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prone-to-fleeting-obsessions · 3 months ago

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Aventurine x Reader Reverse Isekai Prologue (I'll come up with a clever name later maybe)

(Sooo, it's been awhile, whoops— My class load has lightened significantly at this point, near the end ^^! So I thought I'd see if writing was still fun

Here the prologue to a little series I'm thinking of doing for Reverse Isekai Aventurine/Reader, roughly 3500 words :)). Gender neutral for the most part but I did use 'miss' like twice. Slight cussing, no other disclaimers. Reader is referenced as being a college student)

It was a video game, just a harmless video game...

Your current obsession and favorite past time. But still, just a video game. Something small to look forward to after a long exhausting day...

This was simply how it was, kicking off your shoes after arriving home to your less than nice apartment just outside of campus (only slightly nicer than the dorms offered on campus), stretching your sore shoulders, briefly thinking of what on Earth you're going to do for dinner so late when you opted not to go grocery shopping over the weekend (not your best moment, but, in your defense, it's crazy how quickly time flies when absorbed in that damn game), and, finally, falling on your familiar bed to indulge in your favorite mental escape.

What you didn't expect... Booting up the game to a black screen. Did you... miss an update...?

You huff slightly, shifting to get more comfortable in the nest of blankets as you go to your app store, only to find... nothing? No updates? No issues?

Your annoyance rises slightly, giving way to tangible frustration. 'Why now?' You lament, 'It was working fine last night...'

It was then, distracted, you spot something in of the corner of your eye... Movement? Or, more accurately, pulsing energy. Like a tear in space-time, rippling waves of transparent mass undulating, darkness. Then came the light...

You're temporarily blinded by white, hand going to cover your face on instincts, prioritizing the safety of your retinas, heart beating like a drum in your ear. And, when you can see again? When the black spots fade...?

A... person? No no... a man…? Your eyes adjust some more, shapes and colors become almost recognizable. Yes, definitely a man. A man on your floor looking just as dazed as you...

You pause, heart practically stopping. The man groaned slightly, bracing himself with his elbows to a semi-sitting position, rubbing his forehead softly like he'd hit it. The soft blonde of his bangs moving in turn. You didn't dare breathe.

He groaned again, softer, taking his hand away from his face, one eyes closed in a slight grimace, no doubt due to a forming headache... You’d pity him in any other situation. His gaze flickered around the room in a daze, taking in the surroundings.

Finally, his hazy eyes landed on you. Immediately he froze as well, breath catching, blinking dumbly a few times to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. Then, as if it had never happened, all traces of drowsiness were gone.

"..."

His eyes, god, his eyes... Bright purple and blue, striking, almost glowing really, now sharp as ever, raked over your figure, studying you intently. The silence was almost palpable, thick and malleable, utterly suffocating. He was still sitting on the ground, a look of sheer disbelief on his face.

"I... I'm sorry...?” He spoke first, the words coming out as almost a question, voice a little breathy. Was he supposed to be sorry? Where was he...? He was just- just... His head hurt as he tried to recall.

His voice. There was no mistaking it, that voice, those eyes, (that mildly gaudy fashion sense…)

You felt your heart stop completely.

Was this a hallucination? Were you dead?? Before you could answer either of those you found yourself speaking.

"You're... In my room." It wasn't a particularly smart observation, but an accurate one...

His eyes widened slightly at your words, seemingly not expecting you to actually speak, at least not so straightforward, as if you could have just been a very human-like mirage plaguing his vision. He blinked again, brows pinching together, gaze flickering down to the floor, his eyes narrowing, and- and it was like you could almost hear the gears turning in his head. He was piecing something together.

Acheron, the event horizon, death... Finally, after a few moments, he looked back to you, an uneasy smile finding his lips.

"I can see that..." His response sounded far more flippant than it should have, given the situation. A defense mechanism, probably.

You watch as he moves to stand, eyes unconsciously moving up and down his form. The outfit, the hair, the earring... You'd have to be blind not to see the uncanny resemblance. It was odd though, seeing him in 3d space instead of anime-styled pixels. Very attractive pixels, you'd attest, but that was neither here nor there.

He looked so... himself. The perfect skin and soft features, the almost model-like slender build, that brand on his neck and those dead eyes to match... Your breath kept being taken from you. Though, he seemed to think you were staring for an all together different reason.

Noticing the... 'appraisal', he stood up carefully, straightening his coat and shirt in a practiced, natural movement. His smile faded, his expression shifting towards a more unreadable one. He ran a hand through his soft blonde hair... God, it looked like it'd feel like silk if you touch it...

"You're staring. See something you like?" His voice had that slightly teasing edge to it, gaze narrowing, as if studying you as well, or maybe just your reaction to his words. He took a step towards you, arms crossing in front of his chest. He was trying to figure out if you knew him, or, more specifically, knew him as 'Aventurine of the IPC: Member of the 10 Stonehearts'... He must not quite realize his situation.

"I..." You clear your throat, eyes darting away from him to the side, the wall, the ceiling, anywhere... "How... did you get here...?"

Another stupid question. His deadpan stare was enough to make you mentally kick yourself. Of course he wouldn't know, obviously he wouldn’t know...

His stare was still fixed on you, observing, a frown on his face. His jaw set slightly; his gaze fluttered down to your throat where your heart hammered. He could clearly see how freaked out you were, you were doing a miserable job of hiding it. He was eyeing you with a touch of disbelief, as if you were the crazy one in the room.

"You think I know?" Despite the situation, the corner of his lips twitched, his voice not having lost its teasing edge by any means. He could read you like a book, and he knew he had the upper hand.

His gaze landed on the various pictures and trinkets around the room, scanning them before returning to you. This certainly didn't look like Penacony... God, where did that damn Emanator drop him. He was planning to have quiet the talk with her upon his return.

You could tell this wasn't going anywhere fast and decided to just drop the ball. It's not like he'd be content just standing there and staring at you indefinitely.

"Uh, ok... Well this is my apartment. And you're on... Earth." Your throat tightened slightly at the last word. Earth. Surely that wouldn't mean anything to him. You hoped that wouldn’t mean anything to him.

He paused, an eyebrow raising slightly at your words. His gaze moved to the window, peering outside... A strange, unfamiliar street greeted him... Definitely not Penacony. He took a step towards it, eyes narrowing before he turned back to you, the easy-going smile from earlier having returned, paired with the eyes making him look all together dangerous.

"Earth, huh?" He murmured, hands going to his pockets as he leaned against the wall, his gaze roaming over you again. Noting your uneasiness, he seemed to make a decision, something hidden behind his gaze.

"Alright... If you would ever so kindly point me in the direction of the nearest Interastral trading ground- port, whatever— I can certainly make it worth your while. Consider it a gift between new friends~?" His practiced easy-going smile on full display, voice as performative as ever.

You physically deflated slightly. Shit. Ok, think of something, anything—

"We actually don't have any Interastral trading ports open... right now..... The planet is on lockdown."

Well... It could have been a worse lie. As far as lies go, you felt you'd delivered that smooth enough. He paused once more, his brows furrowing again, lips pinching together in a frown.

"I'm sorry... Lockdown?" His tone was flat, something unidentifiable in his gaze, a mixture of annoyance, disbelief, confusion. He pushed himself off the wall, taking a few slow, calculated steps towards you. "Lockdown as in, what? No one is allowed to leave? No ships land or take off?"

You only nodded, not trusting your tongue to not betray you. When he didn't speak again you forced yourself.

"Uh, yeah. It's... It's a security check thing, Earth hasn't been a part of interstellar travel in... a long time. So, uh, everything’s kinda restricted right now.” You tried to not make it sound like a ramble. That would be believable, right? Surly it happened all the time...

His frown deepened, his mind turning. He believed you, that was a small positive at least. He closed his eyes, bringing a hand up to run through his hair again, sighing softly. He was already scheming, calculating every possibility... But something nagged at him, some part of his instincts prodded at him that something was off.

You... You seemed familiar, though he was certain he'd never met you before. But... A different thought crossed his mind.

"So... There aren’t any IPC personnel on this planet?"

The thought was almost lightening, in a way. You nodded your head to confirm.

"Nope. None. Most of the people here have never even seen anything about the IPC!" You thought it best to weave in as much truth as you could to the situation, as not to start contradicting yourself later.

"We haven't even integrated into the credit system yet—" You cut yourself off, realizing you effectively just told him he had no usable currency.

He paused, letting that information sink in... No IPC presence, no established credit exchange system, no access to space travel... In short, no money, no connections, no way to call for help...

His hand clenched slightly in his pocket, his gaze dropping to the floor. You... You were telling the truth, at least about that. His mind raced, he hated being without a plan, but he was smart, he could work with it. He'd gotten himself out of way worse situations, after all. He looked back up at you, a familiar charming smile on his face.

"Well... That's just my luck, isn't it?"

You almost let out a nervous laugh at the obvious joke before remembering that would be classified as suspicious.

"Right, uh..." You hesitated, were you really about to offer this? Though, it wasn't as if either of you really had a choice...

"If you don't have any other accommodation... You can... possibly, stay here."

He didn't expect the offer, a bit caught off guard by it, eyes widening a fraction. He raised an eyebrow again, studying your expression before his smile grew, a small laugh escaped him.

"You can't honestly be offering to let a random stranger stay in your..." he glanced around at the confined space, "apartment? Can you?" His tone was playful, teasing, but he was genuinely a little surprised. The person in front of him obviously wasn't comfortable with his presence, but you still offered him a place to stay? The thought was... strangely endearing, and fairly suspicious.

"You're not a stranger." You countered, a little defensive, "You're a high-ranking IPC executive. If anything, doing you a favor only works in my benefit—"

His smile turned more genuine at that, a light laugh escaping him. A semi-smirk spread across his face, eyes narrowing slyly.

"Ahhh... So it's like that, is it?" He took a slow deliberate step towards you, closing the distance until he was close enough to see every detail in your eyes, every twitch in your expressions. "You're trying to earn the favor of a 'high ranking executive of the IPC', then?" He was testing you, poking to see how far he could push you.

"So what?" You almost huffed, crossing your arms, playing it off as a logical decision. "I did say only if you didn't have other accommodations..."

His smile softened, tilting his head slightly to the side, blonde hair falling perfectly around his eyes. He was enjoying this little game you'd started. He watched you carefully, amused. He could see the slight tension in your shoulders, the way you tried to brush this all off as not a big deal.

"Oh, how noble of you. Letting a poor stranded executive use your spare bedroom..." He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a playful purr, the tone of someone who was totally unbothered by the situation.

"I actually don't have a spare bedroom—" You countered, making a slightly guilty face.

He tried to keep a straight face at that, he really did, but that last statement, the look you had on your face... He let out a small snort as he broke, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, his shoulders shaking slightly with restrained laughter. You could see his eyes crinkled at the edges, dancing with barely contained mirth as his voice wavered, struggling to remain teasing.

"Then... Just where would I even be staying...? Do I have to sleep on the couch, Miss Noble Host?"

You bit your lip, trying to think of an alternative without getting distracted by just how lovely his laugh was. "Well... I do have an extra room. Turned my old roommate’s room into a... 'study room' (storage room). I think I have an air mattress somewhere..."

He was clearly enjoying this.

"I see... So you're telling me that not only am I going to have to sleep on the floor, but, it'll be a squeaky, uncomfortable air mattress?"

His words were still playful at least, playing up that 'spoiled rich boy' persona he'd perfected. He'd long since figured out that he could get you to do practically anything with a bit of pestering and a little charm, even though he'd known you all of 10 minutes.

As expected, you cracked immediately. "Ugh, fine then, diva, I'll take the air mattress and you can have this room.” You huffed with an eyeroll, crossing your arms in fake annoyance. You still weren't entirely sure this wasn't a hallucination, but there were far worse things to be hallucinating... If a mental manifestation of your favorite character wanted your room, so be it.

He feigned a gasp, bringing a hand to his chest in exaggerated shock. "How sweet of you, to give up your own comfort just for little old me. How... charitable."

He stepped around you, moving towards your bed to collapse on it, showing very little hesitation. He bounced slightly, obviously enjoying himself, before leaning back, propping himself up by his elbows as he watched you, gaze playful.

"Well, Miss Host, if I'm to take your bed... I should at least know your name."

You paused at that, eyes widening slightly, realizing you hadn't actually given it to him. Whoops... His smile became a little more genuine at the expression, cute. It changed again as you gave him your name, a softness to it, his gaze took on a bit more curiosity.

He mumbled the syllables to himself, as if testing it, seeing how the name felt on his tongue, satisfied with the result. Pushing himself so that he was now sitting rather than lying, his gaze roamed over the room, taking everything in yet again, really soaking it in this time.

You felt a slight pang of insecurity. It's not like it was super messy, but it wasn't exactly 'company level' clean either. You were honestly just thankful you'd made your bed the day before.

He hummed again, this time as if he was deciding something. After a few moments, he spoke, his voice smooth, almost nonchalant.

"So, since I am a guest in your... humble abode, and I don't want to be accused of being a poor one, I want to know... Is there anything I can do for you in return for your 'hospitality'?"

You paused as if to think. Was there really anything he could offer? The chances of his card actually working were pretty low, what could you even ask for?

