon.

“I’m also telling you this because I don’t think that my or anyone else’s opinion should stand in the way of you two being happy. Regardless of how I feel about him right now..Eren was one of the very few people in my life that kept me grounded when I needed it most. He’s never really gotten excited about anything outside of music or work..but I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt, I’ve never seen that man smile as much as I have since you showed up.”

This revelation was certainly news to you! Even though you didn’t want to read much into it or get carried away, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t one hell of a confidence boost! The cold hearted ice king, EJ the Don himself..gushing over the likes of you? You were shocked! But he obviously had a thing for you. Whether that was just lust or perhaps something more..was yet to be determined. In the meantime, your manager had one last tidbit of friendly advice for you. As woman to woman.

“I don’t know what it is about you but you obviously make him very happy and I can tell that he’s done the same for you. That’s important in this business…hold on to that. I don’t know two people who are more deserving.” In that moment, behind the strict expressions and no nonsense persona, Mikasa seemed to falter just a bit in that moment. Softening right before your eyes..it was very clear that she meant every single word that left her mouth. She wanted to see Eren happy even if she had to do so from the sidelines as someone who was no longer a part of his life. And you? She had never seen someone so kind, energetic and sweet before. She’d heard first hand from Niesha how much a workaholic you were and despite you just getting started, you deserved at least a bit of a reward. Hoisting your glass once more, you’d flash her a bright beaming smile, even giggling a bit to feign off crying because it took nothing for you to become emotional..especially when sentimental statements like that were involved.

“Thank you Miss Mika..I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. Just promise me you’ll stay focused and keep your eyes on the prize. You’ve worked so hard. Don’t let anyone get in the way of that.”

“You have my word..”

With that, the two of you clinked your champagne flutes together and took obligatory swigs of the bubbly concoction inside. Rinsing away the intensity of the previous conversation. Now it was back to more pertinent matters!

“That’s my girl..now, back to this photoshoot. Let’s talk about the details because I have a few ideas that I think you’ll just absolutely adore..”

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page break and time skip: two days later

Hard Rock Stadium: Stage A, Miami Beach

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With the long anticipated PalmFest approaching a lot sooner rather than later, it seemed that everyone as a collective was working diligently to ensure that it would be nothing short of a stellar success. Stage crews worked overtime as they secured support beams for the stages..testing the lightning a million times over and getting everyone’s pyrotechnics in order for those who needed them. Running simulations of backdrops for each performer to make sure no one suffered from a glitch when the time finally came. Some of the biggest names in the industry would be setting foot on that very stage come three days from now. The entire weekend was one that would undoubtedly be for the books; for musical talents and attendees alike. Meanwhile, the executives had come out of their glass paned offices to observe the scene for themselves. Among the fray was none other than Erwin Smith, who had been working directly with everyone to relay orders and needs as well. He was the one heading this project so it was only natural for him to come show his face. Besides, with his reliant leadership style, everyone could rest assured that if any last minute changes or major pieces needed to be handled, he was the man to do so. At that very moment, he was seated in the front row as the lights dimmed on the overhead structure. Below them was quite possibly not only one of, but two of the festival’s most anticipated acts..Atelier Kiss and Pole Assassins! An unlikely yet dynamic pairing. The two groups had come together one time prior when the band was on their last tour. The dancing quintet had just gotten their start when lead man, Jean Kirschtein himself asked for the ladies to join them for their hometown reunion. Rivaling the sounds of Deftones and Avenged Sevenfold, the infamous group put a unique spin on rock music and changed the genre as everyone knew it. Jean, a native of Louisiana..had always harbored an affinity for blues, jazz, country and soul music. But to his core, he was a metal head. Growing up on the sounds of Metallica, Black Sabbath and Def Leppard, he wanted to combine all sides of the musical spectrum. He didn’t want to limit himself or his bandmates to one particular style. He fought to break stereotypes and bring an innovative style of rock and roll to the scene. He also had the privilege of receiving the tutelage of Vivian James and needless to say, he absorbed plenty from the Neo Soul Siren herself. His ultimate creation was, in his own words.. ‘The result of Kiss, Tina Turner and Waylon Jennings having an illegitimate love child.’ An interesting combination to put it lightly! But that insane mix worked for Atelier Kiss and years later, they’re regarded as one of the highest selling bands of the 21st century..no small feat by any stretch of the imagination. That deep, silky yet soulful vibrato of his could be recognized from earshot anywhere and Erwin had just gotten an exclusive concert just for his listening pleasure only as the groups had just wrapped up practice for their upcoming set.

“You guys..pardon my language..but that was fucking amazing.” The brash comment sending everyone on the stage into light hearted hysterics, even laughing. It was rare to even see the director ever crack a smile or break character but for anyone who was familiar with the former lead guitarist of Atelier Kiss’ predecessor, Maria’s Way..led by none other than the president and director themselves..they’d know that this was far tame for Mr. Smith. To him, he felt right at home watching the beautiful ladies twirl the pole as the rockstar crooned sultry and lewd lyrics into the mic. He had done the exact same many years prior..needless to say, he was proud of you all! Seeing as how they’d be opening the show, you guys had to make one hell of a first impression or the entire show would fall to shit. But that wasn’t even a possibility. The leaders of both groups were not only hard workers, but overachievers as well. Both Jean and (Y/N) had something serious to prove.

“Seriously, I’ve never seen anything like this and I cannot wait for you all to perform. Well done. Especially you ladies..being able to construct a routine of this caliber on such short notice? I’m blown away.” A statement that rang true..as it was only after your meeting with Mikasa two days ago, did he call you up and ask about performing with Atelier Kiss. Naturally, you accepted with bells on! Nevermind the fact that you’d also be on stage with a segment of your own, hosting a little contest alongside Prince Cee and Armin to see which lucky audience member could not only sway them but outdance you girls for their chance to win one thousand dollars cash right there. You’d be pulling double duty and exhausting yourselves in the process but all the more exposure, the better. And you were certain that your girls were up to the task!

“Ya’ hear that, girls? Sounds like we got the boss man’s stamp of approval. I’d say we’re good to call it a night.” Something that you all could get behind and appreciate, seeing as how darkness had already set fall over the sky. As excited as you all were, rest was going to be crucial in making a great performance happen. Slowly but surely, the stage hands and band members alike all helped you down from your poles and to your feet. All of them would thank your group and the sentiments were mirrored. But before you all could depart for home, Jean was hoping for an audience with you.

“Aye..(Y/N). Do you mind if we talk for a minute?

It was certainly an odd request..you’d consider yourself rather good friends with the lead singer but it wasn’t often that you had the chance to speak in private and quite honestly, there was no need! But by the indication of his tone, you could tell it may have been serious.

“Of course!” you’d wave to your girls and alert them that you’d catch up with them shortly. Meanwhile, you and Jean would venture off to the side of the stage to converse. He’d grasp your hand and help you down to the edge before handing you a water bottle. He was always just as chivalrous as he was kind..admirable qualities in a man and a friend in general. Graciously accepting, you’d thank him for the kind gestures before inquiring about his request.

“So what did you wanna talk about? Something wrong with the routine?” peering down at the ground, he’d be quick to dismiss that notion. This matter was a bit more personal and he truthfully couldn’t be sure of how you’d take it. “Nah, nothing like that..before I start running my mouth though. Are you and EJ..seeing each other?” Instantaneously, the question both caught you off guard and invoked a very physical reaction in you. You were so confused as to why he’d spring such a question up on you. It wasn’t as if either of you had made this little situationship you were involved in blatantly obvious but anyone with two functioning eyes could see that there was something going on between the two of you. Make no mistake, it wasn’t any more of his business as it was some random blog on the internet but you also didn’t strike Jean as the nosy type. He didn’t meddle in others’ affairs unless it pertained to his own and now that you were thinking about it, you could see why he harbored a vested interest of sorts…

“I mean..we talk from time to time. Nothing too serious..” but alas, he had his answer the moment you clutched that bottle as if you were trying to squeeze the life out of it and the way your eyes lit up at the sheer mention of his name. “Ahh, you don’t have to play coy with me. We’re friends..besides, it’s none of my business. But there was something I wanted to bring to your attention..” swallowing another gulp of his beverage, Jean would cease his light chuckle and return to a far more serious gaze than before. One that worried you a bit..what exactly was on his mind and how did it involve you? Granted, his fiancee had made him privy to their little spat a couple weeks back and how they were no longer on speaking terms. But it was just as Mikasa had said, their quarrel was in no way a reflection of how you should proceed with talking to him! Even so, you couldn’t help but to be intrigued by the blonde’s words. You’d rather someone tell you than to be in the dark about something important later on down the line.

“..I won’t sit here and pretend that he and I are best friends or anything. Never have been..hell, we’ve been at each other's throats since I’ve known him. Point is, I just want you to be careful. I know it’s not my place or anything..but I saw you guys together on the boat a couple weeks ago. And even though I can say for certainty that he’s not some womanizing sleazebag..dude’s selfish as hell. I mean, he never answers his phone, not even in emergencies. He doesn’t show up for meetings even when other people’s jobs are on the line..he’s just the worst!” By Jean’s frustrated rant, you can tell that Eren had done a thing or two to crawl underneath his skin. Even so, you couldn’t help but to laugh! Just as you had explained to your girls, you’d tell him, Mikasa and everyone else the exact same:

“ I appreciate the concern, Jean. But he and I are just friends, that’s all…no need to worry. I promise.”

You honestly found the sentiment sweet. That everyone was concerned about you and your wellbeing. Jean himself was overly cautious about the people in his life and rightfully so. This industry was a beast and a half and it would devour you whole if you allowed it. The last thing anyone wanted was for you to get hurt by somebody you seemingly held in high regard. Scoffing, the blonde would shake his head once more and cackle. He didn’t want you becoming angry with him over insinuations or baseless accusations. Truth be told, you and Eren didn’t know much about one another outside of the physical aspect but as it stood since your last hookup, he was hoping to change that. He was making a valiant and active effort to be more than just friends with benefits. That much was apparent by his consistent communication and the few flower arrangements he had sent to your apartment; a sweet little surprise after a long day of practice and work. You were appreciative of everyone’s concern but this was one matter you’d have to see to the end for yourself. Whether it played out in your favor or not.