"Well... I don't know. Maybe just compensate me for whatever I spend on food or clothes when this is over." You replied with a shrug. Obviously you didn't have any expectation of that ever happening, but you wanted to at least let him think this would be an equal exchange.

He nodded at that with a slight hum. He knew what you were doing and appreciated it. He was also amused at your subtle way of making sure that he'd actually behave. He tilted his head to the side, thinking over your proposition for a few moments before answering.

"Hmm... Deal. You have my word that you'll receive your due compensation." It was said with an easy-going smile, but there was something in his gaze. He... He almost looked like he was studying you again. You were frankly tired of being studied like a particularly puzzling piece of art, fairly exhausted by this whole exchange, still questioning your sanity slightly, and getting rather tired physically too.

"Great, well... It's late, if you don't need anything I'll let you get settled?"

He gave a slight nod, seemingly recognizing the tired look on your face. He stretched his arms over his head, the motion causing the hem of his shirt to ride up slightly, showing a strip of his stomach. You instinctively looked away.

"Yeah... Yeah, I don't need anything. You can go... I'll probably crash soon too."

You jolted slightly at the realization he didn't actually have any alternative clothing.

"Hold on a minute." You mumbled, going to your closet, shifting through clothing. "I can offer you a T-shirt and sweatpants..." It was lucky he was so slender; your clothes might actually fit him...

You pulled out a simple slightly over-sized black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, true to your word. He let out a small snort, a smirk spreading over his face. The pants would probably be a bit short... He took the clothes from you anyway, running the fabric through his fingertips, taking in how soft they were. He looked at the shirt and sweatpants before looking at you, eyeing your frame, mentally comparing.

"You really are something of a philanthropist, huh? I think I can work with this. Thanks..." The 'thanks' almost sounded genuine, his eyes meeting yours. There was an odd expression on his face.

You didn't take the time to analysis it, giving a quick smile before ducking out, closing the door behind you, letting out a breath of relief when you were finally out of his line of sight. Looks like clothes shopping was in your immediate future, you hoped he wouldn't get personally offended by thrift stores... Now where on Earth was that air mattress...?

He watched you leave, amused and slightly endeared by your demeanor. You were notably still a bit nervous about having a strange guest in your house... But you were so obviously trying to push past it. How charming.

Once he heard you walk away he let out his own sigh, what a day... He'd need to take care of quite a few things soon, but for now... He'd play it safe. Keep up the polite house guest act.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt off swiftly and dropping it on the floor. The slacks followed suit, tossed in the same direction. The pants fit about as well as he expected, being a touch too short, but it was fine. The shirt actually fit pretty well, considering. He rolled his eyes slightly... it smelled like you, too. He shook his head, as if physically shaking away the thought. What an odd thing to notice...

Settling back against the pillows, his gaze roamed around the room again. It was sort of homey, very lived-in at least, and he found that he liked it. It was... comforting. And your scent was everywhere. It was subtle, and faint, but still present.

He closed his eyes, letting them rest for a moment. Was he seriously actually tired? That was new. Usually he only needed a few hours of sleep each night to function... Then again, he'd had a hell of a day...

He wondered briefly where exactly he'd wake up, his nice, fancy, completely depersonalized hotel room maybe? Or… He wondered if it'd be such a bad thing if it was right here…

#honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #x reader #reverse isekai #kinda forgot about this account ngl #I'm kind of planning for this to be more of a collection of drabbles/oneshots based on a general concept than a full fledged fic #anyway lmk if anyone actually wants to see more pls

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kimhargreeves · 2 years ago

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The Night Shift -Mike Schmidt x Reader (FNAF live action)

Summary: You and Mike have never gotten on the right foot, always bickering and never standing each other's presence. The day comes when both of you are interviewed for the same job and are forced to work together to see who will win the job as a security guard at a deadly pizzeria.

(A/N: The Fnaf movie is almost here! Anyone else ready to watch it this weekend?! Here's the Mike Schmidt x Reader I promised a while back. Hope it's okay but female reader is mentioned to be a bit of a goth/alternative type of girl. Also, things may change in the next part since I am writing this a few days before the movies release date. Let me know how I did and if you want part 2 once we've seen the movie)

I'd also like to tag these kind people who asked me to tag them once this was up, @riaqiax @ahsfan23 @lufvg

"Please come again and have a fantastic day!" I beam and smile as I watch the client I had attended begin to leave the store I was working at.

As soon as they are out of my sight I sigh deeply and frown looking at the direction they left. "I don't get paid enough for this crap." I tell no one.

The client has begun to ask many questions, wether the store finally had the item they had been asking for, or if the movies on the dvd sections were any good, if I had any recommendations for any.

After about half an hour of trying to convince the person to take something from the store, they had decided to leave with a few snacks and movies.

The store I have been working at happens to be a combination of many things, dvd rentals, clothes, snacks and a few figures for sale. At least it paid a bit better than the last job I had, it was a nice job with nice alternative music but the pay wasn't that good.

"(Y/N), you're on your break. Make sure to come back in 15." My coworker passed me when they returned from the restroom.

I nodded my head and left the store beginning to walk further into the mall where I have been working for a few months and began walking to the food area hoping to fill my stomach with some cheap food.

It was a calm Friday with only a few people or families circling around the building. Many kids running over to small area, an ice cream shop called 'Ice Cream Parties'.

I ordered my usual choice of food. Three sandwiches, fries and a taco. I reached my hand into the bag and began to eat minding my own business when I sat down by an empty area and I stopped chewing when I saw two men running past me.

Two security guards running fast and avoiding running into people. Immediately this caught my attention, so I began to follow the guards and quickened my pace when I heard a girl yelling for her dad.

I stayed behind from a crowd that formed near the mall's water fountain and I saw a figure, no, two in fact inside the water fountain, but one was beating the other and the worst thing was that it was one of the security guards.

"Daddy!"

People took out their flip phones and began to take a few pictures of what was happening, it quickly ended when the two men who had run past me earlier stepped into the water and pulled the poor man beneath the security guard away.

One of them began to deal with the man with a small girl running over to her beaten dad, and the other one roughly began to question the young man's actions and took him away inside an office room.

"Fuck." I muttered when I saw the man was dragged away.

I rolled my eyes and went back to my working place and spotted my coworker, "Hey, you think you can cover for me this time? Something very important and tragic happened."

My coworker nodded his head and as soon as he agreed I started running back outside the store and into the security room.

"Do you know how many paperworks we gotta do and how our establishments reputation will only decrease any more because of what you did?!" I heard the deep voice of a man question the young security guard.

"How many times are you going to give me a hard time, Mr Schmidt?"

"The man deserved it." He answered his boss.

His boss remained quiet probably just staring and him and not knowing exactly what to do. "So that's what you think? You're fired."

The man sighed but said nothing. "I'll have you sign a few paperwork before you leave and an investigation will be taken place right now. So this'll take some time to be resolved."

His boss has walked past me but said nothing assuming I was the guards family. I rolled to eyed and leaned my head forward and tilted it when I saw Mike crossing his arms.

"You're anger issues has only gotten worse." I say uninterested and notice Mike roll his eyes when he saw me.

"The fuck is you're problem?" He looked at me again and scoffed when he noticed my appearance.

Freshly dyed black hair and now with a single piercing over my eyebrow.

"You look like shit."

"I was about to say the same thing." I tell him not bothered by his words.

"Why are you so weird?" He scoffed again and looked away from me.

I poured pretending I was hurt. "Daddy issues. What can I say?" I chuckled darkly "You have anger issues, my guy. I have daddy issues. Tell me what's worse."

Mike remained silent when I mentioned him that. I looked around the onto sound coming from the clock on the wall.

"Why did you do it?" I ask him wanting to know his reason on attacking a man in front of his young daughter.

"And why should I tell you?" He remarked. "I don't owe you any favors because you got me this job weeks ago."

"I only did it for her and you know it." I defended myself and crossed my arms over my chest as well.

"Well I don't need anyone's help and that being less from you. I can take care of my own problem."

Mine has been struggling for a while now. Barely having enough money for himself, rent or raising his sister since she had no one left to look after her. The guy has his issues but it doesn't mean he had to be like this, he doesn't have a lot of money and the first thing he does is try to get himself fired… well he is definitely fired now.

Another thing I'd like to mention. Is that Mike and I have never gotten along, we've known each other for almost our entire lives and know what has happened to each other, but we've refused to get along. Not once had he been nice to me and never have I been nice to him.

We've both been through a lot of mess, similar to one another's, and instead of making us grow closer we simply grew further apart.

"Michael." I warn.

"(Y/N)." Michael says back now each of us looking at one another.

I try to remain calm and not start up another argument which always happens when we're together in a room.

Mike is the first to break eye contact and he sighs when he checks the clock again. It's nearly 2pm.

He mutters a few cursed words and looks down at lap. "Can you do me a favor and pick up Abbey from school?"

I lift an eyebrow looking at him. "Please? I know you don't own a car, so you can take mine."

Mike digs for his car keys inside from his pocket and holds them up for me. I smirk as I take them from him.

"Why trust me with your car? I can easily steal it from you and escape town."

"Because deep beneath all the bitchiness, black clothes and awful piercing. I know your a bit less tolerable when it comes to kids." Mike said glancing back at me and looking a bit too relaxed in this situation

I stared at the worn out paper sign in my hands. A second job wouldn't hurt…"Wanted security guard for night shift. Quickly I scribbled the number on my palm and crumbled the paper over and left it on the backseat.

I stepped out of car when I had parked it and recognized Mike's little sister. "(Y/N)?" She asked not expecting me at all.

Many months ago I had looked after her, now I only see her every once in a while, whenever she'd leave school early, Mike would have her stay at the mall until his shift would be over.

I came to see Abbey as a little sister as well especially since we saw each other growing up and Mike would take odd jobs at night leaving me to look after Abbey while she was still rather young.

"I'll be your escort for this ride. Hope that's fine with you, and hopefully you're teacher doesn't think I'm here to kidnap you." I tell her when I see her teacher looking at me weird.

Abbey waved her hand at the teacher making then sure she knew me.

"I'm late to my shift, so, let's hurry up shall we?" Abbey nods her head and got into the backseat when I got into the car again and turned it back on and starting driving back to the mall.

"It's been a while since we last saw each other. Thought you wouldn't remember me." I joked at the young girl while I glanced back and saw her looking outside the scenery as I drove by the familiar streets

"Of course I still remember you. My brother mentions you often." Abbey said getting my attention from her.

Didn't expect Mike to talk about me to his younger sister, Abbey.

"Oh? What does he say about me?"

"Says you're a bitch, weird and complains about his job or yours." I frowned and remained quiet. Of course why was I expecting nice from him.

"Those are his words, not mine. I actually enjoy spending time with you." Abbey said.

My expression softened when I heard Abbey says she enjoys my company. I smiled to myself and agreed with her, "I also enjoy spending time with you, Abbey."

Abbey hummed still looking outside the windows. "My brother got fired, didn't he?"

"…Yes, he did…"

Mike and I only exchanged a few words when I arrived back. He was fired, of course he was or he'd be in prison for what he did. He was probably going to celebrate later that he would no longer have to see my face at work. The guy has his problems but always finds time to argue of talk about me.

I feel for Abbey especially since she has no other female figure to talk about and have to stand and listen to her brother being annoying most of the time.

"Hey! You lose your brain there for a second?" Mike questioned which earned him a shove from his sister.

"(Y/N) thank you for picking me up from school and taking care of my dumb brother." Abbey said being the only polite and rational one out of the pair.

I smiled and patted her short hair. "Anytime Abbey. Maybe we can have a small girls night sometime." I suggest which made her smile a bit.

"You'll only end up corrupting her." Mike said playing with the car keys in his hands.

"Mike." Abbey said making him look down at her with his brown eyes.

He rolled his eyes and shrugged a bit. "Thanks for looking after my sister…well see you never." He said taking his sister's hand and beginning to leave.

How rude. If he weren't cute I definitely would've thrown him again into the water fountain..wait..what am I even saying?! Forget this, I've lost about half an hour of work time because of doing the guy a favor.

I huff to myself watching Mike and Abbey leave the mall for good. I turn around and headed to my work but the moment I arrived, I spotted Tom coworker and my boss looking at me with a face that said it all.

"You're fired."

"Let's hear a round of applause for the birthday girl!"

The lights changed and was now shining across the stage with cheery music playing as background while kids cheered when the pizzerias mascots made an appearance.

The pizzerias staff began to clap along when they began to sing 'happy birthday ' to me. My entire class was invited to my party.

My uncle was the one who invited them over since he knew I didn't have that too many friends, and he wanted me to get in with the right crowd. He knew that I was in a group of kids who would often bully others, I did it so I wouldn't be alone or be the one getting bullied.

I definitely chose the wrong crowd back then, all because I didn't want to be lonely…

My aunt and uncle raised me as their own since I could remember. They treated me like their own kid since they could never have any. They liked to throw these types of parties and invite everyone they knew.

Both of them were always fond and always liked to help financially to one of my classmates, that one being Mike Schmidt. He was kinda of a shy kid, and wasn't that fond at making an appearance at a birthday party without a present to give.

My uncle and aunt didn't mind that he didn't have the money, they still convinced the small kid to come and have a good time. Mike didn't want to leave his very little sister behind so my aunt would be carrying her everywhere.

I watched with glee as my favorite animatronic made his way towards me. I got up on my seat and smiled wide as I watched Bonnie come in with a colorful and big cake in his hands. One of the staff from the place approached and grabbed the cake placing in front of me, the cake seemed delicious with it's different colored candles.

I hugged onto my stuffed Bonnie plush as I wrapped one arm around the animatronic and felt one of its large paws patting my head.

I stared at the worn down building ahead of me as my hands were kept on my bike. 'Freddy's Pizzeria' read a sign just outside. The guy in charge must be inside or late to our meeting, as soon as they fired me from my job at the mall was when I decided to call this place up.

I'm a night owl after all so this'll be a piece of cake. All I gotta see is how much is the paycheck and I'll make sure to be the best security guard.

Maybe I'll be the only one around and have a nice time inside, remember those fond memories of the times I would come to this place and love following around the animatronics.

I knocked on the door a couple of more times waiting until someone would show up. The door slowly opened and I came face to face with an older looking man with large glasses.

"You're (Y/N) (L/N), correct?"

"Yes, sir. It's nice to finally meet you in person." I smiled trying to be as nice as I can.

"Pleasure is all mine…Please come inside." He said when he spotted the weather was beginning to change.

It was getting a bit chilly and the clouds were turning grey, about to rain a bit probably later. "You got here rather early."

"Yeah. The most important thing about a job is getting early." I chuckle beginning to follow the man not that far behind, but still remaining close to the entrance. "I do live a bit far from here but it's no trouble."

The man stopped and turned to face me. "You own a car?" He questioned and I knew I would be screwed if I said No.

"W-Well I don't..but I'm willing to come out here at any hour."

As soon as he was about to say something else, another knock was heard from the other side of the door. The man gave me a quick look and walked past me to open the door once again, I was surprised when I saw I wasn't the only one here.

Mike Schmidt had also applied for the job…

"No fucking way." Both Mike and I said looking at each other and wanting to strangle each other.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #five nights at freddy's movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf fanfic #blumhouse #horror #josh hutcherson

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skyeslittlecorner · 8 months ago

Text

Rough timeline of Hell

Tldr: devils are such grandpas.

Has anyone managed to write down the timeline in hell yet? Because for now I'm slowly catching up on what I wasn't there and I have to write everything down so I don't get lost. I've done some math before, trying to figure out how many years have passed since Solomon disappeared. I will quickly refresh this information a bit - Most things haven't changed, but I should mention that we now know that time in Hell and on Earth passes at different times and rates. So today a minute may pass, and tomorrow a year may pass.

For the sake of keeping some data, we'll stick with the average I calculated earlier, because I haven't found a better point of reference yet. So - one year in hell is 6.6 years on earth.

Quick proportions: 365*365/6.6 =~56 days

That would mean MC has been in hell for about two months.

Possible? I guess so. I don't remember MC's exact time in hell being given anywhere, but I haven't read 6Ch yet. Devils believe that for them practically no time has passed, but they are long-lived, there's no point in believing them. This is of course the time of the main storyline.

Now it's time for something worse. Two months is a piece of cake - now we'll be playing with years. Let's start with the order in which the kingdoms were formed.

Tartaros - Definitely the first, judging by little Mammon's event.

Hades - I'm betting on the latter, because when Satan formed Gehenna, Levi was already on the throne. We know this from both Sitri and Amy events.

Gehenna - After these two, I think the third one is Gehenna. When Satan found Sitri (which was during his takeover of Gehenna), the other kings also showed up and had their eyes on him. Mammon and Levi. Beel didn't show up then.

Avisos - Continuing, Beel may not have appeared because he didn't care, or because he wasn't king. I have no information on that. So I'd put him somewhere between Hades or not far after Gehenna.

Abaddon - no information. From Asmodeus himself and his behavior I would think he could have taken power quite early, but who the hell knows.

Niflheim - I haven't gotten to that event yet, but from what I've seen of people's mentions, no one really knows what to do with them. Rather leaning towards one of the younger countries. It makes sense that Belphi simply didn't feel like it lol

Paradise Lost - The last of the countries, what we know from Luci's event.

Why did I present this? So that we could have some first idea - because now comes the math. Again. Yay.

Sitri, Amy, and Levi allow us to roughly (very roughly) count how much time has passed since the founding of Gehenna to the arrival of the MC. Thanks to the fact that events overlap with the main plot. Long live backstories.

311 years passed from the moment Solomon disappeared until the appearance of MC.

Solomon lived in hell from 100 to 150 years.

Sitri spent almost 100 years in Hades studying.

Sitri and Amy met every five years at Gehenna meetings so regularly that they made a fandom. It's quite modern, post-Solomon times. We can assume about 50-100 years. That's not a problem for now, because…

…They have known each other for hundreds of years, which ranges from 200 to 999 years.

All these events create a timeline something something like this:

We need to assume something to be able to operate on numbers.

For minimum: 100+200+311-50 = 561

For maximum: 100+999+311-100 = 1310

So the average is: (561+1310)/2=935,5

This would mean that somewhere between 561 and 1310 years passed from the founding of Gehenna to the appearance of the MC. With probability leaning closer to 935 years, since we have nothing better than an average.

I think these assumptions are enough for now. Especially since we have no idea what the truth is. As you can see, there are a lot of maybes and ifs. But still, I think it's interesting to at least try to grasp how older our sexy boys are.

Of course if you have something to add, add it! I could be wrong on so many levels that I don't even know if it's worth posting this, but I had too much fun writing it (and maybe I'll learn something more from you!)

Aren't you tired yet? So, I have another funfact. It falls into the category of conspiracy theories are my passion. (They are as you see.)

From the moment Solomon appeared in hell to the moment MC appeared, approximately 461 years passed. If MC lived a similarly long life, that's a total of 611 years. In terms of Earth years, the entire cycle, from when Solomon appeared to when Solomon's descendant disappeared, would take about 4,000 Earth years. (611*6.6)

What's interesting about this, you ask?

Let me quote something: "The chronology [of the Bible] is highly schematic, marking out a world cycle of 4,000 years."

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chronology_of_the_Bible

That would be an interesting symbolism. Our ancestor started a cycle that began to change hell, and MC, his descendant, would end that cycle, giving hope for a new, better era.

#wbh #what in hell is bad #as always... it was NOT supposed to be this long #I honestly think it can be improved #but for now I'll settle for this until I get more information #whb hades #whb tartaros #whb gehenna #whb avisos #whb abaddon #whb paradise lost #whb niflheim

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road-kill-eater · 8 months ago

Note

The storybook tone of your last post is really great. I hope you do feel up to sharing more of your writing with us some day because I think it's genuinely wonderful, as is the artwork you've paired with it. If it were a book I could buy, I'd do so in a heartbeat ❤️

I have received this request before, so here, I've polished up this opening chapter somewhat. Keep in mind, it is still a very rough draft, and I write only as a nighttime hobby, and have only rarely shared any of my work, and it is very much amateur quality, but I am proud of it.

Boots sighed as he laid his arms upon the edge of the stone battlement, staring lazily out across the village that stretched beyond the castle. It was not his, and would never be his, what with his two older brothers and father still in good health. That, at least, was fortunate, for while he was a prince he had never once desired to rule anything, not even an anthill, and especially not his fathers kingdom.

It was early spring now, and the city was bustling just the same as the swallows that were building nests in the castle towers, and the bees that were scouring the meadows for the first clover and honeyberry. He watched as ox carts filtered in through the front gates, bearing grains and textiles and fruits and metals and wood and all manner of trading goods. At first it had been just a passing fancy, but now the thought of dipping into the crowd to live amongst them was increasingly attractive.

Surely there would be a lot to learn, the townspeople would scoff at his ignorance, and any work he found would be grueling and difficult compared to his rather leisurely life in the castle, but at least it would be different. He wouldn't have to always run when summoned, have his clothes and appearance constantly fretted over, nor have to worry over his fathers bitter approval and mothers jovial rejection.

Boots sighed and rested his chin upon his hands, they were but the thoughts of a fool. Then he suddenly felt the back of his shirt pulled up and forwards, yanking him along with it. He cried out as the great void yawned out below him, and his legs kicked out wildly in the empty air.

His brother laughed before pulling him back over the battlement and letting him drop onto the cold stone. He landed in a heap, his teeth clicking on his tongue and cheek smashing against the ground.

"Careful, brother, if you lose yourself you might fall." The tall man guffawed, slapped his friend on his shoulder.

Boots sniffed and sat up, bringing a shaky hand up to investigate his bloody lip. He was regrettably used to such disgrace, and past experience had taught him it was easier not to fight back at all, no matter how he wanted to. Often he wished to wring his brother's thick neck, though his own hands were hardly large enough to wrap around it.

"If you do then they'll feed you to the monster under the castle." His brother jeered, "I heard it likes prince's best."

"There's no monster." Boots grumbled, pulling out a pebble embedded in his lip, "You think I'm a fool."

His brother reached down to ruffle Boots' hair roughly, "You weren't even born when they brought it in but I saw it. All chained up and bigger than a bear, and just as hungry. It used to terrorize the countryside and eat the traders, carts and all."

"Why not just kill it then?" Boots stared at the ground.

"To let it loose on our enemies, should we ever be sieged." His brother proclaimed, "Try to use that little brain of yours."

Boots scowled as the two men went off, sure to leave chaos in their wake. Despite his resentment he still felt quite curious. It was not the first time he had heard of such a monster, but he had passed it off as a mere rumor, like a story told by his mother to keep him from misbehaving. But his brother hardly engaged in such fanciful thinking, and Boots knew there must be something locked away, even if it was just a kenneled lion, or perhaps a cockatrice.

After his near brush with a lethal plunge he was happy to descend the many staircases and get down to ground level. Here there was little that had ever attracted him, nothing but old cobblestone and stray cats yowling for their mates. He would much rather sit and practice his flute in the bailey, with its beautiful oak trees and small pasture, or take his horse out for a jaunt. But he was so curious he couldn't help himself and trod about the inner walls of the castle, even if he was half sure that his brother had been lying, and would surely hunt him down to berate him for being so gullible.

Boots paused when he realized he had passed right by an old grate, though it looked to be nothing special. The bars were rusty and worn with age, and thicker than he had ever seen, wider than his own forearm. He could not think as to why such a grate would be there, for the prison was well on the other side of the walls, so he crouched down and narrowed his eyes to peer into the dark.

"Hello?" He asked, raising his long ears up as far as he could. He repeated the greeting once, a little louder, then felt foolish and decided he must give up this venture altogether before he humiliated himself.

Just as he turned to leave, he heard the creak of metal on metal, then the unmistakable sound of chain links clashing as they rose.

He immediately dropped back down to his knees, hesitant to get too close. He had no clue of what manner of beast this could be, perhaps a great dragon that could spit fire upon him, or an eagle that could carry away a horse, or something he could hardly imagine. He supposed next time he should bring a torch to drop through the bars so he might catch a glimpse. But perhaps it was only another prisoner, simply kept apart from the others due to some exceedingly dangerous nature.

"My brother told me there was a terrible monster kept beneath the castle." He said, his tail curling around his leg nervously.

"That is I." Came a voice like a mountain breaking in twain, like the sea crashing upon rocky spires, like the rumble of a hundred heavy hooves shaking the earth.

Boots gaped, "Of w-what manner of creature are you?" He asked, his own voice sounding so very small in comparison.

"Lonesome." The voice replied, "All my own." And in it he could hear the things sorrow, that of utter despair and consignment to its miserable fate.

"Why were you locked up, lonesome thing?" Boots felt his tail twitch with excitement.

"I did terrible things, I was very cruel, it is in my nature," The voice mourned, "All I have to think on is my many misdeeds."

"I suppose that is fair." Boots shrugged, "Do they feed you down there?"

"Never enough. Only to keep me alive, but I am so much less now than before. I cannot even break my chains." The voice replied.

"Oh, I have some snacks." Boots pulled out a bundle of shortbread he had been munching on throughout the day.

"I do not deserve it." The monster rumbled, its cadence flat and monotone.

"A little treat cannot hurt. My brother said you've been locked here for years." Boots stuffed a piece in his mouth then gently tossed the sack through the bars.

"So long I have forgotten the sun, it never passes by this place. I am ever in the dark." The unknown creature continued, and he heard the sound of its chains rattling as it investigated the sack.

"I cannot believe you are real, I was sure my brother was just tricking me again." Boots said, and realized he was surprisingly elated by this discovery. Life within the castle walls could be so dreary and monotonous, but here was something unlike anything else, something almost no one knew about.

"I must go now, or I'll be missed at my lesson. But I'll come back another day." Boots stood back up and skipped away.

"Don't leave." Came the voice behind him, sounding so muffled and weak now.

Boots was so distracted during his lesson he was admonished for not paying attention, and so excited he could hardly sleep the whole night, nor wait for a chance the next day to steal away to the monster's window. This time he came with a load of shortbread cookies stuffed into his shirt, as well as a candle so he might catch a glimpse of it.