“I figured you’d say as much. In all seriousness, you’ve become like family here at AMG. All of you have and we look out for one another. Everyone has seen how hard you work and we’d just hate for that to become jeopardized in any way. You just make sure that dummy doesn’t do anything to hurt you. If he does, you know who to call.” his offer sending you into a fit of giggles once more. But you had no doubt that you were in good hands. For the time being, you’d just play it cool and roll with the punches. “You know I appreciate you, boo. Thank you for looking out for me.” Swinging your arm around, you’d coil Jean’s neck and embrace him in a tight hug. You were extremely grateful for the people in your life right now and you knew that things were only about to become even better. Your angels were definitely looking out for you. The two of you would begin to stand up, reaching his hand out to assist you once more. It was amid your banter about the upcoming show that your phone began to ring and you’d prepare to part ways.

“...Hey, make sure to get some rest..all of you! You’re sure as hell gonna need it.”

“Aye, you ain’t gotta tell me twice! I’m headed home straight after this. And tell that pretty lady of yours I said hey!..”

But upon exchanging those pleasantries and goodbyes, your spoken plans were sure to become derailed and by the aforementioned topic nonetheless..you’d peer down at your phone screen to be suddenly greeted with none other than the contact name ‘EJ’. You didn’t want to seem extremely desperate for his attention or anything but you had been itching to hear from him. As it had been a day or two since your last phone call. He’d text you every morning and maintain consistent contact throughout the day..which you could appreciate because Jean was right about one thing: EJ moved on his time and his alone so he didn’t owe you a single thing and as he had revealed to you, he was in the process of cultivating his new album so you imagined that the Facetimes and texts would become scarce as the deadline drew near. As well as the fast approaching PalmFest. However, there was another reason he was reaching out. After the second or third ring, you’d swipe the arrow left and answer him.

“Hey EJ..”

“Hey gorgeous..how are you?”

The name sends immediate pangs to the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t help but to amass butterflies when you so much as heard his name so naturally, the sweet gestures made it even worse.

“I’m doing well, thanks..and I hope you are too.”

“I’m having a wonderful day now that I’ve gotten the chance to hear from you.”

“You know, you really do know how to make a girl feel special.”

“What can I say? A smart man recognizes a good thing when he sees it..I’d be crazy to mess that up, now wouldn’t I?”

Only a minute into your conversation, (Y/N) found yourself fawning over his buttery smooth words and that silky voice. Regardless, there was a reason he was calling you so late in the day and you had to know why.

“Listen, I don’t wanna take up too much of your time or anything and forgive me if I’m interruptin’ or anything. I saw your Instagram, I know you’ve been out here working hard..you know I never wanna take you away from your money..but if it was possible, I was hoping I could see you tonight. Maybe we could get together and finally have that date we were talking about..” Befuddled in your tracks, you had to take a moment to respond. Maybe it was the bare minimum and you weren’t exactly used to being courted in such a manner, but you appreciated his words. He valued your time just the same as his own..he didn’t see your profession as something lesser and certainly didn’t think you the type to be sitting around, awaiting his call. Because of this, you were thrilled to see him again and to finally have that quality time you both desired. Granted, the sex was downright impeccable between the two of you but it was obvious that you each were craving far more than physical intimacy..at the moment, it was only five thirty so you’d have ample enough time to make it back home and get yourself together. After all, it was your first official date and you wanted to be dressed accordingly! And with this festival and other projects looming over your heads, this was the perfect time to sneak in some personal breathing room..so without a moment more of hesitation..

“..I’d love that, thank you, Eren. I’m just now leaving practice but give me a couple hours and you can slide through.”

“Of course, beautiful. I’m so sorry it’s on such short notice but I’m glad you agreed to see me..I missed you.” Something about him was starkly different from the man you saw in interviews or on stage but it was so nice to be around someone so kind. He made you truly feel safe and that you’d made the right decision..

“I missed you too..I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Bye.”

“Bye..”

You just hoped that for your sake..you didn’t meet the side that Jean was seeming to warn you about. In the meantime, you had to make sure you were looking right!..

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three hours later..

On the opposite side of town, you and Eren weren’t the only two lovebirds indulging in the woes of being an item.

“You know, if you keep touching me like that, I’ll never get any work done..”

“That’s the entire point, my love. C’mon, it’s late..you deserve a break.”

at the future Kirschtein residence, Jean was attempting to woo his bride to get some much needed alone time. The couple had both been working nonstop during this time for the upcoming performance, their individual careers and of course, the wedding that was said to be ‘one for the books’. As excited as they were for all the new things happening in their life, rest was equally as important and as it stood, it was definitely a rarity. But it wasn’t the only thing that had been lacking..

“You just want some ass, admit it.”

“Okay, I just want some ass. There, I said it.”

the blonde was currently stationed behind his fiancée, who was still typing away at her computer and delegating orders via email at this time of night. For Mikasa, the grind truly never subsided. She would work in her sleep if it were feasible but there was nothing wrong with enjoying yourself every once in a while. Something Jean was hoping to accomplish tonight..in more ways than one. Despite her always stoic attitude, she couldn’t help but to fold and cackle at his advances. He was brutally honest to a fault and she appreciated that. Currently, he was feeling up her sides…marking up her neck with a trail of kisses and whispering all the things she wanted to hear. Even she couldn’t resist the charms and temptation of a man like him. It was that very behavior that had bagged her in the first place!..

“Alright, sir! Cut it out..I swear, you’re such a freak. The last time we tried that, you said you couldn’t breathe.”

“Yeah, but I would’ve died the happiest man ever..”

his southern twang peeking through the conversation as he reminisced on their most recent and salacious rendezvous. Nonetheless, he just wanted quality time with his lady. “Fine, give me two more minutes and I’ll be right there.” That was as good of a concession as he was going to get so Jean took the bait and accepted. “Two minutes, woman! Two minutes..” signaling the number with his fingers as he walked out..but even so, she couldn’t help but to chime in with a joke as he departed to the bedroom.

“If that’s how long you’re gonna last, I might as well stay right here—“ “Oh, shut up! Damn brat..”

cackling as he exited the room, Mikasa covered her mouth to attempt to feign her laughter. It was little moments like this that she enjoyed the most out of every aspect of her life. “Love you, babe!” But it was just as she was preparing to call it quits for the night, would she be met with quite the surprise. The inbox and screen were all but empty until a push notification appeared in the corner along with a burner email and a blank subject line. At first, it struck her as odd but suddenly, the dots began to connect for her. After a moment of reluctance, Mikasa would double click the email and open it up. Only to be greeted with nothing more than an audio file. “Okay, this is strange..” but alas, she’d still proceed and once it began playing, there was no doubt in her mind who the sender was..as she allowed it to play, the manager began to tear up, along with a soft chuckle. It was all making sense now..and needless to say, she was backed into a corner.

“You bastard..damn you. You always did get your way, I guess this time is no different.”

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞

if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! please check out some of my other stuff in the masterlist. Likes are appreciated but reblogs would mean the world and help me out a TON! Also, considering leaving a little something in the tip jar if you’re feeling extra generous! 🫶🏾

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cannedpickledpeaches · 2 months

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Insert Your Name (5)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: Overthinker reader having a conversation with Mr. "Just Trust Me" Jade Leech. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-writes @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe

“Would you like some tea?”

Jade offers you a cup of something that smells like lavender. You shake your head.

“I’m okay.” You turn your attention back to your screen. He sets the cup and saucer next to you anyway. “Who knows, maybe you’ve put a suspicious substance in it.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I can do something out of the kindness of my heart?”

You chuckle and shake your head. “You? Absolutely not. Give an inch and you take a mile.”

There’s a beat where he doesn’t reply. You look up at him, wondering if you’ve said something strange, but his back is turned as he walks to his seat. When he turns back around to settle in his chair, his expression stills like a frozen pond. Perfectly crafted, carefully unreadable.

A few hours have passed since his phone call. You’ve decided to work in Jade’s office today, thinking that you might get a clue or a burst of inspiration if one of the subjects of your thoughts is in close proximity. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, his quiet hums and constant catering to your needs indicates that he’s rather pleased. Aside from the cup of tea releasing a wispy veil of steam, there’s also a plate of cookies and a bowl of cherries on his desk beside you.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

You close your laptop and sigh. There are too many to count, all swirling in your head without rest.

“Still thinking about what you told me this morning.” You don’t want to address the bigger issue—that (Y/N) apparently forgot who you are—so you start small. “I didn’t expect you to actually fall asleep.”

“Neither did I.” Jade frowns in thought. “I imagine it is a result of too few hours of sleep throughout the week.”

“Even so, you said it yourself. You can’t sleep around strangers.” You drum your fingers on the desk. “Maybe you actually do feel at ease around her.”

“That is not the case.” His voice carries certainty that surprises you. When you glance at him, you notice that his mouth is set in a firm line. “I was quite unsettled when I woke up.”

“Huh.” You can imagine it. His shock at his lapse in vigilance. But even so, no matter how tired he is, he has never made this sort of blunder before. “I guess there’s a first for everything.”

A shadow passes over his face. He stands next to your chair and leans over you. His eyes stare straight into yours—piercing mismatched eyes with an almost magnetic pull.

“I will ask you the same question as last night. Do you really believe that manuscript is a reflection of things that will certainly come to pass?”

Your heart jumps. Is he using Shock the Heart? But a few seconds pass, and no words leave your lips. This is not his Signature Spell. This is Jade Leech asking you a sincere, serious question. Besides, you have no reason to lie.

“Like I said, I don’t know—”

“Then don’t talk and act as though it is.” Is that frustration in his voice? He maintains eye contact with you, and you feel as though you can’t look away. “I, for one, think a predetermined future is horribly boring. My actions dictated for me, every event predictable . . . . I would sooner abandon it all and throw caution to the wind. The only reason why I am following the manuscript is because it outlines a way to restore my parents’ health.”

His sentence ends on half a breath, as though he originally intended to say more. He doesn’t. You wait, but nothing comes out.

“And?”

He kneels beside your chair, no longer towering over you or crowding your space. When he speaks again, he is quiet. But in the silence of his office, you hear it clear as day.

“And because that is what you want.”

Many history textbooks praise the Sea Witch for her spells and potions. One of the most famous ones took away a mermaid’s voice. You wonder if this is what that mermaid felt like. A storm of thoughts, but none able to be processed by your vocal chords. Parted lips that leak no sounds. You stare, nonplussed.

Eventually, you manage to let out a breathy, barely-heard whisper.

“What?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “That is the truth. If that is what you wish for, then I will do my best to live up to your expectations. I know your good friend (Y/N)’s life is difficult. I know you think that by following this manuscript, everyone will be happy, because that is what it says will happen.”

You continue staring. The words seem to pass through you. It’s as though you are sitting in a dream, your surroundings wavering and surreal. What is he saying?

“The truth is that I could simply care less about (Y/N). She is at most an acquaintance. The reason why I give her special treatment is because I know she is precious to you.” He keeps rambling. You get the sense that he has been keeping quiet about this for a while. “As for the matter concerning my parents. If we follow the story, there is still no guarantee that they will be cured. Even you said you do not know if the manuscript’s plot will certainly come to pass. If Vil Schoenheit refuses to help my family, we will think of another way. He is not the only alchemist or curse expert in the world.

“I will follow what you want. But do not ask me to fall in love with (Y/N). That is the one thing I cannot do.”

“Why?” Your brain feels like porridge. Nothing seems to be getting through it. You cannot reason out a single thing. Isn’t (Y/N) created to be loved? Aren’t they written to fit like a glove on each other’s fingers? You’ve read the story. There doesn’t seem to be a particular reason why the Jade in the story obsesses over her aside from spending time together. It doesn’t actually matter. It’s the author’s will that their love is written in the stars—and the pages of that damn manuscript. It’s the point of the entire plot. “Is there something you don’t like about her?”

“Do I need a reason for failing to fall in love?”

Your mind blanks. Does he need a reason? He has a similar line in the manuscript. Do I need a reason for falling in love? If you think about it, isn’t it the same? No matter how you try and reason out the answer, love is not a puzzle with a logical answer. There is no formula, no recipe, no surefire step-by-step manual that you can follow to ensure success. Sometimes a spark causes a flame, and sometimes it sizzles out and dies. There is nobody to blame for either outcome.

You can’t wrap your mind around it. Why. Why. Why. Your brain, constantly overflowing with thoughts, cannot leave this topic to rest. A puzzle without an answer leaves you feeling antsy. Not knowing everything is a sin to your conscience.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“That is how love tends to be.”

An unsatisfactory answer. You dig your nails into your palm.

“Then answer me this. Why do you follow what I want? Is it because I’m interesting? No, that’s not right. You just said following a pre-written script is boring, and that’s exactly what I told you to do. I don’t understand.”

“The script is boring. You are anything but.”

“Me? What have I done?”

He smiles, then, one wholly different from his polite masks or his teasing grins or even his unhinged laughter. It’s an expression you associate with the times he talks about his interests. The expression that blankets and scatters across his countenance like orange rays of the setting sun over ocean waves. A quiet and calm beauty. A fondness that he rarely allows to be seen.

“Did you know that when you have much on your mind, you look up to the sky? That is why you prefer rooms with windows. The attic in my home that you love so dearly is one such room, and you spend all your time there nestled on the window seat. On that topic, you prefer small spaces because it helps you feel secure while you think. This is because you tend to zone out, and it is easier to defend yourself when no threats can appear behind you.”

“Uh, this is more like a behavioural report than a reason.”

“I do adore observing your behaviour. Particularly when you are lost in thought. I find myself wondering what you’re thinking about. If you’ll share them with me. But oftentimes, you do not trust me enough to do so.”

You swallow hard. “It’s hard to.”

“Why is that? I’ve known you for fifteen years. Floyd has known you for just as long, Azul a little less. (Y/N) has only known you for one year. So why can’t you trust me?”

You fiddle with your fingers, no longer capable of meeting his gaze. This kind of outburst is not something you expected from Jade. How long has he been thinking this way?

“I can’t tell what’s going on in your head. That’s why. Everything you say or do just gives me more to think about. If you’re being genuine or not, if you’ll suddenly decide to turn on me, things like that.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes. His smile shifts from fond to rueful and raw desperation permeates his shaky voice. It sounds brittle, as though a well-aimed push would shatter it into infinitesimal pieces.

“Is it so inconceivable that I could do things for you without ulterior motives?”

You look away. “Only until it no longer serves your interests or amuses you. Even if I can’t trust you fully, I’m sure there’s at least some level of it between us. I mean, we see each other regularly. I even let you drive me home.”

“Yes, but I am afraid I am a greedy man. Anyone else turning their back on me would be tolerable, but you—if it’s you . . . . At least promise me this. Even if I turn on the entire world,” he declares quietly, “promise you will trust that I will not betray you.”

You open your mouth as though to reply. Nothing comes out. You try again, your fingers gripping your knees tightly.

“I think we’re too similar. We’re both too cautious. We both think too much. Because of that, I can’t let my guard down around you.”

“Yet that is exactly what fascinates me.” He places a hand over yours. “Trying to decipher your thoughts, wondering about the motivations behind your actions, these are all things I find myself enthralled by. Your brutality and decisiveness towards that which would benefit you, but your willingness to do anything for the people dear to you. Your cautious nature as you execute your bold plans. Every time I think I have you pinned down, I only unearth another layer. The mystery intrigues me. On the other hand, I cannot help but wish you would trust and open up to me a little more.”

“That’s contradictory.”

“I cannot help it.” He smiles wryly. “I am contradictory by nature, as are you.”

You study his hand that engulfs yours. Cool to the touch. Ungloved, too. You muster your resolve.

“Then promise you won’t lie to me.” You finally lift your gaze until it returns to his eyes. Clear eyes that have been by your side for years. The eyes of a liar and schemer. Ironic for the one who wields a Signature Spell that forces out the truth. But these are the eyes of Jade Leech, and you won’t try to make him be someone he isn’t. “Lie to everyone else, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me. You can try to trick me or give me half-truths. I’ll figure them out on my own. If I still get fooled, that’s on me. Just don’t outright lie.”

The pounding of your heart fills your ears. Then, it is replaced by the sound of his quiet laughter.

“I expected nothing less from you.” He brings your hand up to touch his cheek. It only lasts a moment before he lets go and stands back up, returning to his seat. “I give you my word. I will never lie to you again.”

You look at the teacup on the desk, the lavender tea inside now cooled. The untouched cookies and cherries. A soft clink rings out as you take the teacup and bring it to your lips. Sweet and fragrant. Even cold, the tea Jade brews is impeccable.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst fanfic #twst jade #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #multi chap fic #mafia au #jade promised to brew a relaxing tea last chapter #lavender tea promotes sleep and stress relief #even if you don't drink it the scent helps #so he wins whether you drink it or not #slow burn

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hyperfixationstati0n · 7 months

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When you know, you know

An: so… I got very carried away and didn’t realize I was taking so long to get to the romance stuff that I barely had any time for romance stuff!! so the promise is if you like this pretty please tell me and I’ll make a part two (also I wrote this in first person by accident and it was too late to change it and I kinda like it more)

Pairing: Spencer x bookstore owner!reader

Content warnings: I tried to make it gender neutral but it could come across as more fem if you squint, lowkey slow burn, both Spencer and reader are socially awkward (but reader is more than Spencer), there is A swear

Word count: 1,106

Summary: When Spencer Reid walks into your bookstore, you’re stunned and speechless, yet also too afraid to talk to him. But fate brings people together in odd ways.

When I made the biggest decision of my life to drop most of my savings on a rundown shop at the edge of town, the regret was almost instant. The anxiety seeped down from my brain to deep in my body, settling in my bones before reaching my heart. As progress was made and it started to look like the bookshop of my dreams, the anxiety lessened, but not by much.

For the first few months, it was just me. There weren’t many customers, which I was fine with. Since I was the only one there, that meant I had to work the register. Every time someone walked in and I heard the little chime of the bell I had on the door, my knees started feeling like jelly. I got nervous talking to people.

So when I was finally able to hire some help, it was like the weight of the world had been lifted off my chest. I had two employees, one older woman who lived in the apartment building next door. Her name was Rose and she smelled like vanilla she always brought in baked goods. She helped me keep the store organized. Then there was Lennon, a 21-year-old college student who was looking to make some extra money before graduation. Lennon's whole existence was working the register. It worked. Our little trio soon caused the bookstore to grow. not by much, but at least now I was making more than I was spending.

About a year and a half into this endeavor was the first time he came in. I was restocking the fantasy section. The chime of the bell made my head turn-that’s when I was met with this feeling I could only describe as fate. He had these hazel eyes, golden curly hair, and such an awkward demeanor that it almost rivaled my own. I felt a tinge of pink cross my cheeks and I immediately turned my attention back to the copy of “The Lord of the Rings” lying in my hand. I put it back on the clean wooden shelf as I heard Lennon greet the man who had just walked in. As much as I tried to keep to myself and focus on my task, I was listening out for where he went in the store. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, he didn’t go down the fantasy aisle. I see his tall figure through the space in the books as he checks out and leaves. It felt like I had just had the wind knocked out of me just by him standing there, my heart rate a little elevated and a clear amount of blood rushing to my cheeks.

Lennon never let me live it down.