"Good evening." Boots greeted, not feeling half so hesitant as before. He was fairly sure now the monster couldn't hurt him from behind the bars.

In response he heard only the sound of chains being dragged along a stone floor.

"It looks like it might rain tonight, does it ever flood your cell?" Boots asked, sitting down next to the bars. Try as he might, it was just as dark as before, and he could see nothing of the beast.

"Sometimes." The ragged voice sighed, catching in its throat as if it was still getting used to speech once more.

"That's a shame. How much longer will you be kept?" Boots tilted his head, "My brother said that he saw you locked away when I was but a child."

"Forever." The dark voice spoke, "There can be no punishment terrible enough for what I have done. Here I shall stay until the sun burns out."

"Oh," Boots frowned, "Do you want some cookies?" He began pulling them from his shirt and stacking them between the iron bars.

He didn't get a response and twitched his tail impatiently, "Do you have a name?"

"It is long forgotten." The monster said, his voice a thick growl.

"Oh, well I'm Boots, the king is my father." He bent over to light the candle.

"I am hardly fit to entertain royalty." Said the monster.

"Ah, I am hardly such. I'm the youngest of three brothers, I'll only ever be a prince. Luckily." Boots shrugged.

He caught sight of a glimmer of something sharp rising from the darkness to snatch up a cookie from the ledge. The flicker of his candle illuminated it just enough so he could recognize it as the hooked tip of a beak. Then he heard horrible gnashing sounds as the monster ate.

"Might I see you? I am rarely allowed to venture from the castle. All day I have to learn about the practicalities of my station, and it's very boring. My brothers hunt salamanders and jaculus, while I am shuttered at home." Boots sighed wistfully, "I did see a sea serpent once when my brother took me fishing, though."

"First tell me of the serpent, princeling." The monster requested.

Boots leaned back against the cobblestone wall, "The weather turned sour, but we were hooked onto a great fish with a nose like a spear and fins like kites. When it breached it flew nearly as high as our mast. I had to strap my brother down so he didn't go overboard, and still it pulled our boat to and fro, so great was its strength it pulled us against the current, so waves broke over our bow."

"I have never been upon the sea." The monster said softly.

"It is a beast unto itself! Like being on the back of some great stallion, which rears and shakes and lashes its wild mane across ships. And when it takes off you can only ride it out and hang tight upon the lines. As we did as we battled this fish, until my brothers' arms shook and he begged me to take the line but I couldn't, it would have drawn me right into the brine, but at least then he could have blamed me for it all." Boots laughed, "And then the clouds parted, a shaft of light turned the sea to frothing amber, and I saw a great head spear up through the waves, the fish between its jaws. It was scaled with gold and green, and its body went on and on, piercing through wave after wave. Steam shot out from its nose and it coiled about and made to sink back down. Then I had to cut the line lest my brother's arms be torn off for his stubbornness, but he still hated me for it, he never even saw the serpent."

"Is such a fish so valuable to you? Don't the merchant carts I hear every morning deliver everything you could desire?" The monster asked.

"Yes, but they can't deliver renown or victory. That is what my brother seeks, he is always out hunting and dueling. Last week he brought back a cockatrice and had it mounted above the fireplace before our mother had it taken down and burned. He was so mad he started a terrible fight at a tavern that same night." Boots laughed lightly.

"I thought your sort did not fight amongst themselves." The monster growled, "Yet you say your brother may have drowned you in the sea to save face?"

"Well we usually don't kill each other, only duel until mercy is called for. But the northern streets are dangerous, I hear. The cooks were talking about a masked killer that jumps from roof to roof, and steals in through open windows to slit throats!" Boots thumped his tail upon the ground, "And you must know we have our enemies, the kingdom to the east is forever starting trouble, raiding villages on the border until we send our soldiers to make them run off. I would love to see such a battle."

"Once this land was very different from where we now sit. Another kingdom, another castle. I think you must have killed them all." The monster said.

"Oh," Boots grimaced, the thought made him a bit uncomfortable, "But that was long ago. And it is the way of things, is it not? But perhaps if I was king I would find a way to end all wars."

"It is the way of things!" The beast raised its voice and he suddenly heard the chains rattling as it were rising upwards, "There is nothing that lives without conquering another. No sapling grows tall without choking out its siblings, no stag grows fat without devouring insects with its leaves. Even the most pampered lapdog demands blood."

"We are hardly stags nor dogs." Boots puffed, "Have some more cookies, I'll have to leave soon for my own dinner."

He watched as the beak snatched up a few more morsels from the ledge, and he caught the glint of a long tooth, so sharp he could immediately imagine how easily it could hook into his flesh.

"I brought you a candle, perhaps some light would be nice?" He pushed the candleholder upon the ledge as well, though he really just wanted to catch sight of the monster.

"To see my own ruin?" The monster groaned, "I'd rather languish in the dark."

"Well, I should like to see you." Boots said, his voice trembling, "You said you are alone in the world."

"Then I shall see you too, princeling." The monster growled with a voice like a storm that brought down forests.

Huge talons clicked as they set upon the stone, wickedly sharp and curved like an eagles, each the length of his middle finger at least. Then a long face burst forth from the dark, its sharp angles illuminated by the flickering candle. It was like a vulture mated with a wolf, its tapered, crooked snout ridged with wrinkles and beset with jagged, irregular fangs. Its eyes were narrow and seemed alight with mirth, or scorn, or sheepishness. He couldn't tell for the monster had no pupil nor iris, only a solid band of gold between its eyelids, dull and lightless.

The monster looked down at him for a moment, then took in a great breath and snorted, the gush of warm air killing the candle instantly.

Boots came again in the evening, but this time it had taken many days before he dared to meet the monster once more. Its terrible visage had struck him with such fear that he had sworn the entire venture off as ridiculous and obscene. But he simply couldn't get the thought of it out of his head. Unlike so many, it had seemed invested in his conversation for its own sake, and he still had many questions to ask. So when the rest of the castle was merrymaking at a lavish ball he stole away through the long shadows, careful to make sure no one truly noticed him. He was just the youngest of three brothers after all, and neither the smartest nor the strongest, and the lack of expectations or much responsibility gave him a certain level of freedom, in truth his absence would be a blessing.

"Good evening." He announced, "I'm sorry it's been so long."

The chains rattled and grinded in response.

"Are you lonely? Or would you rather I leave?" Boots asked trepidatiously, aware that he could very easily inflict himself upon others without a care for their desires.

"My loneliness has worn a hole through my chest and now I am a hollow thing." The monster keened.

Boots felt his heart tugged by the words and huddled up next to the window, "Don't worry, I brought snacks again." He fished out the pastries from his shirt and set them on the ledge.

"Did you bring a candle? The night is very cold." The monster asked.

"I forgot. Next time I will bring you the biggest blanket I can find." Boots thumped his tail on the ground, "I came because I must ask you a question."

"Yes?"

"You said that there used to be another people who lived here. Are you so old as to remember them? Or did you learn of it?" He asked.

"I have long forgotten how old I am. A year to you might be a day to me, but within this cage an hour feels as eternity." The monster mourned, "I am old enough I have seen many of your kings rise and fall, each the same as the last."

"Oh, they didn't impress you?" Boots rested his cheek against the stone.

"Little does. Once I could topple houses and trees like toys, I could rip a horse in twain, I could eat a hundred kings, and a thousand princes." The monster thundered, it's usually monotone voice now crackling with passion.

"How were you ever caught, then?" Boots wondered.

"Your king sent an army of horsemen to find me. For every one I slew, two more came with arrows to pierce me through, until I laid upon a mound of corpses and breathed blood." The monster gnashed its teeth and shook its chains, "The arrows were little more than needles to me, but they were dipped in poison that made me ill. I was not used to such trickery, and I was too proud to flee."

"Such a sight that must have been!" Boots gasped, "Whatever did you do to deserve that?"

The monster lowered its great head against the bars, its hooked beak sticking out between them, "I was very bad. I devoured sheep and cattle, I stole whatever I had need for, and slayed any who would stop me. Farmers and hunters and woodsmen and soldiers alike fell beneath my claws."

The monster paused and a long, shuddering breath sloughed out through its bared teeth, "I did not need to do such things, it was a madness that had taken hold of me. Now the regret torments me, I have long meditated upon my crimes."

Boots wanted to reach his hand out and pat the twisted beak that rested upon the ledge, but soon thought better of it. The monster's misery seemed so deep and pitiful to him, but it had been so shy in simply revealing itself. To be touched would surely be a shock.

"I'm sorry, lonely beast." Boots whispered.

"I am gentled now." The monster sighed, "I only wish to lay in the sun once again, or drink from a clear stream, or feel the wind in my fur. If I stay here much longer I shall surely perish, never to hear birdsong again."

"Oh, I have something close." Boots said and pulled his flute from his knapsack. He knew the instrument so well it was easy for him to lay his fingers in their familiar places along its length, even despite the dim evening light. Then he began to play, at first the notes were uncertain and wandering as he worried he would embarrass himself, but he soon found his footing and grew more confident as he focused on the music. He played one song and then the next, transitioning between them with little stumbling.

"Much prettier than a simple bird." The monster drawled, its huge, gnarled hands now laid out between the bars. Boots could easily imagine such hands reaching out to wring his neck, and yet they also seemed so placid, as if the monster was just another feral horse to tame.

Boots played until the last light had faded from the sky, like a solemn lullaby for a beast. Then he rose to pick up his things.

"Don't leave." The monster pleaded.

"The servants will notice my absence, it isn't becoming for a prince to be skulking about after dark, and if I raise too much suspicion they might seek to follow me." Boots replied.

"I do not want to be alone anymore." The monster insisted.

"I'll return again soon, you'll see." Boots consoled, and leaned down to pat the monster on the tip of its sharp snout. It was rough and weathered, and hot to the touch, as if the beast had a fever.

"If I am ever freed I would like to take you to dance." The monster called, trying to continue their conversation and draw Boots into lingering.

"Maybe. Farewell." Boots said as he left, and felt such a heavy weight in his chest he could hardly hold it.

Boots didn't return to the monster for another week, though every night he thought of it, alone in the dark with nothing but its memories to keep it company. He tried to imagine living so miserably for so many long years and the very thought made his stomach churn. Surely it had suffered enough by now, and the thought occurred that he could entreat his father of its discharge, but he knew that would be in vain, and they would both be punished for his trouble.

When he did approach the beast's window again, he almost ran off before greeting it. His chest fluttered, his head swam, but he couldn't bring himself to step closer, nor could he turn away.

The monster must have heard his footfalls, for he saw its snout stick out from between the bars, its deep exhalations kicking up clouds of dust over the cobblestones.

"Are you there?" The monster called out, unable to see him past the obstructing stone walls.

"Yes." Boots sighed and slowly approached, feeling all the more flighty for the monster's eagerness.

Then the glinting golden eyes watched him closely, and now seemed to have their own faint light within them.

"What is the matter?" The monster demanded, running its beak up and down the bars.

"Oh, nothing." Boots sighed and pulled off the blanket he had worn as a shawl, "Here, I brought you this."

The long talons yanked the blanket through the bars, then the monster shuffled and in the evening glow Boots could see that it had affixed the quilt about its shoulders just as he had worn it, though it hardly fit.

"I look quite handsome now, yes?" The monster clacked its jaw and seemed to laugh, the sound coming out as a ragged rumble.

Boots smirked with mock amusement, though in truth he felt hollow. He had been unable to get these late meetings out of his mind, but now that he was here he felt conflicted. No one, let alone a prince, should never involve himself with such a creature, no matter how pitiable. And yet he returned, with gifts to win its favor and soothe its misery.

"Something is wrong, princething." The monster rumbled, "I am old enough to know."

He tugged on his long, velvety ear, "My brother was quite mean to me today, but that's not unusual."

"How so?"

Boots sat down with a sigh, pulling all manner of fruits and pastries from his shirt, "He likes to push me about, make me trip or tug on my tail, never anything cunning. But I daren't try to retaliate or he will hurt me badly."

"Bring him here one night, I could swallow him whole." The monster snarled, its expression far too serious to be jesting.

"You'd get a stomachache!" Boots placed the snacks upon the ledge, "Have these instead. And don't worry, I'll be alright, I have lived with it long enough."

"Such a tyrant he shall make one day." The monster grumbled between bites of apple turnover, "I expect he will have me executed before a cheering crowd."

"I won't let that happen." Boots huffed.

"How so?" The monster demanded, and Boots handed it back a pastry it accidentally knocked off the ledge.

"I'll figure that out when the time comes." Boots shrugged.

"I would rather you slay me now than make me stay here for untold years." It said, voice so low that Boots felt the vibrations resounding off his own ribs, "You must free me, or kill me."

Boots stiffened, he had known it would all culminate in this request. He could gift the monster all the fine luxuries in the world, but the only thing it truly desired was to be free of its prison. He couldn't blame it, having been locked up in complete and utter solitude. And Boots did wish for its freedom as well, and pitied it greatly.

"Please." The monster scraped its beak against the stone, "Please."

"What if I am caught? I don't even know where the key is." Boots said, staring at the ground.

"The last I saw, it was in your fathers coat pocket." The monster whispered, "The one with stoat fur about the trim."