It only got worse over the next coming weeks, when this mystery man I was swooning over kept coming in. And I avoided him every time. I learned through Lennon (my little stalker) that his name was Spencer Reid. Spencer was always very kind to Rose whenever he was there, oftentimes humoring the old woman’s ramblings with some of his own. I mean, it was like he wanted me to fall for him. His presence made the once dusty and desolate bookstore more warm and lively than it had ever been.

But he never spoke to me.

Or I didn’t speak to him, rather. I was too scared I’d stumble over my own words and lose him before I even had him.

But like clockwork, with the chime of the bell, Spencer was in my store again. Only there was an issue. It was close to closing time, and I had let Lennon go home early that day as he had a nasty cold and I was too much of a germaphobe to approve of him being in the store. And not just that, Rose had gone home too because her daughter was visiting for the weekend. So there I was, standing at my least favorite place in the world, the cash register, making brief eye contact with the man I had been gushing over (but never actually talked to) for almost 3 months, completely alone. I was fucked.

He flashed me an awkward smile and a wave before going down the small science and math section we had. As soon as he was out of sight, I was frantically texting Lennon who told me to:

“Grow some balls”

Good advice, actually. I waited, tapping my nails on the register as I debated going to see if he needed help with anything. But before I could even finish that thought, there he was, with a stack of maybe 4 or 5 books in his hand. How my mystery man went through books so fast, I didn’t know. But I wanted to know.

I smiled at him and started scanning one of the books-“Cosmos” by Carl Sagan. Then, I went for it. Months of pining and crushing had led up to this moment.

“Did you find everything alright today?”

Well…at least I said something.

His eyes, one of the many things about him that entranced me, met mine. He nodded and smiled softly. I swear I could’ve died happy right then and there.

“Yeah…you guys have a great store here.”

I smile and scan another book.

“Thank you! It’s-well, I’m the owner.”

“Really? Wow-I didn’t know. I never usually see you when i come in.”

I smile more awkwardly as I scan another book from his stack.

“Yeah, yeah. Usually, I keep to the back. The register is not my thing.”

“Well, you’re doing great. With everything. Seriously, this is the best bookstore in town. I’m surprised you don’t get more customers.”

I blush more obviously than I would’ve liked. I scan the last book and start ringing him up. He pays in cash.

“You’re very kind. I-we, love seeing you in here.”

Nice save.

He takes his bag, full to the brim with books, and looks at me for a moment. Just looks. Suddenly I was very aware of how I looked, My jeans were a little too worn, my sweater had a small paint stain on it, and my hair slicked back into a bun as I hadn’t washed it yet. But his eyes were kind, not judging. My heart was beating and all of a sudden, I knew something. Something I couldn’t quite place my finger in.

He gives a small wave, and I give one back, offering a quiet goodbye.

But just as he’s about to leave, I hear a sentence that would haunt me forever.

“You should work the register more often instead of hiding behind the bookshelves.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #x reader #spencer x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #mgg #multi chapter #multi chap fic #first chapter #spencer reid fluff #Spencer reid #☆wykyk

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lowkeyremi · 2 months

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HE'S TROUBLE - All Chapters Atsumu x fem!reader

✧ Summary: Starting fresh is never that easy and here you are starting a new school year as a freshman in college. Frat boy Atsumu is determined to make your life all the harder, because why the hell not? Will you make it to the end of your first year without losing your shit?

✧ Content: Implied black female reader but anyone can read (reader wears a scarf/bonnet to bed), fluff at times, alcohol consumption (not of reader), suggestive (mentions of sexual content and whatnot), swearing, Atsumu can’t take no for an answer, fighting (Atsumu punches someone), the Miya twins have a little sister, cheating, all in all Atsumu is ultimately a sweetheart. (divider)

ONE - MOVING IN

TWO - FRAT PARTY... COUNT ME OUT

THREE - KISS AND TELL

FOUR - VOLLEYBALL GAME

FIVE - FUCK EXAMS

SIX - LUNCH DATE

SEVEN - MOUNTAIN TRIP

EIGHT - YOUR MAN CAN'T FIGHT

NINE - ANOTHER CHANCE?

TEN - BE MINE?

ELEVEN - THE END IS NEAR

TWELVE - YOU'VE MADE IT

✧ BONUS CHAPTERS ✧

THIRTEEN - GOING HOME

FOURTEEN - MAMA LOVES YOU

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hoodie-buck · 1 year

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army!eddie/babysitter/buck au has arrived y’all!! this is my baby, my absolute pride and joy, and i’m so happy to finally share with y’all 🥹 hope you enjoy <33

rated: e | chapter 1/10 | words: 5.7k | read on ao3

summary:

“Does this story have a point?” Eddie questioned, Lena narrowing her eyes at him; it would’ve felt threatening had he not known she was more bark than bite.

“This guy, my sort of friend—what if he could watch Chris for you?”

Eddie furrowed his brows together. “You want me to leave my kid who’s halfway across the country with some—stranger?” Was she out of her damn mind?

“It beats having him sent home to your parents, right?”

Well, she had a point there.

Eddie shook his head, overwhelmed with his thoughts.

“Look, I appreciate it Bosko, but I just—I don’t know. This is my kid we’re talking about.”

“I know that, and I know how much you love him. Hell, you’ve sent me ten plus emails when I was watching him for you.”

Eddie looked to where there was a line coming out of the office, his other teammates no doubt having several emergency questions of their own. He turned to Lena, giving his full attention.

“Alright, tell me about this friend of yours.”

—or—

The one where Eddie’s in the army, Shannon gives up her rights to Chris, and Eddie needs a babysitter. Good thing Lena knows Buck, the guy having nothing better to do than help babysit until Eddie gets back. Eddie would come home, and he would leave; it wasn’t like they were going to build some lifetime friendship or anything.

**if you wanna be tagged in chapter updates lmk, otherwise i’ll just tag everyone again once it’s finished posting <33**

tagging squad below, lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3

tags: @heartbeatdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @confetti-cupcake @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @swiftiebuckleyhan @loveyourownsmiilee @justsmilestuffhappens @dorkydiaz @honestlydarkprincess @zainclaw @eddiescowboy @djdangerlove @bifirefighters @mr-and-mr-diaz @buddierights @crazyfangirlallert @monsterrae1 @wh0re-behavi0r @panicatthediaz @jacksadventuresinwriting @stanningsky @buckaroo118 @angelwiththeblue-box @spotsandsocks @elvensorceress @alyxmastershipper @buddiearemydads

#buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #christopher diaz #lena bosko #911 fox #army!eddie/babysitter!buck au #multi chap #heavy angst #angst with a happy ending #tenderness #slow burn #literal sleeping together #long distance relationship #idiots in love #kel(s) writing

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inthe-afterglows · 2 years

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At The Beginning

Chapter 10 is now up!!!!

Snippet:

She wanted to stand up and announce she was who James said she was. She wanted to declare herself as Princess Liliana, the rightful Queen of Great Britain and she wanted to tell them to shut up about the politics and logistics and strategies and just get her husband back. She had a grand vision of how it would play out in her mind. They’d fall silent and they’d listen and she’d order them about and they’d go after James and bring him home. But reality, she knew, would play out differently.

They would think she was a mad, lying witch. She would have to waste time convincing them one by one. She would have to face questions on where she had been for the last thirteen years. It would waste time, not to mention, break her promise. Tell no one who you are. That was what James had instructed all those days ago and she’d agreed. But they were sitting around a dining table, bickering about strategy and all she wanted to do was say something to make them stop. To make them get her husband back because didn’t they know that too much time had been wasted already?

“… can’t just go sashaying across the country side blindly-” Moody was arguing.

“It’s not blind! We know where they’re taking them and if we can intercept before they reach Fort Azkaban-”

“Before being the operative word, Black! I know you and you’re reckless! At this point there’s no guarantee we could catch up with them-”

“Because we’re too busy arguing over logistics! I didn’t come back for this. I came back to get a fresh horse-”

“You came back because your damn leg had a bullet rip through it!”

AO3

#atb #jily #jily fanfic #multi-chap #james potter #lily evans #sirius black #marauders #remus lupin

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okwonyo · 9 months

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SUPER SHY ⊹ S.JY

✸ SYNOPSIS ！ : in which there is lot of embarrassing moments in life, when you trip in front of the whole school or when your mom calls you out during a family gathering. but you know what is more embarrassing? not being able to talk to the prettiest girl on campus ─ especially when you are known for having a lot of rizz.

or in which jake has a big fat crush on you, is very pathetic and extremely delusional about it, embarrasses himself every time he tries to ask you out and his friends are no help.

PARING ⌇sim jaeyun ⨯ fem!reader

𐙚 GENRE student au, classmates to lovers, fluff, humorous, tiny bit of angst, smau + maybe some written chapters, reader is kinda oblivious at the start..

FEATURING ୭ৎ enhypen! all, lesserafim! yujin + chaewon, aespa! ningning, zerobaseone! gunwook + gyuvin

📁 riki's (un)safe space﹒ eumppappa fighting ! ﹒privs

MASTERLIST

001 i will find you (gothic font)

002 i b in situations

003 I DROVE????

004 oh okay

005 oh my ba

006 and that's when i froze

007 meanwhile

008 if you insist !

009 im trying my best

010 bald..?

...more tba

(chapters names are subjected to change)

TAGLIST : @i020904 @stories-inbetween-the-stars @txtlyn @xyadix @yunicide @suminsfav @ghostiiess @bluxjun @beomgyusonlywife @j1nniee @hyhees @mixtape-racha @astrae4 @articxari @delulu4-life @manooffline @jeongintwt @riskiriki @planethyuka @fakeuwus @haechansbbg @222brainrot @ikeuvleyz @teddywons want to be added ? go here.

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 4 months

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I Can Fix That... Pt. 2 | Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

author's note: I decided to make a pt. 2 purely for my own enjoyment, though I hope there are others out there as sadistic as myself. I finally watched the Batman trilogy and did research on DC fan pages to write this. It follows the plot of Nolan's DC adaptation so all characters mentioned (like Ra's Al Ghul) are from the comics and movies.

Summary| She gave into Crane because she needed to survive, at least that's what she's tried to tell herself, but there was something about this man that just felt so painfully... right. Now Crane has a proposition and he doesn't intend to take no for an answer because he's starting to like her -- uh oh-- too much. Where will their new agreement lead them when Gotham devolves into chaos?

Warnings| Based on an DC action movie- drugging, slut shaming, fear and terror, dubious kidnapping, restraints, drugs, physical violence, spitting, toxic relationship, mentions of a gun, chaos, and needles. I know- it's a lot.

word count: 8596k (lol oopsies?)

Wires- The Neighborhood 🎶

Where did you sleep last night- Iridium, Salazar, Liam Marks 🎵

Caesar on a TV Screen- The Last Dinner Party 🎶

The detective nodded her head, surprised that she’d so easily forgotten her plan. Dr. Crane sniffed and spun his set of keys around his finger casually.

“Now the best thing about being the creator of my fear serum,” he started, moving to the shelf of vials he had previously sorted, “is that I have an endless supply and every opportunity to use it whenever I want.” She could hear him smile but she could no longer see him. Crane admittedly liked the girl and he’d fucked her as a minor pivot in his original plan for the night. Now, it was time for business. He pulled a dish of powder from a locked drawer and hid it away from sight as he crossed back into the girl’s view. “You may think you understand what my serum can do, but you’ll never truly know until you try it.” She furrowed her brow and shook her head, wishing that she could back away from him but she couldn’t move. He changed the subject swiftly, not giving her a moment.

“I applaud you for your performance tonight. I was more than willing to humor you and of course, your present state did you many favors. I like my women tied down…” he joked and chuckled darkly. “But now, we need to get practical.” He removed his glasses and folded them slowly. He slipped them into his breast pocket. “You know too much, Miss —, and we both know that your current allegiance to your job would prioritize a crude sense of justice over your affection for me. We can’t have that, can we? So, I’d like to propose a solution or a treatment of sorts.” He clenched his jaw, angling his head down so that he was looking up at her through his eyelashes. “You’ve already proven to yourself tonight that the mind has complete control over the body. Desire rules judgment… and I want to rule you.” He smiled darkly. Before she could speak, powder was thrown into her face, blocking every orifice with a sickening gas.

The anxiety was immediate. She saw strange creatures approach her from all sides, poking and prodding her with dirty nails. She saw the walls leak a disgusting fluid, like blood and fecal matter and it spilled over the floor. People sorted through the liquid for scraps, children screamed and cried around her. She’d been one of those children, raised in an orphanage because her parents couldn’t afford to keep her. Strange men swarmed the children, offering toxic treats and money for favors which the children shied away from. She screamed, pulling at her restraints as she tried to fight off the assailants. She shook her head violently side to side, and she screamed involuntarily with raw terror at what she saw. In the midst of a nightmare of Gotham’s poverty and dark underbelly, Dr. Jonathan Crane stood calmly before her. He watched her, his arms crossed against his chest. He cocked his head to the side.

“What do you see,” he asked calmly. She turned her attention to him like he was a beacon of light in a horrible storm.

“Jonathan, help me!” She cried.

“Tell me what you see,” he said again and clucked his tongue to calm her. She looked around again at the people she saw, rummaging through mountains of trash.

“Horrible… horrible poverty. The things… the things I saw as a child. People starving, children crying…” she whimpered. Rats scrambled across her body and she screamed again, shaking against the table. “Jonathan, please!” She called for him and he waded towards her, oblivious to the horror around him. He stood above her and stroked her face. He removed the restraints from her waist and her wrists and helped her sit up. The things she saw darted out of her peripheral vision, distorted now and hard to understand. She couldn’t run because she couldn’t tell where she was anymore, where her body was in relation to her perspective. Did she even still have a body?

Dr. Crane grunted as he helped her off the table and held her up beside him. She fainted in his arms and he carried her out of the secondary lab into the corridor. He punched the elevator’s call button with his free hand and dragged her inside. As the large steel doors closed, he fished for his cellphone in his pocket and called his driver, telling him to meet him outside the hospital immediately. Crane hushed her, gently patting her head though she was still unconscious. The elevator dropped them at the floor she’d entered on originally and Crane carried her to the side door, ignoring the looks the night attendants gave the strange couple. A sleek black car waited outside in the alley, the engine running and dispelling smoky exhaust into the air around them. Crane opened the car door and helped her inside, smirking at the security guard at the door.

“Our meeting was successful, thank you officer.” He waved goodnight to the security guard who shifted awkwardly in his seat at the side door. Climbing in after her, Crane leaned over the console to speak with his driver.

“My apartment, please.” He gave the order sternly, even with the addition of the ‘please,’ and the driver nodded, speeding off into Gotham’s dark streets. His hand rested comfortably on her thigh as he watched her. She started to come to in the backseat, though the effects of the drug had still not worn off. Her breath was fast and she leaned deliriously into Crane’s shoulder, seeking protection from what she saw outside the tinted windows. She was so afraid that she felt safer in the arms of the man that had drugged her, and it would take hours to realize that, but by the time she did, the psychological effects would have already taken root.

The car stopped outside of a dark apartment building in one of the only nice parts of town in Gotham city. It was raining as he helped her back out of the car and into the large lobby of his apartment building. She clung to his arm as he led her into an elevator, playing a soft melody that sounded like shrill screams to her intoxicated mind. As the elevator doors opened, effects of the drug began to wane though her heartbeat was still racing. She looked up at Crane’s sharp jaw and how he clenched it as he opened the door to his apartment and pushed her gently inside.

“I pay my people extra to turn a blind eye to everything that I do. I understand these circumstances appear even more nefarious, being that I have admittedly drugged you and brought you to my apartment. What can I say, I’m a bad feminist.” He smiled darkly and locked the door.

“When do I stop seeing… these things?” She collapsed into a chair behind her and cradled her head in her hands.

“The effects will be gone in an hour,” he responded coolly and switched on some of the lights in his modern apartment. The apartment was two stories with a spiral staircase and an elevator that led to the upstairs. She looked around, trying her best to ignore the hallucinations and study the actual apartment itself.

“You’ll be disappointed to know that I don’t have a lab here, it’s against the building’s codes. I spend very little time here actually, I’m always at Arkham or dealing with detectives… like you. I’m a busy man. Like I already told you, I have plans to ‘treat’ Falcone tomorrow so I’ll need that room free. This is the next best option and I think you’ll find it more comfortable in comparison.” He smirked and flicked a switch, immediately two restraints looped tightly around her wrists, emerging from a panel in the arms of the chair that she hadn’t noticed. Second restraints looped around her ankles, reminding her as her ankles were spread apart that he had removed her underwear. She turned her knees inward, hiding her crotch and scoffing with frustration.

“Again?” She groaned and pulled at the strong leather material holding her to the chair.

“You sound disappointed,” Crane observed with a small smirk. “It’s only temporary. I didn’t get a chance to question you back at the lab, so we’ll do that here.” He gestured to his empty apartment and started to walk toward her slowly. His lips curled cruelly as he looked her up and down, strapped to the chair. “So tell me, what do you know?” He whispered and she stopped struggling for a moment. She still felt jumpy and nervous but having him so close relieved some of those feelings. The effects of the drug wore off more but the underlying sense of anxiety and loss of control prompted her to answer honestly.

I know that you are trying to make a powerful drug that mimics fear and so far, you’ve put it in a powder form. It works when ingested in some ways and immediately elicits a response that incapacitates the victim. You want to use it widely, to control Gotham…”

“Right, what else.” He leaned on the arms of the chair, his hands grasped around her wrists.

“You don’t work for Falcone but you work with someone else. You’ve just been using Falcone’s drug operation to move your own prototypes of the fear serum. You want to be in charge and you know that fear can do whatever you want it to. The mind controls the body,” she recalled a sentence that he had used before he had thrown the powder in her face. “You’re also somehow connected to the missing micro-wave emmitter. I don’t know why but it may help you in some way, how?” She was breathing heavily like she was going to fall asleep.

“Good work, detective.”

“What are you using the micro-wave emitter for?” She asked. He chuckled and removed his hands from her wrists, backing up. He approached a small liquor cart and poured himself a drink, straight gin. She continued as he drank.

“Who are you working with and how do you expect to control Gotham when everyone loses their minds?” She could barely contain her voice, anger and confusion rose into her throat like bile.

“So many questions…” he swallowed and set down his glass, turning back to her slowly. “Aren’t you supposed to figure that out for yourself?” He raised his eyebrow.

“The mirco-wave emitter would dry out any water supply that it comes into contact with. Wouldn’t it be easier to poison the water supply, you would reach more people… unless it doesn’t have the same effect when administered in water.” She looked up at him but his face was hard. “That’s why you’ve been using it in a powder, it only works in a powder form. If you dry up the water supply and release the powder into the air, there isn’t a way to combat the effects, is there?”

Crane smiled and nodded slowly, “right again.”

“How can you control people who have lost their minds on the serum? You can’t control chaos.” She furrowed her brow and leaned forward, questioning him. Crane cocked his head and studied her for a moment, noticing the last traces of the fear serum leaving her body.

“Control has many forms, Y/N. The chaos that will come from my serum is planned, its existence is strategically executed.”

“But why are you doing this?”

“I love it when you get flustered,” he chuckled darkly at her and licked his lips, his eyes rolling before returning to her face. “It’s not just me, I work for a large organization that has been responsible for all historical catastrophes throughout history. We deal in balance, balanced chaos. They hired me because I can control fear, I know how to use it and weaponize it. Gotham needs to be balanced and it cannot be balanced without it first destroying itself. Create a closed environment with the population’s problems and confront them with chaos, the balance will soon be restored.”

“Who do you work for?” She whispered, her eyes wide.

“Don’t you mean, who do we work for?” He crouched at her feet and placed his hands on her thighs. He smiled crazily up at her and she leaned away from him.

“What?” She whispered.