"Then I will have to sneak into his room at night. I cannot do such a thing, what if I am caught?" The very thought made his chest tight with dread.

The monster seemed to shrink, if that was possible, and sunk back into the shadows. Its face was unreadable as ever, but Boots could sense how its mood had darkened.

"Maybe I will try. But I'll have to be smart about it." Boots said urgently, suddenly feeling as if he couldn't let it down.

"I promise to be good once I am free." The monster rumbled, "I will go far away, and never again hurt another."

"I believe you, and I should very much like to see your misery end." Boots replied, "But I am a sort of coward. This is why my brother hates me after all."

"In all these long years, you are the only one who has come to talk with me. You are the only one who could do this thing, and how perfect you are for the task." The monster leaned in towards him once more, "You are a prince, and permitted within your family's wing. And you are as small and light as a feather, and as cunning as a fox. And your reputation will cloak you, they will blame some unknown saboteur, but never you."

Boots forced himself to laugh lightly, "Perhaps I should consider a career change, then."

"What does your heart long for, sparrow? What empty maw yawns inside you? What has your lofty station and the long arm of your father failed to deliver? Set me free and I will grant it unto you." The monster whispered, as if its words were a spell.

Boots didn't answer, couldn't answer, shouldn't answer. The pathway of his life was preordained, the tracks already set long ago. He was meant to live out his life within castle walls, or upon carriages or cobblestone roads, and never should he stray without reprimand, for he was the youngest and the weakest, the one that must be protected and swaddled and derided until his legs crumbled out beneath him for want of use.

"What could a monster provide me?" Boots sighed, wrapping his tail about his midsection.

"I am not just the lowly thing before you who dwells in the darkness. Once I may as well have been a king myself, with nothing in the land to rival me. Do you wish for gold? I can bleed mountains. Do you want a woman? I will bewitch the prettiest maiden with stories of your gallant nature. Do you seek fame? I can find you tomes from dead kingdoms beyond recall, or make you a magic flute with notes that ring clearer than a meltwater surge." The monster insisted, its chains scraping as it shifted with excitement.

"I don't wish for any of that." Boots said wistfully.

"Then what, little thing?" The monster's snout strained between the bars.

"I am not even sure. If I were to wish to be as strong and confident as my brothers then I would be wishing to no longer be myself. If only my father could look upon me with anything but disappointment I might then be satisfied." Boots rested his chin upon his crossed arms.

The long, twisted jaws split apart, lips wrinkling to bare teeth as sharp as needles, "That is beyond me."

Boots stood up and wiped the dust off his pants, "I will think upon your request, but I cannot promise you anything."

Despite the monster's limited ability to emote in the traditional sense, Boots could sense the mournful longing that nearly burst from it as it stared at him. It gnawed and scratched at the bars, then sank back down into the dark.

Boots ran headlong towards the monster's dungeon, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. He fell to his knees before the iron bars and clutched at them, panting heavily, and his tail lashing wildly.

"Hello," He whimpered urgently, "Are you awake? Hello?"

At once heard the familiar jangling of the chains, the heavy body unfurling from its long rest and rising to his level. He felt a burst of hot breath wash over his face and flinched as a sharp beak poked him right on the nose, its massive fingers curling about the bars just shy of his own. Without thinking he grabbed the snout in his hands and hugged it to his chest, as if the caged creature could somehow protect him. The fur that grew from its lower jaw was rough and wiry, the ridges along its beak jagged and sharp, but to him it may as well have been the softest embrace.

"What is wrong, thrush?" The monster asked, and he could feel the rumble of its voice passing right into his flesh, melting him.

He tried to answer, but his voice crumbled into a sob, and he pressed his cheek against the monster's snout, the only comfort that could be afforded to him.

"I smell blood." The monster growled.

"My father," He gasped, "struck me."

It didn't reply to that, for nothing could be said of the matter. It was already done, the accusations long shouted, the disgrace already seared into him. Boots cried until his face was red and puffy, his body trembling like a newborn fawn, and he was able to slowly reign in the cadence of his breaths.

"They want to send me off to be married. I have never even seen them. Whatever shall I do?" Boots whispered, the pitch of his voice spiraling like a worm caught in a robin's beak.

"I like to eat my troubles." The monster said softly, its snout extended as far as the bars permitted. Boots could see the faint outline of the rest of its head, its hairy, arched ears and two horns that grew outwards from its narrow forehead. One was broken and shattered at the base, the other tall but withered and misshapen.

"What happened to your horn?" Boots asked, and with a shaky hand he reached out and touched the broken stump. It was knobbly and bony, like that of an antler that had grown wrong.

"I broke it upon a dragon's scales when I was young. You cannot pierce a dragon's hide, I learned, but whatever is put in their jaws they will swallow without hesitation. So I filled its belly with stones until it choked." The monster recounted.

"Clever." Boots sniffed and laid his arm upon the monster's skull, his fingers splayed as he petted the rough, wiry fur. He pressed his chest over its face, resting half of his weight upon it, the motion coming far too easily to him.

"There is no such victory to be had for me." Boots lamented, tears flooding his eyes once more.

"Then you must flee." The monster urged, "As I should have when I was poisoned. Not all cages are iron and stone."

"I'm sorry lonesome thing, I think you're my only friend in the world." Boots said, breathing deeply to try and master himself. The monster smelled musky and harsh, like the stuffed bears in his fathers hall, their snarls far fiercer than any they had sported in life. He also smelled the layers of dirt and dust upon the fur, the neglect of many years like a moth eaten sweater tucked under a bed, to be forgotten until it was unrecognizable.

"Come away with me." The monster purred, grasping Boots' hand between its own and utterly engulfing his, "Let us both be free."

"Perhaps I should." Boots shuddered, "But to leave my entire life behind?"

"I have a cottage in the woods far from here. There you might make music until your heart is full." The monster soothed, "There you will never be found, and I will protect you from all harms."

Boots curled his tail about himself, and was loath to think of the moment when he must detach himself from the warm thing in his grasp and return to his cold bed. He had not thought he had grown so fond of the creature, but the prospect of running away with it did not daunt him so much as he had expected. In fact his chest fluttered with tremulous excitement, but also fear and sharp anxiety.

"Tonight I will fetch the key." Boots whispered.

He woke to the cold stone beneath him, and then great beasts snout resting upon his chest. It nuzzled him gently, long snaggleteeth tugging at his shirt until he was roused.

"The moon is high, time to go." The monster crooned, nudging Boots even as he curled up and hugged the snout even tighter.

"Maybe I should wait until tomorrow night, I'm so tired." He groaned.

"You must go now, or you shall put it off forever." The beast spoke into his flesh, then poked him in the stomach with its beak.

"Alright, alright." Boots sighed and the monster used its jaws to help him to his feet, tugging the back of his shirt like a cat carrying her kitten.

"Be as quiet as a mouse and swift as a fox." The monster hissed, "Then I shall be in your debt forever."

"There are no debts." Boots patted the monster's nose then stepped back, his fingers lingering upon its curled and creased beak. It was a rather ugly thing, all sharp angles and wrinkles and teeth and ragged fur, but at the right angle it also had a strange magnificence about it, like an old proud lion with a face full of scars.

He made to leave before he lost his courage, and marched back into the keep. At such a late hour it was entirely empty and quiet, like seeing the world standing on its own head. He crept down the halls like a ghost, entered his own room to pack a small bundle of his own belongings, then headed for his parents room.

He trembled at the door, his entire body crackling with electricity, his hair standing on end, his tail twisted about his leg like a viper. He wanted to run away, to bury himself in his own bed and sleep this all away, then maybe never visit the monster again for his shame. But then he thought of it wasting away, its last hope failed, the bitterness of betrayal making its bondage all the worse. He couldn't fail it now, not after he had made a promise. And not when the spectre of an arranged marriage loomed before him. All that he was would be undone.

He held his breath as he twisted the doorknob, cringing at every slight creak of the metal hinges as he swung the door open. Then he padded inside on bare feet, feeling the warmth of their dying fireplace and their sleeping breath, and to his relief his father continued to snore fitfully, the ragged sound drowning out his own light murmurs.

It was so dark he could all but feel the shadows resisting him like a warm fog, and he walked blind with his hands outstretched, until he was able to navigate by touch. Their ornate dresser, the paintings on the wall, and then the tall metal hanger from which his fathers impressive coat hung. As he searched for the pocket the hanger scraped along the floor and he froze, his own heartbeat booming in his ears, his blood cold as ice, his body stiff as a statue. The snoring paused momentarily, and then resumed with great volume, until he heard his mother rouse and bid his father to roll over.

Boots was rooted to the spot for a great age as he waited for them to fall back into a deep sleep, not daring to budge an inch. His feet fell asleep and his arms ached, but he refused to move and risk being caught in such a terrible circumstance. Eventually he relaxed somewhat, sure that by now they were both asleep once more, and slowly lowered his hand into the inside pocket lined with silk.

The key was smaller than he had expected, silver and inconspicuous, and he suddenly doubted it could be the right one. He wasn't about to go about searching for another, though, and stuffed it into his own pocket before shuffling backwards, tiptoeing as lightly as he could. Then he finally exited the room, gently closed the door, and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Then he rushed back through the halls, flew down the stairs, dodged the sleepy guard, and ran through the courtyard and towards the edge of the castle walls where the monster kept its long vigil.

He realized now it might be the last time he would see these stone walls in some time. He was sure he would not be gone forever, only long enough to be sorely missed, for the betrothal to be abandoned, for his family to perhaps come to appreciate some quality of his in his absence. Though he could hardly count upon the latter.

Boots crouched before the iron bars, "I have done it, look!" He grinned and twirled the key about his finger, then caught it in his palm.

"Such a shadow, you are." The monster rumbled, and then its snout suddenly struck between the bars, snapping up the key so quickly Boots could not have dodged it.

"You'll take me with you, right? You promised." Boots called into the dark as he heard the mad thrashing of chains. His chest felt tight, his thoughts raced, and for the first time a gnawing doubt began to rear its head.

He ran again through the courtyard, taking the passage that led beneath the wall, then popped out the other side. Here the night wind was chill, and rats darted out from beneath his steps. He hurried towards the huge entrance to the cage, then skidded to a frightful halt. A sharp cry broke into the night, and was cut off prematurely.

The dark, hulking form of the monster held a guard beneath its foot. Though the man in chain mail and padding writhed and struggled, he couldn't hope to free himself from the great weight that crushed down on him. Boots thought the guard barked at him to run, or it was only the remainder of his breath being driven between his teeth before ribs crunched.

He was so shocked he couldn't speak nor move, though he should be crying aloud for the monster to stop, should retreat and sound the alarm. Instead he could only stare at the wicked thing before him, all vestiges of its gentleness and promises of absolution long gone.

From head to toe the monster was crowned with wiry, coarse fur, darkening about its belly and back. A long, three forked tail lashed to and fro, beset with rows of spikes that traveled their length, and then all the way up its broad back.

After ripping off its shackles and licking the patches of angry red flesh about its wrists, the monster leaned back and sighed, stretching its limbs and cracking old joint after joint. It seemed to marvel at the freedom of movement afforded to it, and shook itself gladly, sending up a cloud of dust and shed fur and fluttering moths.

Boots coughed, then shrank back as the monster whipped around and stalked forwards to loom over him. He recognized in it none of the sympathy and sorrow from before, and while it should be thankful, its eyes were alight with a cruel kind of glee. He could see now just how formidable this monster was, why it had been such a threat that a host of knights were risked to capture it. Though it was as tall as two men, its frame was filled out with solid muscles that rippled beneath its dark fur like a prowling wildcat. Its arms were as thick as tree trunks, its chest as wide as a barge, and each finger and toe was set with claws as long and sharp daggers.

"Come away with me now." The monster purred, its narrow head set upon a powerful, sinuous neck arching down to peer right at him. Its hands reached out and Boots suddenly came alive again, dashing behind a stone pillar to put some barrier between them.

"You killed him!" Boots cried and held his face in his hands. For all the waxing and moaning the monster had done for its own misdeeds, all the talk of regret and of bettering itself, it had wasted no time in shattering the facade.

"He sat fat and happy while I languished." The monster lashed its tail, the spikes scraping furrows in the stone flooring, "And if he could have, he should have slayed me, should have made me rot for a hundred more years." Its lips curled, baring its evil rows of sharp teeth.

"Liar." Boots wept, "You could have only held him down, could have locked him in behind you."

"He does not matter." The monster scowled, "Now come, we must be quick."

Boots fell to his knees, knowing he couldn't run from the monster should it seek to restrain him. The enormity of its betrayal shattered him. When the beast approached him once more he buried his face in his hands.

The beast snarled in frustration and spun around to stalk into the dark like a lonesome tiger. Boots watched as it disappeared, and felt such a sharp pain in his heart he had to feel himself to make sure he hadn't been wounded.

He heard screams arise into the night, alarm bells rang, their clamor making his head ache. Soon enough a squad of guards arrived to investigate the scene and tend to their fallen comrade. Boots fell into the rising crowd, becoming as nameless and inconspicuous as all the rest in his common night clothes. As soon as his father arrived he took his leave, and found himself running up to a battlement on the wall to peer down.