“I work for the League of Shadows, and now, so do you.” He dug his finger into the soft bottom of her chin and pushed her head up so that she could see the second floor more clearly.

Standing at the rail were men clad in dark armor. One man stood out from the rest. He wore a black suit and carried a gold-tipped cane. He had long whiskers of gray hair like a mustache and steady cool eyes, deadlier than Crane’s.

“Good work, Dr. Crane.” The man kept his focus on her and her blood went cold. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Miss —. We’ve heard so much about you and of course, you’re the one that has caused us so much trouble!” He laughed sarcastically and descended the spiral staircase.

“Who are you?” She growled.

“Ra’s Al Ghul,” he smiled and the wrinkles on his face creased, pulling against his eyes. “I see you’ve already become acquainted with Dr. Crane, our very own criminal mastermind.”

“You’re too kind,” Crane smarted back, watching the girl’s face as she tried to take in all of the new information.

“Now, I have a job proposition to offer you, Miss —. You seem to have figured most of our plan out but I don’t think you understand the complexity of our organization. You see, the League of Shadows is an ancient organization that has balanced the harmony of every major city in the world since the beginning of time. Gotham has gone bad, to the point of no return. Your ‘Batman’ as you call him can’t reverse what has been brewing for years. He never saw what you did, how the people of Gotham live in filth and poverty while the elite few enjoy the spoils. This city needs to be reborn, it needs chaos to restore the balance.”

“But wouldn’t you be killing thousands of innocent people?” She interjected and Al Ghul shrugged slightly.

“Nobody’s innocent,” he answered quickly and then inhaled, clarifying, “Anyway, that’s not what we want to do here. If we take control of the city and hold it for ransom, we can work out a deal to replace the crooked government with some of our people. I’m offering you a role alongside my people. You’re smart, all that evidence you collected against Crane- none of the senior officers could have held a match to it. We destroyed it of course, as soon as Crane told us about your little visit.” She looked past Al Ghul to Crane who leaned against the wall calmly. Had they destroyed the copies? How could she be sure that they were telling the truth? “The box of evidence you had put aside for Sgt. Gordon was the hardest to find but we found it. What made you suspect Dr. Crane? Was it a gut instinct?” He drew on before she interrupted him.

“You want me to help you kill people?” She furrowed her brow and nearly laughed in disbelief.

“We want your help to save Gotham from itself and establish a new and better government.” He corrected, fixing his posture. Crane watched her closely and spoke up from the back of the room.

“She’ll do it,” he answered and she opened her mouth to interject but his smirk silenced her. “She’ll do it because whether or not she wants to admit it, Miss —, is like us.” Crane reached into his breast pocket and removed his glasses. He cleaned the panels with a dish towel and pushed them onto his nose. She looked between Crane and Al Ghul, her heart beating quickly in her chest.

“Will you join us, will you help us save Gotham?” Ra’s Al Ghul placed both of his hands on top of his walking stick and shifted his weight evenly between his feet. Crane folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side, a knowing smile played on his wide pink lips. Her decision surprised her but the serum had already changed her chemistry, Crane had revealed her true self to herself and there was only one choice left.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Crane nodded, “good girl.”

iii

She was released from her restraints and she rubbed her wrists where the leather marked them. Ra’s Al Ghul snapped his fingers and a map was rolled out on Crane’s dining room table. The map was of the entire city of Gotham, showing the sewer and water lines. They explained the plan, showing her where the micro-wave emitter would be placed in the city and how it would be moved through each neighborhood.

“What about the police?” She asked and gestured to the map of the city. Crane laughed and shook his head.

“You were the only cop that suspected this, the rest will have no idea until it's already started. The person we really need to worry about is Batman,” he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced up at Al Ghul, “luckily for him, an old friend is coming by to visit.” Al Ghul nodded and smiled kindly at her.

“Batman and I go way back. I’ll take care of him.”

“What am I supposed to do?” She asked, her arms crossed beneath her breasts. Crane caught himself staring and cleared his throat.

“You’ll help me with the production of the powder, ensuring that your cop friends don’t figure out too much and keeping Sgt. Gordon away from Arkham or leading him astray… anything,” Crane answered, setting his face as he spoke. She nodded.

Though they had asked her to join their efforts, they also obviously didn’t trust her completely. They wouldn’t tell her everything, she knew. Her night had gone in a completely different direction than how she had imagined it. Everything had changed after the fear serum, it had shown her that what she feared most had already happened. The police were corrupt, run by small-time gangsters and criminals and crime continued to run rampant as the state lost more and more money, forcing social service organizations to close and more families out on the streets. This whole time she thought that the police could solve the problem but they only caused it. Crane was right, she was like him and she would do anything she could to change the city. After the meeting, Crane poured her a drink and dissolved a packet of powder into the liquor. He stirred it in front of her and Al Ghul before sliding it across the table’s surface.

“This will put you to sleep for a few hours, twelve at most. It’s only a precaution to make sure that you have truly promised your allegiance to us. Everything that you say will be monitored from this point on.”

“Everything?” She looked at Crane who clenched his jaw, a faint tease of blush spread on his cheeks.

“Everything. Do as we say and follow our rules and you stay alive,” Crane finished and tapped the rim of the glass. “Now drink.”

“How do I know that you aren’t just poisoning me?” She asked the men around her.

“We’re learning to trust each other, but you have to go first.” He smiled and when Al Ghul said nothing, she took the glass and drank it slowly. The last thing she saw were Crane’s eyes, set perfectly on her.

She was conscious enough to set her glass down before falling back onto the couch. Crane approached her quickly and checked her pulse, monitoring her reaction to the drug.

“Did it work?” Ra’s Al Ghul asked behind him and he nodded.

“Yes, she’s out. Because of all the drugs in her system already, this one may take longer to wear off.”

“All the other drugs?” Al Ghul raised his eyebrow and Crane chuckled.

“I couldn’t help myself and besides,” he turned to Al Ghul, “you wanted her alive.”

“I’m not convinced that we can trust her,” Al Ghul shook his head and pointed at the map for his men to clean up.

“Oh, I’ll make sure we can.”

“With your mind tricks?” Al Ghul teased and Crane sighed, rolling his beautiful eyes.

“Don’t insult me, Ra’s. I know what I’m doing.” He warned the man calmly and nodded to the men. Two men helped carry her body as Crane led them back down the elevator into the lobby which was deserted at that time in the early morning. They climbed into Crane’s waiting car and pulled away from the curb. The girl’s body was limp against the seat and Crane resisted the urge to stare at her, fascinated by her sleeping body. The men carried her up to her apartment on the third floor of a small walkup. Crane rummaged through her coat pockets for the key into her apartment and unlocked the door.

Her apartment was small and cozy, furnished with minimal couches and chairs. Books and art decorated the walls. Crane pushed through the door and directed the men to lie her down in her bedroom, the small room off of the main living area. They men looked back at him expectantly as he stood by the doorway, watching her sleep. He rolled his eyes and shooed them away. What did they think he was going to do? He’d already fucked her. Alone in her apartment, he stood by her bed and stroked her cheek. She slept on, engulfed by unconscious darkness. He leaned over her slowly and grasped her throat gently, exhaling across her face. He said nothing but looked her up and down and smirked, pleased at the sight of her. He’d won another spoil: her.

She woke up in her bed, twisted in the sheets as if she had been restless all night. She was sweaty and hot, the air stuffy around her. Crane and Al Ghul were nowhere to be seen. She checked her watch and hurried out of bed, stripping off her clothes from the night before and into black trousers and a dark blue sweater. She stumbled into the living room and wound her hair up into a claw clip, moving towards the door when a voice startled her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dr. Crane spoke from the couch. He was in a fresh suit and looked well-rested. He was taking notes in a file on Falcone, his briefcase sat on the coffee table in front of him. She jumped, gasping from shock.

“Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?”

“I was waiting for you to wake up. We have work to do today. That bitch at the DA’s office wants to speak with me. I'm supposed to meet with her this afternoon. She’s questioning Falcone’s transfer.”

“I ordered the transfer after you did Falcone’s interview, maybe I could meet with her instead.”

“No, I need you to take this file to the judge on Falcone’s case. I can handle her questions.” He stood and held out Falcone’s file. “I already gave my statement at the hearing but this file will confirm my medical opinion, hopefully that will get her off my back.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Do you think Falcone will talk if she speaks with him?”

“Possibly,” he bent his head side to side and shrugged, “but we aren’t going to find out. Let’s go,” he snapped his briefcase closed and made for the front door. She glanced from the couch to her bedroom.

“Were you watching me all night?” She flushed angrily and followed him. He closed the door suddenly and spun her around, forcing her back against the front door.

“I can only say this once because they aren’t listening now but as soon as we get in the car, they’ll be monitoring you. I am keeping you alive, Miss —. I will do everything in my power to keep you alive but the second you step away from me, you’re on your own. I know we have an understanding so believe me when I say that I would prefer very much if you didn’t die. Follow my directions because they’re following you.” He said in a harsh whisper, a strand of hair falling into his face. They stared at each other in silence, exchanging breath when he kissed her harshly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned softly against his lips. He bucked into her hips and she gasped softly against his jaw. And just as quickly, he pulled away, breathing heavily and led her out the door and down the stairs into the waiting car.

“I’ll need my gun back,” she pointed out as they settled on the backseat. Crane sighed, unbuttoning his suit jacket. He opened a small compartment in the car door and retrieved her gun. As he held it out, he took her jaw in his other hand, his thumb pressing into her fleshy cheek.

“This is where that trust would come in handy, detective.” He whispered darkly. She looked at his lips and then up to his eyes, speechless around him. He watched her struggle for words and chuckled, handing her the gun. “Be careful, Y/N, and remember Ra’s plan.” He looked at her lips and sniffed, slapping the roof of the car. “This is her stop.”

She met with the judge who oversaw Falcone’s case and gave him the thick folder. He looked at it briefly before recognizing the information.