A fire had broken out in the city, and he could make out the small specks of people fleeing their homes and filtering through the streets, confused and panicked and terrified. Huge plumes of smoke billowed into the sky, and he wondered if he was breathing in charred bone and flesh with the smell of it. He felt like a dead thing himself, a corpse brought up to stand like a marionette.

#boots & hawthorn #-runs away very fast-#also thank you kind anon <3

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faislittlewhiteraven · 1 year ago

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Undertale/ISAT crossover thoughts

Don't really want to write one myself (already got enough fics I'm failing to write XD) but ever since I finished In Stars and Time I've been thinking how I'd write a crossover between these two amazing games and I figured I'd share my notes in case anyone needs a bit of help/motivation in writing their own~ =D

Warning: These will mostly be in 'order of thought' as it's all barebones stuff. Also contains FULL spoilers for both Undertale and In Stars and Time so er, if you're still looking to play those/still getting through them don't read this and please play this incredible games.

Mt Ebott is located on The Island and the shattering of the Barrier brings the ability to see color back to all those on the (ISAT) surface.

Humans losing the ability to see color in ISAT was due to them/the 'wish wizards' of The Island sacrificing it (along side their seven strongest 'colour casters') in a Wish Craft ritual, naturally leading to humanity losing most of their 'colour magic' knowledge.

Undertale's 'sepia flashbacks' were all Chara's memories of how the world looked to them, BUT once in the Underground they were able to see (and remember things on the Surface) in color (hence the whole 'golden flowers' bit; it was still mostly just a cover story but Chara genuinely wished that they could see their favorite flower field as the 'gold' they realized it was rather than the 'mid tones' they saw it as on the Surface).

...The 'erasure' of the Island I'm thinking might've been accidentally poor Chara and Asriel's fault: with Chara's 'ritual' killing of themselves via buttercup taking three days to happen, Chara being from the Island insisting Asriel always give them flowers in groups of three, seven and thirteen, and an entire Underground filled with tons and tons of 'trapped' wishes from monster kind for their freedom combining with Chara's self loathing/desire to hurt those who hurt them trapping them in a loop that Just. Wouldn't. End. until Chara eventually snapped and pulled a 'May these people, this Island, EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE WHO'D EVER HURT THE MONSTERS I LOVE including me BE ERASED UNTIL THE MONSTERS ARE FREE!' and um. Welp. There went an entire nation... (also Flowey eventually remembered some of this but only after going back to being Flowey post Asriel and probably it took a while for him to sort through all that).

Which er, means in this fic, that the people of The Island and the Island itself are still 100% there but they've all spent roughly 8 years or so all blitzed out of their minds: Need to think of Chara's exact wish wording so its not just 'corpses everywhere' but very good odds the people on the Island were either running on full automatic for years or able to remember some stuff but only if they very very carefully did not think of themselves as their own countrymen/used the languages of elsewhere/were careful not to think of where they were as any actual location within their country...

...Which naturally would effect the kids by far the most as their very language is basically a brown note (bilingual types could at least swap over to a different language but likely most of The Island was rendered silent) and well, pretty hard to remember Mt Ebbot is the mountain that must not be climbed when you can't think of the locations around you by name and the adults may or may not remember the kids exist half the time so... Yeah. Cue a lot of kids climbing up the mountain due to both lack of warnings and increased chances of feeling ignored/isolated/hurt.

Aka why in Undertale we can never hear/read anything Frisk says, why the monsters outside of Flowey/Asriel never refer to Chara by name and why no one remembers Frisk's name until after the Barrier shatters: Chara's 'Wish' couldn't be broken until then.

Not sure where all the anime and high tech that's washing into the Underground is coming from but either The Island used to be a massive tech hub prior to memory erasure, a LOT of tech was lost along with the loss of color or The Island's memory erasure in the ISAT world color magitech? maybe the wizards tried to seal away more than just monsters?, or IDK maybe the Underground barrier techincally had them displaced outside of Space and Time a bit and the garbage that was washing in was from literally everywhere thanks to the Universe wanting to help them or something (side note: realizing the memory erasure from Chara may have accidentally snipped Universe worship from the monsters as well since they clearly venerate the stars also but well. That longing for the stars DID cause them pain so..).

Imagining that Siffrin and party are in Bambouche meeting Bonnie's sister (or idk, having a vacation or reunion there if you wanna give Siff a bit more recovery/'explaining his issues to his family' time) when the Barrier is broken and all the colors come rushing back. Best first sunset ever (right before the entire Surface world kinda flips out over color, and to a lesser extent those familiar with The Island start remembering more and more details as the 'curse' weakens a little with every monster leaving Mt Ebbot) followed up by Siffren and the others absolutely losing their minds over how beautiful the stars are with just a tiny bit of color to them (the stars no longer being passively pushed out of people's awareness helps).

Anyway next day the party realize they have to investigate: Partly because Siff is well, kind of losing their mind over being able to see and remember home a little, but also because W.T.F and the Island is clearly the epicenter of everything going on. ...Also Siff may remember childhood stories about colors being locked away to serve as warning for if the Monsters returned so um. That's could be a thing.

Meanwhile the Monsters are getting a MUCH warmer reception from the local humans than they ever could've imagined (accidentally saving a nation from enforced amnesia kinda does that) and are also very confused as to why no one knows who they should get in contact with for formal alliance stuff (not sure if The Island has much of a government left at this point honestly...)

Would Flowey and the ghosty Chara acompanying Frisk count as Sadnesses???

... And er, that's all I got plot/setup wise. Most of my brain energy had been spent on imagining what soul colors all the ISAT cast have and also 'What Pokemon would they all be if they ended up in a Pokemon Mystery Dungeon game?' so have a list with my reasoning on that front! =D

Siffrin: Blue/Integrity - Might seem like an odd choice given his constant lying/acting but like. Given all of the memory erasure and the torture of the loops Siffrin's absolute refusal to compromise his family's happiness/safety or use the loops for literally anything not 'helping family/ending the loops' based (even when he's basically losing his mind and could really use just... Taking a loop or three to goof off or something) just screams how devoted he is to what he believes in and well, the amount he lies syncs up well with how insane he's going so yeah. Siffren is an Integrity soul who's having a really really hard time being true to himself due to all the wobbie breaking he's gone through all his life. Specifically I like to picture his soul as a very dark, deep black/blue with little pinpricks of other colored light (mostly green, red and yellow), like a tiny heart shaped starry night's sky <3 (And er, bet that soul went very 'red/bleeding sky' as he was losing it in Act 5; Determination isn't his color by nature but they were not well at that point at all).

Isabeau: Cyan/Patience - Isa is super kind and all sorts of things but what really sets him apart is just how patient he is about everything (in ways both good and bad). I like to imagine his soul looking like a blue daytime sky, maybe with the odd white cloud and yellow 'sun' dot: partly because it fits him but also partly to cutely contrast Siffrin's. *cue me humming Like Morning Follows Night from the RWBY OST because I mean. It kinda fits honestly

Mirabelle: Orange/Bravery and/or Yellow/Justice - Again another 'you might not think so' but like. Mirabelle is hella gutsy despite her anxiety and I admire her so so much (also JUSTICE BARRIER REFLECT AGAINST THE KING YAAAAGH! XD) Not super attached to it as Isa and Siff's but the orange/yellow glow of a sunset (maybe with some pink/purple along the edges to show her Perseverance <3).

Odiel: Green/Kindness - She's hella awkward about how much she cares and not the greatest at reading situations/reacting gently but like. Her sheer affection towards the others, her always watching and coming out with the bandages and how she point blank tells Siff 'nope, not angry at you nearly blowing up the world. Also you trying to do that because you love us is cute' means I can't really see her any other way~ Not sure if her soul would be dark green (for more Integrity) or more light green (for more Justice) but all in all, very very green, like light/dark speckled leaves <3

Bonnie: Purple/Perseverance - This kid endures so much so well I swear (they're also really brave so a little orange would work well too but despite everything I don't think bravery is their main characteristic). I like to think of their soul as very 'purple evening clouds with bits of brave orange gold/setting sun on the edges'.

And Loop has a White boss monster soul for reasons; thinking that in this crossover that Monsters believe that they were born from the Universe's compassion (with The Islander's myths claiming they're the result of failed/'cursed' wishes like the 'brother who can understand my suffering Wish Craft' fairytale Siff finds in the Orary room) and both Monsters and the Islanders believing Sadnesses are born from forcing a wish of cruelty/sorrow that goes against the will of the Universe (cue Chara and Flowey who probably were Sadnesses in this until the breaking of the Barrier grumbling that yeah that sounds about right and The King from ISAT proving to even more aaagh than he already was).

And yeah. I'm out of babble thoughts now so hope that this was interesting for you all and please feel free to yoink any ideas that snag your interest <3

#fais fanfic rambles #Undertale #In Stars and Time #fanfic #fanfiction #crossover #crossover fanart #ut #ISAT #undertale spoilers #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #I love Chara (narraChara FTW) but like ISAT's setup is perfect for innocent child's wish to get turned into country ending nightmare fuel #just imagining how the people of ISAT react to the world suddenly being ALL THE COLORS is far too fun to imagine honestly #budding fashion designer Isabeau is both more excited and stressed than he's ever been in his life (well discounting Siff stuff anyway XD)#Siffrin is... Probably having a time of it remembering so much #On the bright side possible little sibling figure/'looper's understanding' with Frisk?#Most of this is just world building rather than any kind of plot or character interactions honestly #Where DID the anime come from???#First night post color return was probably a world wide Event though for both humans and monsters #Siff probably in tears stargazing and REMEMBERING that night #fanfiction ramble #fanfic notes #undertale fanfiction #ISAT fanfic #In Stars and Time fanfiction #there its out of my head #may other find it useful for their own fanfic ideas

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null-and-vo1d · 7 months ago

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as promised, the omegaverse worldbuilding!! i write a fair amount of omegaverse, but i don't think i've ever really explained how i personally think of it working? so i figured i'd write a post up. i'll edit all my omegaverse fics to have a link to this in the notes. also, if u like any of this and wanna use it in your own fics, feel free!! i'd appreciate a shout-out if u do but also u don't have to.

so first off, alphas/betas/omegas all occur in roughly equal proportions across the entire population. alphas and omegas, especially, tend to stay balanced with each other, but areas can have higher or lower numbers of betas compared to them. high-beta areas can be exclusionary to alphas/omegas (feel like they're too instinctive, heats/ruts are inconvenient, etc), while low beta areas can be exclusionary to betas (they can never really understand how the bond between omegas and alphas works).

general biology!! alphas go into rut, omegas go into heat. betas don't have to deal with any of that. generally people present around the age of 14-15, though younger/older is possible, just rare. alphas get their first rut, omegas get their first heat, and betas just get increased sensitivity to scent (more on that later). there are designated centers to help unpartnered alphas/omegas through ruts/heats, which includes when presenting. there's a pre-heat/rut phase that gives enough warning time to get to a facility if you need one. basically everyone gets on suppressants after initially presenting, which takes frequency of heats/ruts down from once a month to once a year.

alphas also have access to an alpha Voice. an omega will find it harder to resist an order given with an alpha's Voice, though not by too much. omegas can purr both on command and instinctively, both of which work to calm an alpha down, though again, it's fairly easy to ignore the influence. the effect of these increases if the pair is bonded. more on that later. betas aren't affected by Voices or purrs.

alphas are biologically wired to be more dominant/aggressive, while omegas are wired to be more submissive/passive. this is because biological determinism is fun when i can play with it in a kinky little playground :3. because of this, alpha/alpha and omega/omega relationships often have a natural give-and-take, where the dynamics between them shift frequently. that factor is part of the appeal of the relationship for folks who are interested in the same dynamic.

alpha!akira, on the other hand, is a fucked up lil weirdo bc i like to make him suffer :D. he's an alpha who likes submitting, and based on the universe and how i want to write them, is something that's either known but very uncommon, or completely unheard of. you can be transdynamic (in which case, similar stuff as exists for transgender folk in our universe exists), but akira is an alpha, just a submissive one. he doesn't want to be an omega, he wants to be an alpha who gets fucked by his boyfriend :3.

bitching (turning from an alpha into an omega without medical intervention) is generally not a thing in my universes. when it is, an alpha submitting to another alpha they're compatible slowly turns them into an omega. the more compatible they are and the more submissive the bitched alpha is, the faster the process goes.