“I appreciate you coming out to speak to me about Falcone’s transfer to Arkham but I cleared everything with Ms. Dawes yesterday. She’s already scheduled a second psychiatrist to meet with Falcone first thing tomorrow morning. She mentioned that she’s also requested Dr. Crane’s case file. Has she seen this?” He waved the folder and she clicked her tongue, shocked that she had scheduled a second opinion and that Crane didn’t know about it.

“I’m not sure, sir. I was the detective working with the prosecution and I was the one who oversaw Dr. Crane’s examination and request for transfer. I can attest to Falcone's mood at the time as well. He screamed nonstop as Crane was trying to conduct a test of sanity. Anyway, I wanted to make sure that you saw Dr. Crane’s diagnosis in the aftermath of his transfer. This has updated notes that Dr. Crane shared with me. It might be useful in your deliberation.” She smiled and the judge looked down his nose at the folder.

“Good point. Thank you, detective. This is helpful.” He opened the folder on his desk and put on his rounded spectacles.

“Well now that we’ve spoken, I’ll try to catch Dawes and save her the trouble.” She pushed back her chair and brushed off her trousers.

“Miss —?” The judge called from his desk.

“Yes, sir?” She looked back.

“Dr. Crane has committed many of Falcone’s men to Arkham in the past few months, is that correct?”

“Yes,” she nodded and her heart raced.

“That must be a pretty crazy group.” The judge laughed and went back to the folder, completely missing the pattern. She sighed in relief and left quickly. She started to walk to Arkham, moving so quickly she felt like she may have been running. Dawes had already scheduled a second opinion, meaning that she was probably at Arkham pressuring Crane for his detailed diagnosis. It would take Dawes one second to figure it out so she hoped she could get there quickly enough to do something. She had no plan which she knew was stupid but whatever was bound to happen in the next few hours would be bad and she needed to help Crane. Her phone began to ring and she put it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.”

“Ra’s?”

“Are you on your way to Arkham?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Turn around and go back to your precinct. I want you to stick close to Sgt. Gordon, go where he goes. You’re his top detective so run with it. If anything happens at Arkham, he’ll be there and I want you there with him. Crane will be fine.”

She slowed to a stop, skeptical but wanting to believe what her new boss was telling her, “ok, sir.”

After a second of silence, Ra’s added, “It’s Batman’s birthday and what better way to celebrate a playboy than with chaos?” The call ended before she could respond.

She spun around and headed straight for the precinct. She spotted Gordon at his desk, working on paperwork. She hurried over and knocked on the door, letting herself in when he waved.

“Good, I’m glad to see you. I need to run some ideas by you for the Falcone case.”

“I just dropped off Crane's diagnosis for the judge but he said that Dawes may be seeking a second opinion.”

“About that -” The intercom went off with a loud screech.

“Attention all units! Attention all units! Batman was spotted at Arkham Asylum. He is believed to be armed and dangerous. Backup is requested at this time.” The voice repeated with a robotic drone. Sgt. Gordon looked from the speaker to her and grabbed his coat from his chair.

“We need to get to the asylum right now.” Gordon yelled and she followed him closely, checking that her gun was still secured to her hip. She clipped her badge to her front pocket and pretended to sound confused.

“Why are we going, Sgt? Do you think this is about Falcone?”

“It might, I’d feel better if I was there to find out; and if Batman is there, someone’s in trouble.” They hurried down the stairs and climbed into a car. Gordon sped away from the precinct and ran red lights. The tires bled across the roads as they came to a screeching halt behind a row of police cars parked outside the Asylum.

“Why is everyone waiting outside?” She yelled over the noise. An officer standing with his gun aimed at the building yelled back.

“We’re waiting for backup!”

“They’ll be here soon, sir. We should wait!” She yelled over the noise at the Sgt.

Gordon looked up at the building and pulled his gun from his holster. He started moving towards the building, looking back to wave her on.

“I’m going in. You coming?” He called.

She groaned anxiously beneath her breath before responding, “yes, sir!” They raced up the stairs into the lobby which was left completely vacant. Gordon held up his gun and she followed suit, staying close behind him. She felt the urge to kill him now and find Crane but her gut warned her that someone else was in the room, watching. They walked slowly through the main corridor, past the abandoned security checkpoint, creeping closer to the wide atrium. When they stepped beneath the enormous domed ceiling a loud noise broke through the top of the building. She looked up and covered her face with her forearm to protect her eyes from large shards of falling glass. She saw a large dark blur surround Sgt. Gordon and pull him up to the roof.

“Sgt. Gordon!” She yelled after him. She knew immediately that the blur was that bastard Batman. A small laugh escaped her mouth as she shook her head and lowered her gun. A group of SWAT ran in seconds later. She pointed at the ceiling with her gun and called them over.

“He came down and took Sgt. Gordon!”

“Who?” Someone yelled at her and she shook her head, pretending to be unsure.

“I don’t know! I think it was Batman.” She yelled, adding to their panic.

“Batman!” Someone shouted and in the moment of distraction, she slipped away into a side corridor. She bolted towards a staircase and stopped at every floor, looking for signs of activity. Her body burned with soreness as she sprinted down each corridor. She wanted to scream his name but her lungs wouldn’t allow her the extra air to do so. She rounded a corner and ran into a group of police. They all started shouting at her until she showed them her badge.

“I’m a detective- What the hell is going on here?” She yelled.

“We’re looking for Dr. Crane!”

“Have you seen Sgt. Gordon?” She asked, panting and trying not to panic when they mentioned Crane’s name. “He disappeared and I've been looking for him.”

“No, we haven’t. We got a call that they found drugs in the building and then Batman showed up. Crane was running the operation.” One police officer responded and jerked their head to the side where they were going to run next. “It's down this corridor!”

“I’ll come with you,” she shouted and led the unit, her gun pointed at the ground. Two large doors were falling off their hinges further down the hallway. The room itself was smokey and gaseous. She looked down from the doorway where there were stairs leading into a cement lined room like an empty indoor pool. Tables were littered with Crane’s fear serum and men that she assumed were dead. Huge vats of liquid marked with a toxic symbol sat on their sides by an open waterline.

“This is it,” she said to the officer beside her and started to descend the staircase. The smoke made it hard to see so she moved slowly, looking around the floor for Crane’s familiar face. The men she saw were all part of Falcone’s posse who had been hired to help the drug operation run. Something snapped beneath her food and she looked down, seeing Crane’s scarecrow mask which she recognized from his drawing. She picked it up and looked around anxiously, her fingers around the gun shook. Then she saw him. Crane was propped up against a wall and bleeding slightly from the head, a thin trail of blood oozed on the wall behind his head. He was panting and flailing around, his pupils were mere penpoints. He’d been attacked with his own fear powder. She looked around before dropping into a crouch beside him. He recognized her but continued to shake, his eyes darting around her head.

“Jonathan,” she whispered, “it's me.”

“Did you find him?” Someone shouted and she yelled back that she had. He raised a judgemental eyebrow, his mouth forming a cuss word. His glasses were gone.

“Trust me, Crane.” She whispered against his ear and held his wrists together. She took her handcuffs from her belt and handcuffed him.

She leaned against the wall and tapped her foot anxiously as they strapped him into a white straightjacket. She crossed the room and helped the officer secure the last belt, thankful for any excuse to touch him and remind him that she was still there. Looking up at her, he spat and she flinched slightly. His light eyes were ringed with red swollen skin and she wondered if he really felt betrayed by her. She wiped his spit from her cheek and returned to her place by the wall.

“So this is the scarecrow,” Sgt. Gordon entered the room and let the door slam shut. Crane jumped from the noise and closed his eyes, taking a deep shaky breath.

“Scarecrow… scarecrow.” Crane whispered with his eyes closed and shifted within the straightjacket. Sgt. Gordon pulled up a chair, the metal scraping against the floor, bristling Crane into opening his eyes.

“What was the plan, Crane? How were you going to get the toxin into the air?” Gordon asked calmly and fingered the scarecrow mask. Her stomach turned watching Crane struggle to regain control over his mind. He shook and his eyes darted around the room, landing once or twice on her. She kept a straight face, giving no sign that she was terrified that something would happen to him or she would accidentally reveal something about him that they didn’t already know. When Crane didn’t respond, Gordon continued, his voice rising.

“Who were you working for?” Gordon pressed and Crane’s eyes snapped to his, a crazy smile pulling at his lips.

“Oh, it’s too late. You can’t stop it now.” He spoke through shivers, cutting up his words. He smiled at the end and Gordon shook his head. He stood and shoved the mask into her hands.

“Here. Stay with Crane.” He growled and left the room, his footsteps echoing through the heavy steel door. She looked down at the mask in her hands and hid her smile. There was only one officer left in the room with them and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to come up with a quick plan.

“Are there any officers outside?” She asked the cop by the door who peeked his head outside the door.

“No, ma’am.”

“Good,” she smiled and raised her gun when the door snapped behind him. “Then this should be easy.” She cocked the gun and cornered the officer. “Face the wall,” she ordered and when he turned, she hit him over the head with the butt of her pistol, knocking him unconscious. She quickly handcuffed him and checked outside one last time before running over to Crane. He was still recovering from the toxin, his face set in a deep frown. She began to free him from his restraints, glancing at the door every few seconds. His eyes stayed on her face and he kept muttering things below his breath. When she undid the last restraint he jumped up and it fell from around his shoulders to the floor. She started to smile when he lunged at her and pushed her up against the tiled wall. Her hair clip cracked against the tile and clattered to the floor in pieces. She gasped beneath his hands, one holding her throat and the other grabbing the slack in her sweater, exposing her navel.

“You betrayed me,” he growled, “you told Gordon... I saw you.” His eyes were wild and glazed, he looked right through her.

“What?” she gasped out though his hand was crushing her windpipe.

“I saw you two! You fucked him. You fucked him!” He yelled, his body shook with anger like he was coming down from an adrenaline high.

“No, I didn’t!” She struggled beneath his hands, “this is the toxin talking, Jonathan! I didn’t betray you-”

“But you fucked him,” his voice twisted into a heatbreaking whine, an image flicked before his eyes and he closed them quickly, shaking it from his head.

“No!” She coughed and she could feel herself getting light-headed.

“You love him,” his voice was breaking beneath him and his eyes darted between hers as the toxin showed him more and more; everything of which included her.

“Jonathan!” she screamed and hit his chest hard with closed fists, “I can’t fucking breathe!”

His eyes snapped open wider and he released his grip around her throat. Her feet landed on the ground and she coughed, sinking into a crouch against the wall. Crane stepped back and watched her silently. He was still shaking as he ran a hand anxiously through his hair.

“Why would I save you if I loved him?” She cried in frustration, rubbing her bruised throat. “It’s the toxin, Jonathan… I didn’t do the things you think I did,” her voice softened. She looked up at him and stood slowly, grabbing onto the wall for support. Crane cradled his head in his hands and whimpered.

“What do you see?” she asked quietly and stepped closer. He shook his head and created more distance between them. “Jonathan, tell me.” She pressed and he exhaled with a soft shutter.

“You… fuck,” he started through heavy breaths, working himself up again. “I see you and Gordon…” He rubbed his eyes and looked back up at her. “It’s been so long since…”

“Since what?” She furrowed her brow, questioning. His eyes darted away into the corner and he shook.

“Since my father last used it…” he took a deep breath and finished his sentence with a lengthy exhale, “on me.”

“The fear toxin?” She whispered, slowly starting to understand what he was suggesting. He nodded and flinched as if something had attacked him. Was he saying that his father used a prototype of the fear toxin on him? She grabbed onto the sleeve of his suit jacket and tugged his attention away.

“It’s just me. There’s no one else- nothing else in here except for me,” she gestured to the nearly empty room (the officer was still unconscious in the corner). “And I’m here for you,” she whispered and closed the distance between them, her hands slipped around his small waist beneath his suit jacket. She felt his body tense beneath her embrace before slowly (very slowly) releasing its tension. He didn’t hug her back but rested his forehead on her shoulder. She stroked his hair, and found the shallow wound on the back of his head. She ducked her head as she pulled away, finding his mouth and kissing him gently. The toxin was slowly wearing off and she could tell he was only beginning to return to his normal self.

“We need to get up to my office,” he muttered and looked at the door. “They’re releasing the patients.”

“What?” She furrowed her brow. Crane sighed and shook his head.

“Ra’s gave orders to open all of the cells. The patients will be let loose into the city.” He licked his lips and looked down at her. “We need to get upstairs.” His expression was tense as she could tell he was trying to fight the lingering effects of the toxin. She nodded.

“Show me where to go.”

He pulled her through the door and they ran down the corridor to an elevator. When the doors opened, Crane used his key to override the system, preventing anyone else from calling the elevator. He pressed the button for the floor with his office, not realizing that his other hand was squeezing tightly around hers. When the doors opened again, they rushed down the hallway and into Crane’s office. He sighed when the door was locked and the blinds closed.

“What are we going to do?” She asked him quietly and he inhaled slowly.

“I need to inject you with the antidote so the toxin doesn’t affect you when we leave the building.” He murmured, more to himself.

“We’re going out there?” She tried to keep the fear from her voice but he detected it instantly, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you scared?” He asked automatically.

“Of both of us dying out there at the hands of one of your old patients, yes, yes I am.” She nearly laughed.

“Don’t you want to be part of the fun?” The Jonathan Crane she knew was definitely coming back.

“I’d rather not become the ‘fun’,” she quipped and he smirked.

“As you wish.”

She followed him into his lab and he rummaged through a collection of vials arranged on one of the counters. Finding the right one, he slipped it inside a cartridge of what looked like an epipen.

“Pull down your pants,” he ordered and then it was her turn to raise her eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that and do what I tell you,” he said sternly and she did as he asked, pulling down her trousers where he had access to her thigh. “This will hurt,” he warned her before immediately plunging the needle into the fat around her thigh. She hissed in pain and heaved out a breath.

“The good news is that you don’t have to ever do this again,” he patted her leg and buttoned her pants for her. “Now me,” he changed the vial and unbuckled his pants. He raised the hem of his boxers and punctured the needle into his upper thigh. He grunted in pain and closed his eyes for a moment and whistled out a tight breath. A large explosion shook the ground below their feet. She jumped and winced as she landed on her sore leg. Without opening his eyes, Crane nodded.

“And that would be the patients leaving the building now.” He withdrew the needle and tossed it to the side, buckling his pants.

“Let me see your head,” she touched his arm and he leaned forward slightly, turning his head where she could see it clearly. She carded her fingers through his dark hair and parted the dark roots away from the shallow wound. “It's a small cut, you’ll live.”

“Thanks, doctor.” He smirked. Her fingers shifted through his hair as he straightened and she tried not to look disappointed when they were no longer twirled around his black locks.

“Are you back now?” She looked up into his eyes, looking for trances of fear.

“I think so,” he responded and traced his index finger around the collar of her sweater. There were small bruises where his fingers had been when he forced her against the wall in his state of panic. “Was I terrible?” He whispered.

“Not more than usual,” she laughed lightly and covered his hand with hers. “I’m ok.” She insisted and he furrowed his eyebrows and licked his lips.

He was going to apologize, he was going to tell her how much he loved her and that was why he had reacted so strongly to the toxin, but the words died on his lips so instead he said, “We should leave before the city goes all the way under.”

“They’ll raise the bridges so no one can leave, it’s too late.”

Crane chuckled and leaned against the lab table behind him, his fingers grasping around the edge. “And once again, you severely underestimate me. Come on.”

“Get on,” Crane held the bridle and gestured for her to mount the large black steed.

“You’re kidding right?” She looked around at the burning city and then back to the police horse who’d lost its rider.

“I wish I was,” he sighed and tugged her closer by her waistband, “now giddy-up, Miss —.” He joked flatley and pushed her up onto the saddle. He hoisted himself up after her and sat in front, taking the reins in his hands. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed her thighs around the horse's stomach, holding on for dear life.

“Where the hell did you learn to ride a horse?” She yelled over the panic and she felt him chuckle.

“Oh, there are a lot of things that you don’t know about me, detective.” He smirked and kicked the horse into action. She gasped and held him tighter as they flew through the violence-strewn streets. She couldn’t imagine how ridiculous they looked to the people of Gotham but under the influence of the fear toxin, she hoped people were more afraid than amused seeing a man in a full suit riding a horse. Crane focused on the route ahead, navigating them through the broken city.

“Where’s Ra’s?” She yelled into his ear.

“Forget about him.” He growled and urged the horse faster.

“Why? What happened?”

“He tricked me. He didn't just want to impose an arguably better government, he wanted to kill everyone and to kill us too. He tipped off Batman and that’s how Batman found me. He didn't need me after the toxin had been released. He kept you away from me, didn’t he?” He called over his shoulder, leaping over a crashed car.

“Yes, he told me to go to the precinct instead when I tried to warn you about the DA.”

“He wanted Batman to find me and he assumed that you’d get stuck here after you followed Gordon. Two birds with one stone. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” He growled and turned the horse onto a side-street and into an alley.

“Where are we going?” She asked, her grip tightening around Crane as she saw people screaming in the streets.

“To my father’s house.”

“How?” His father’s house? After his father had probably done something horrible to him?

“Just hold on,” he warned and flicked the reins again. She closed her eyes, wanting to block out the terror in the streets. While some of it gave her pleasure to see the raw side of humanity express itself, it reminded her of what she had seen as a child- the side of people that came out when they needed to survive.

They rode to the edge of the city and Crane slowed the horse to a stop beside a tall building that looked abandoned. He hopped off of the horse and helped her down, catching her as she forced herself to slip over the saddle. The building was far enough away from the inner-city that it looked like it hadn’t been touched yet by the chaos, though the toxins had definitely reached it.

“We need to get to the roof,” he informed her calmly and pointed her to the elevator.

“Another elevator…” she whispered beneath her breath, knowing it wasn’t the right time to mention how much she hated the idea of going into one when the world around them was ending. Crane pressed the button labeled “20R,” and the elevator began to soar up. The elevator had windows that opened into the city. As the elevator climbed, they could see the destruction of Gotham and right across the bridge, normalcy.

“Ra’s is moving the micro-wave emitter by the high speed rail. If his plan goes accordingly, the emitter will poison the other side of the city beneath Wayne tower.” He pointed out the tall Wayne building from their vantage point. “I hate Gotham and I hate Batman, but I think I hate Ra’s Al Ghul more.” He sneered distastefully. “We could have run Gotham…” he sighed and shrugged, “maybe another day.”

She couldn’t help herself but laugh. Being with Crane had opened her eyes to a new side of herself, one that was dark and masochistic. She liked this side better, way better. She liked thinking that one day she could be in charge, force out all of the government officials that were too dumb or sexist to listen to her. She could lead beside Crane…

When the elevator doors opened a gust of wind met them. The doors opened onto the roof of the huge building. A helicopter stood in the center of a large bull’s eye, its blades running in circles above their heads. Crane’s hair ruffled in the wind and he squinted his eyes against it. Her mouth fell open in shock and Crane chuckled at her reaction.

“That’s the funny thing about, trust, detective. I don’t believe in it,” he smirked and beckoned her to the helicopter’s doors.

“You planned this?” She yelled as he gestured her to climb onto the landing gear.

“Of course,” he smiled, "I always have a backup plan." Her mary janes slipped across the bars as she climbed and Crane supported her back, guiding her back into the body of the machine. He pulled himself inside after her and collapsed in one of the seats. She tried to orient herself, looking around the small helicopter, landing on the pilot. The pilot nodded at Crane, he was wearing a thick mask and goggles to keep the toxin away.

“Ready doctor?” The pilot called from the front and Crane nodded breathlessly. He looked at her and clenched his jaw, returning to the version of Crane she knew so well.

“Yes.”

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