…oooh you know what would be fun is a fic with omega akechi and alpha akira, but both bitching and…a reverse of bitching where omegas turn into alphas exist, so they switch dynamics. hm. i'll chuck that onto my ideas list. anyways back to bitching. before going into heat, the process isn't permanent. generally the bitched alpha no longer submitting to the other will stop/reverse it, but if they're compatible enough, it might still continue. physical separation is your best bet. alpha/alpha relationships in universes where this exist typically don't have to worry about this, since the dynamic switches frequently and even the submissive party is usually at least trying to fight back, or is only giving in grudgingly.

alpha afab folks aren't able to impregnate ppl, and amab omegas aren't able to get pregnant (unless it's a magic universe, but then literally anyone could impregnate/get pregnant bc of body-altering magic), bc they don't have the parts for that. for a while ppl thought alpha afab folks couldn't get pregnant and omega amab folks couldn't impregnate ppl, but that's actually not true! the issue with alpha afab folks getting pregnant is that their rut (or the suppressants they take to prevent it) also interfere with the hormone cycle that causes ovulation. for omega amab folks, being an omega interferes with their sperm, and means that the sperm don't move quick enough or live long enough to actually fertilize an egg. since afab alphas still have eggs, and amab omegas have sperm, though, even an afab alpha/amab omega couple could have a bio kid with ivf and surrogacy.

scents!!! everyone has a base scent, usually at least somewhat similar to their parents' but not always. when presenting, you develop the ability to smell emotions, not just someone's base scent, and start emitting emotion-based scent as well.

scents blockers can come in a few different formats. there are disposable patches—good for if you want to put them on or take them off quickly, and don't need them to last more than a day. they're what's most commonly used. there are also scent blocking clothes, most commonly scarves. these need to be retreated with the scent blocking chemicals after a period of time. finally, there's blocking gels, which can be used if you need to wear blockers for a while, patches are unpleasant sensory-wise, or if you want your neck bare but still have your scent blocked. gel is common in intimate scenes in tv/movies for that last reason!! scent blockers only need to be applied to the neck. there are scent glands in the wrists as well, but those only give off your base scent, not any emotional ones. blockers also only block emotional scents, not your base scent.

there are multiple situations where scent blockers are required. one is in school after presenting. this is partly to avoid overwhelming newly-presented teens and partly bc god, can u imagine going through high school and everyone around u can smell ur fucking emotions? nightmare material.

similarly, people working in customer service jobs almost always wear scent blockers, bc again, imagine working customer service, someone smells you're annoyed, and starts getting on your case about it. very high-end restaurants/shops actually require their employees not wear scent blockers, since it's a sort of bragging point that their employees are so well-trained/paid that they don't need them. there are pools/bathhouses which require scent blockers as well, since water can amplify smells.

since tvs can't transmit scent, folks on like, talk shows or interviews will usually wear scent blockers so they aren't responding to cues that the audience can't detect. it's less of an issue with tv/movies, since actors are used to communicating scent cues visually if the characters aren't wearing blockers. plus, scent blockers in general are often worn in professional environments.

finally, a degree of scent control is possible if you focus, though strong emotions can still slip through.

bonds!! there are two bonding glands, one on each side of the neck. betas don't have them. there has to be at least one bite to bond. bonds only go through if both partners want it. that said, heat/rut, drugs, alcohol, that sort of thing can all alter someone's willingness to consent to a bond, but don't stop the bond from actually going through.

there are five different kinds: single unreciprocated, single reciprocated, single-double, double unreciprocated, and double reciprocated. typically, only alpha/omega pairs can bond—if two people of the same dynamic try to bond, there's a hormone clash and the bond doesn't go through. however, this only applies to reciprocal bonds!! two alphas or two omegas can bond with a single or double unreciprocated bond. that said, since unreciprocated bonds have an inherent power dynamic, it still doesn't usually take since, as mentioned, both partners have to want the bond to go through. the vast majority of alphas aren't willing to accept a bond where they're always the submissive party, and the vast majority of omegas aren't willing to accept one where they're always dominant.

most common is single reciprocated: A bites B once, and B bites A once. the levels of bonding hormones are lower and balanced, since only one bonding gland is pierced and its reciprocated, so the two partners don't have to be very compatible. both partners can send thoughts/emotions to the other, but can't read the other person's mind at will. the omega will be a bit more susceptible to the alpha's Voice, and the alpha will be more easily soothed by the omega's purr. the bond can be broken, and while it does cause pain to both parties, it heals with time.

next most common is a single-double bond. A bites B twice, B bites A once. A can read B's mind whenever they want. B can send thoughts/emotions to A and recieve thoughts/emotions A sends to them, but can't read their mind. hormone levels are relatively high and unbalanced, so the two need to be more compatible than with a single reciprocated bond. if A is an alpha, B will be a lot more susceptible to their Voice, but can resist with a great deal of effort, and B will have a bit more control over A with their purr. if A is an omega, B will be a lot more controlled by their purr, and A will be a bit more susceptible to their Voice. the bond can still be broken, but it's very painful for the person who was bitten twice.

next is double reciprocated. A bites B twice, B bites A twice. both can read the other's mind at will, the alpha will be far more swayed with the omega's purr, the omega will find it much harder to resist the alpha's Voice. bonding hormone load is high but balanced, so pairs need to be more compatible than with a single reciprocated bond, but less so than a single double. while breaking the bond is possible, it's incredibly painful for both parties, and often leaves them unable to bond again.

next is single unreciprocated. A bites B once, B doesn't bite A back. A can send thoughts/emotions to B, B can't send anything. if A's an alpha, B will be a bit more susceptible to their Voice, if B's an omega, B will be more susceptible to their purr. hormone load is unbalanced but low, so it requires more compatibility than single reciprocated but less than single-double. breaking the bond has no effect on A, and B will experience only mild discomfort.

finally, least common is double unreciprocated. A bites B twice, B doesn't bite back. there are high, extremely unbalanced levels of bonding hormones, so the two need to be extremely compatible. A can read B's mind at will, B can only receive thoughts/emotions A sends. if A is an alpha, B becomes unable to resist their Voice. if A is an omega, B's emotions are completely controlled by their purr. double unreciprocated bonds can't be broken. if B dies, A will be unaffected (in bond terms, at least). if A dies, B will almost always die shortly after.

and that's my omegaverse worldbuilding!! feel free to ask questions about it if u want. might reblog and add to it later if i realize i forgot anything.

#fuck what do i tag this #fic notes #? yeah that works.

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crossleft · 8 months ago

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**VEILGUARD SPOILERS**

Finished the game last night and had some thoughts. Overall I really enjoyed it! Would definitely recommend playing it but it's also fun to nitpick lol.

Did my standard first run where I go in as blind as possible playing a dwarven warrior. Went with the Warden background because duh and it was really solid, seems like they referenced it a lot throughout so interested to see how other origins will go. Don't think I missed too too much but I know for sure I accidentally missed at least one mission when I saved Treviso too early...anyways:

As usual dwarves got the short end of the stick (hah punny). 18 codex entries to the 43 elven ones and roughly half were just letters and stuff from Lace to her mom, hell one of them was just about the basics of the fucking chantry! Seriously?? I romanced Lace so I don't mind the letters much but damn yall couldn't do more with the deep roads or with Kal-Sharok? Entire chunks of lore breezed over like nothing, and having the thaig and the titan only being one off missions where you can't even go back to the area was the cherry on top. Disappointed but unsurprised.

Liked the companions, overall no big complaints. Up until the end where you find out he's dead the whole Varric always being in bed and not super upset about Bianca being destroyed thing definitely threw me off so that was a big surprise.

Taash was fun think I'll romance them next play through but acting like Qunari are weird about gender after very specifically having Bull say it's no big deal was a bizarre writing choice.

I liked it but Laces romance felt a little underwhelming, curious to how it'll stack up to the others.

Davrin/Assan and Lucanis/Spite were perfect no notes on them, keep up the good work lol.

Bellara felt kinda like they were trying to redo Merrill, which like...ok...then why not just bring back Merrill at that point? And the stuff with her brother felt very paint by numbers. She felt underwritten I guess idk.

Emmerich was a fun surprise since I went in blind I was expecting a standard evil/gloomy necromancer but he ended up being one of my favorite characters. Went the Lich route out of curiosity but haaaate that Fred got killed, for sure keeping him around next time.

Neve grew on me a little by the end but she was overall my least favorite. Felt like someone's OC getting shoehorned in with a bunch of cannon characters. Like the entire first half of the game she and other companions will allude to cases and interesting sounding stories but never expound on them. Every time Rook talks to her she's like "oh it's a long story, maybe I'll tell you some day 😏" then proceeds to never tell it lmao. Maybe it's alluding to comics or something I haven't seen but again, coming in blind it just made her a very boring 2D character outside of the eventual romance with Lucanis which I liked a lot.

Gameplay reminded me a lot of ME3 but with swords. Pretty low bar but as far as a dragon age game goes I'd argue it was easily the best combat in the series.

Leveling system was fine, nothing inspiring. Not the biggest fan of the companion leveling but being able to respec easily with no cost balanced it out.

Inventory was great, massive improvement over all the prior games. I really liked how stuff levels itself up and being able to change appearances easily and early was awesome. Wish you could do a little more with companion armor but that's not really a big deal and they all had decently broad options.

Was worried about only having 2 party members but it worked pretty well I thought. Between that and the bond system it does a good job encouraging swapping them out more. Felt like a lot more ambient dialog too which was a good touch.

Crows retconning into basically a mob family was...a choice. I kind of get it though and imo you can headcannon them being so different as chalked up to Zev having come in and made big changes over the years. Is what it is.

Was initially kinda pissed about the loss of prior choices but having played it now I think they did ok. Bringing the inquisitor in and getting their letters still made it feel like those choices mattered. And like in game it's been years and it all happened in other countries, it makes sense for a lot of that to be old news that most people don't discuss especially given the drama of their own current events. Would have still been nice to get a few codex entries at least.

Bringing Morrigan back felt like a bad choice to me. She's my cannon origins romance and they changed her up a bit too much post inquisition. Like where is Kieren? Where is the HoF? She doesn't mention them and nobody asks?? Just weird. Hot take but her taking Mythal's knowledge made perfect sense for her character, she always sought knowledge like that and her main objection with Flemmeth was that she would be taken over. So now she gets the knowledge and also keeps her mind, classic Morrigan work around imo.

Didn't like the direction they went with the Antaam. Had potential but making them all faceless with super deep voices felt overly dehumanizing. And them going in with elven gods made zero sense at all, like their leadership doing it secretly sure but there at the end why the hell would those footsoldiers follow them like that when they are so distrustful of magic?

Loooooved the Wardens but what's with the changes to the blight? My headcannon is the gods have made it more directed so that's why it's not infecting people so indiscriminately. But based on prior knowledge literally every non Warden character and most npc should be dead or darkspawn waaay before the end of the game. Doesn't feel like they explained it very well. Digging the new darkspawn look though, best appearance change since Origins.

Dorian, Isabella, and Solas felt very in character, no big notes on them.

Hawke not being mentioned unfortunately makes sense to me. They were pretty important 20 years ago in one city on the other side of the continent. Think of it like this, without looking it up who was the mayor of the next city over from you in 2004? They were important but why would you bring them up now decades later to people who have no way of knowing them, even if you were buds with them back then. Varric is the only one who might but he's kinda dead the entire game so again makes sense you don't hear about Hawke

Gifts are back! :) wish there was more than 1 per companion I'm trying to redecorate yalls rooms lol.

Why are there random Wardens telling everyone about the joining????? Just casually too like what the hell yall this is supposed to be secret and you're saying "wow this shitty ale reminds me of the joining where I drank darkspawn blood magically enhanced with archdemon blood" BRO??? SHUT UP this shit is top secret what the fuck???

Liked the redesign on spirits with the sole caviat that I liked rage demons as sentient lava...them having legs feels weird

Super minor gripe but why is the special dwarf armor just like form fitting stone abs now??? The bad ass blocky tank look was so cool! The elven armor having form fitting feet and stuff fits the culture why would dwarves do that? Wouldn't know since there's barely any lore on Kal-Sharok 🙃

Kal-Sharok being set up as this mysterious, secluded, hyper competent thaig where they likely formed their own society of impromptu Wardens cut off from Thedas for hundreds of years was fascinating. They expounded on this precisely not at all....bro why. EVERY thaig gone but them and traditional Orzammar and they only survived because they changed! Seemingly still in touch with Titans, was this only since Valta connected or sooner?? Such a cool story and they didn't do shit with it? After 10 years!? Losing my mind dude they just refuse to do anything with this lore and it's so fucking frustrating.

Aaaaanywho starting a second playthrough. Going with a rouge elf shadow dragon, gonna romance Taash. Probably do a qunari mage next playthrough but we'll see. Curious to see anyone else's thoughts but mostly this is to vent mine.

#dragon age #datv #datv spoilers #dragon age the veilguard #spoilers

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deepdeanvsweston · 8 months ago

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ik you’ve mentioned that DSS is your least fav book in the series and i’m wondering what you would change about it?

im not the biggest fan of it either tbh :)

Oh SO many things buckle in team. Ok so roughly in keeping with canon:

- first, Hazel wouldn't mention that Daisy was dead in the first chapter, nor would it mention it on the blurb

- for me it took the shock out of it so much that I wasn't even surprised she came back

- so it would be this secret until. Well. She actually throws herself in and then the Grief Pages

- just as a side note, when I first read the chapters where Hazel was grieving, I remember thinking 'surely Hazel should be sadder?' because emotions always tend to come through really nicely when Robin writes her. I like to think that Hazel was telling herself 'Daisy wouldn't like me moping about and wailing in the casebook about it'

- anyway

- I'm ALWAYS sitting on the fence about whether I like the moment they reveal themselves as detectives/police officers (I can't quite remember what they call themselves)

- first read I hated it I was like 'what are you doing!!!' but on a re-read I did think 'oh this is very fifteen year old behaviour'

- I really enjoyed the 'theyre 1930s teenage girls so have to be covert in their operations' aspect of MMU, so when they did reveal themselves as 'police officers' and were conducting interviews I did miss those vibes

- so I'd possibly change that bit, I'm not sure what to though

- I'd change how the Damina kiss played out

- I think it was too on the fly personally

- I would have written as Daisy goes to Amina's room for something. And then when she comes back, Hazel describes her as pink and distracted and how she keeps touching her lips. And Hazel writes in her casebook how 'Daisy has lipstick on her lips that wasn't there before but knew Daisy wouldn't appreciate her pointing it out' sort of thing

- I'd change nearly the whole ending

- it's always always bugged me (and made me sad if I'm being honest) how everyone was paired up at the end. I've spoken about this before, but just to reiterate, I think it was bad that a series aimed at 9-12 had all the characters pair up at the end of the series, as if all happy endings included a partner, and especially considering the speed at which it was done

- Halexander I get, it'd been building for a while. Damina, for the same reason, though I would have liked more development. But George and Lavinia I actually had to put the book down because I was speechless

- so yeah I'd do away with George and Lavinia completely (apologies George/Lavinia shippers 💔)

- as for Halexander like I said I get it it had been building

- but what I'd have liked to had seen is the bit where George is like 'has Alex really not said anything?' I would have somehow implied that he was being respectful of Hazel's grief, rather than just being nervous to confess

- and then Hazel would go seek him out instead, and ask him, and ofc he'd say yes

- but then Hazel would tell him 'i can't do this, not right now' and I like to think it would be a sweet moment where they agree to be 'friends for the foreseeable future'

- the whole 'Daisy reveal' thing bugs me too, I just didn't enjoy the way it was done. I'm possibly biased and pinning more on these relationships than there actually is, but I think Bertie and Hazel should have got to see Daisy alive together

- No do you know what I just didn't like the way Daisy actually 'died' either. If we're keeping with canon, she had to die because of the Grief Pages, but maybe I would have had Daisy pulled overboard secretly at night without Hazel realising, maybe about halfway through the book (so earlier than in canon)

- and so Hazel still has this glimmer of hope that Daisy is out there and takes charge and perseveres to solve the case with George, Alex and Amina

- which in my professional opinion would have made the 'madam president' and Hazel telling Daisy she made herself president more meaningful

#don't even get me started in what my personal canon is #murder most unladylike #mmu #daisy wells #hazel wong #alexander arcady #george mukherjee #amina el maghrabi #death sets sail #dss

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virologikal · 10 months ago

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𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐀𝐬𝐤 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞

@nshtn requested: 3, 5, 10, 17 for Wesker (I love your Wesker takes too ahh)

⸻ ⸨ Thank you for the many questions you sent in and I am glad you like my takes so far! I hope you don't mind me splitting some of the questions up in multiple posts so I can better tag them to the relevant characters ⸩

𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒:

3 - NoTP? I don't really have a strict NoTP for Wesker (or any characters, to be honest - I think all dynamics can be interesting to explore depending on how it's done and what the focus is). However, if we are talking about some form of intimacy or even trust at some point, I'd say the least likely I could see him with is Excella. I'm happy to be convinced otherwise, but from my point of view it feels like she is merely a tool to him, and he doesn't exactly hold her in high regards rather than consider her both useful and ... nice to be around, probably? She is gorgeous and ambitious, and clearly admires him to a point where it would cater to his ego, but I doubt he'd be interested in anything more than that.

5 - Out of all your fanworks that include Wesker, which is your favourite? When it comes to writing, definitely my fanfic The Unquiet Grave, because I get to explore his character both in past settings as well as think of ways to bring him into the current game lore. I just like prodding this character like a bug under a microscope. Otherwise, my fanart for him referencing a quote from Hannibal (TV series) is likely my current favorite. It took me roughly a month to finish, and is the only piece I currently have of just Wesker (I just love to paint Chris and Wesker together tbh^^)

10 - What's your favourite piece of fanart for Wesker? Honestly? Impossible to decide. There are so many amazing pieces of fanwork out there, be it in writing or art. I have a few pieces an old friend did back when we used to roleplay which they did for my portrayal and that I still hold very dear and close to my heart, so maybe those stick out a bit. But otherwise - I can't possibly decide on just one thing. All art or edits you find on this blog that I reblogged count as favorites, I'd say!

17 - What's a book, movie, or show you think Wesker would like? Funny enough, I have a headcanon post in the making that pertains to how Wesker perceives media (since there is a recurring theme of him not getting some media related jokes etc.)

To make it brief for the moment: In my interpretation of him, prior to the Mansion Incident he doesn't have time (or take the time) to really sit down and enjoy a tv show or movie, due to the many tasks on his hand. He has to juggle his work for Umbrella, his double-agent plans to leave them and take the research with him, lead the S.T.A.R.S. team as captain without attracting suspicion and at least pretend to have a social life of some capacity.

Once he starts spending time with Chris, he eventually lets him distract him and he actually sits down with him to do "regular person" things (at least for a while, until Umbrella informs him about their plan to use S.T.A.R.S. as test subjects during the Mansion Incident). During this time I imagine Wesker's interests would likely be directed towards anything sci-fi, due to the scientific approach to fictional settings in many shows or movies. Maybe not exactly Star Trek level (though Wesker being a Trekkie is a hilarious crack headcanon), but I'm thinking Event Horizon, Total Recall and, yes, Matrix (we simply cannot ignore the fashion inspiration of RE5 Wesker okay).

As for books, he definitely is an avid reader in my portrayal. Of course mostly scientific works, but also works about human studies (mostly so he could build up knowledge about interpersonal relationships, manipulation tactics, etc.). His special interest in my portrayal being sealife and diving, he would also read a lot about that, including sharks, as I also headcanon he considered Neptune as some sort of "pet".

#⸻ ⨯ 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⇨ 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝.#⸻ ⨯ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 ⇨ 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑.#⸻ ⨯ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 ⇨ 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑.#⸻ ⨯ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 #// thanks a lot again for sending your questions! I'm looking forward to tackle the rest and will tag you.#albert wesker #wesker #resident evil #albert wesker headcanon #wesker headcanon

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sazzujazzu · 1 year ago

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Hello, as the days count down and the Bad Batch finale draws closer, may I show to the fine folks of tumblr my first Star Wars OC in 20 years, created thanks to this show? 😃

Too bad, I'm showing them anyway 😊 somberly chilling while listening to their bestie talk.

Please excuse the poor background (I got lazy) and half-finished Tech (I got sad)

there's, uh, a big mess of words under the image because I wanted to put into words the importance this show has for me, and I am bad at doing so.

I want to get some thoughts off my chest, because I have no one in my day-to-day life who cares about the animated Star Wars shows, and especially the Bad Batch. (well, other than my mom, but I don't want to bore her with my rambling too much. she already banned star wars from me once, i won't let that happen again lol)

I can't stop thinking how much I don't want Bad Batch to end.

This show has been so dear to me. I can't remember the last time I've loved something this much.

Before the second season started, I had an artistic block that had lasted way too long. Anything I drew or wrote, mostly turned out a horrible mess after staring at a blank page for hours and hours, if I ever managed to create anything at all. For someone who tends to draw whenever their hands aren't otherwise busy (aka all the damn time), such a block weighed down on my mental health.

Well, then season two happened, and full-on gave me back my love for Star Wars, a love that had somewhat gone out over the last few years. Then, Plan 99 happened, and broke me because again my favorite character "died" (I'm in team Tech lives until I draw my last breath or until proven correct. That chocolate-eyed cutie-pie is alive nothing will convince me otherwise). Pretty much after finishing the episode and staring at a wall for another 30 minutes, I said "nope" and began writing.

I wrote for hours. I believe it's been well over a decade since I last wrote fanfiction, but here I was, creating a Star Wars oc, something I'd last done as a ten-year-old. And now, roughly a year later, I think I've written over a hundred pages of (very self-indulgent) fanfiction with the Batch, and with my oc that I've come to love.

And drawing, oh boy, have I been drawing!

(... Sure, I've mostly been drawing Tech, over and over again, to a point I once actually considered lying and saying "yeah that's my boyfriend haha!" to a man at my job last summer, when asked who it was that I was drawing for maybe fifth day in a row 😂 likely would've been a more acceptable excuse for someone my age. But, I mean... I just really love drawing him, not only because he is my favorite character of maybe all time, but because he is just so fun to draw! And most of all, at least I draw again!)

And it is all thanks to this wonderful show about a bunch of defective and effective copy-paste boys and their sister.

It's probably something many say, but I've always felt like a bit of an outsider. I've felt like I have no place; when I was a kid, my interests were very different from the other kids of [gender assigned at birth], and trying to play with them while inserting my own interests into the games, often didn't go so well. I was... kind of an odd child (although now, older and questionably wiser, knowing that I might actually be autistic, many things make more sense now. me kind of discovering this about myself is also partially thanks to Bad Batch)

Also, growing up trans/non-binary, while not even knowing what that is or having a word for it, didn't really do much to help with the feeling of "I'm different and an outsider because of it". Perhaps it was one more reason I fell in love with Clone Force 99, because I could see some of myself in them. Being different from the "regs".

I love this show, and these fictional people have become my family, and I am not ready to say goodbye to them.

Alright, weird pile of thoughts over. In case someone read all this, uh... thanks 😊

#i'm nervously rambling into the void #the bad batch #the bad batch fanart #star wars oc #jedi oc

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thepaintedlady00 · 1 year ago

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Nightshade

Chapter 22 | Chapter 24

Holy shit it's been a minute! Hi y'all! I'm back! Life's been absolutely insane lately and finding the time or the inspiration to write has just been really hard the past month or so. So, sorry this has taken so long to get out, but to make it up to y'all here's a 40 PAGE chapter! 😅😂 TW: THIS TW CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS! The usual, language, smoking, drinking, mentions of drugs and alcohol, some very painful memories, mentions of abuse/neglect, mentions/descriptions of nudity and inappropriate photos of a minor, violence, blood, character death, panic attacks, general not so good stuff is gonna go down, unhealthy coping mechanisms (aka ignoring all the shit going wrong until we can't anymore), make out scenes, dirty talk, some minor roleplay if you squint, and finally some fuckin SMUT! Yeah, the will they won't they train has FINALLY left the station! We've got some teasing, foreplay, oral female & male receiving (kind of a little), penetration, nipple play, idk what else to tell ya xD And a little bit of unhealty family drama at the end of it :) Also it's super late where I live so this chapter was very VERY roughly edited, so if ya see any mistakes, no you don't xD

Chapter 23: Oysters & Champagne

The greatest changes happen with time. It is the slow, steady progression that paves the way forward for bigger, brighter things. The shift between day and night, the methodical building of new cities and roads, and the lowering of one's guard to allow connection and emotion to take hold. The greatest things often happen slowly, then all at once.

As I watched Jake sign to Prue from across the diner table, taking her feedback with a determination I wouldn't have expected from him when we'd first met, it was hard not to think of Rada's old saying. “Slowly, then all at once,” Rada explained as she helped guide my brush into lighter, slower strokes. “See? Rome was not built in a day my Lena, your painting will not be perfected in that time either.”

So much had changed in the past months that it was hard to even remember how it all began. In the beginning, Jake had been just another annoying bad-boy bartender that wanted a quick easy fuck and I'd been just another closed-off, flighty back waiter. Yet, here we were, sitting side by side in a diner booth. It was strange to think that when we'd first met I wanted nothing to do with him or his flirtatious advances and now… Now I couldn't imagine a moment without him.

“Okay, okay, let me try this,” he said with a sly grin. “Your boyfriend is a pussy.”

Prue rolled her eyes, but admitted, “You're improving.”

“Thank you,” he beamed, clearly pleased with himself and his joke.

She reached over the table and flicked his head. “You're an ass.”

Jake rubbed his forehead as I laughed. “You deserved that.”

“Worth it.”

As we happily resumed eating our breakfasts the diner door opened and slammed shut. Quinn tore her jacket off and threw it into the booth as she slid in and picked up her menu. It'd been like this for a few days. Quinn would show up pissed off about something, we'd ask, she'd tell us it was nothing and then she'd get drunk every night. It was an obvious cycle of coping, the question was what she was coping with.

Prue and I shared a glance, trying to work out the best way to approach the subject. Jake, however, just went straight into speaking, “What's crawled up your ass?”

“Nothing,” she ground out glaring at him from behind her menu.

He laughed. “And you call me grumpy.”

Something in her finally broke. “Fuck you, at least I have a reason to be so grumpy!”

“Yeah?” He continued to press, the asshole in him just unable to contain his glee at getting a rise out of someone. “Like what?”

“Like my dumbass fucking dad showing up!”

The silence that followed was interrupted by the sound of our forks clacking against the plates. Quinn's dad was something serious, something that rarely came up anymore but serious all the same. He was a known addict who spent her entire childhood bouncing between neglect and full-fledged abuse. When Quinn lived across the street from us we could hear him yelling and throwing things at all hours of the day. At night he'd leave, sometimes for weeks at a time, and Quinn would essentially come and live with us until her dad came pounding on our door demanding his kid back.

My dad had beat the shit out of him more times than I could remember, but other than that there wasn't much we could do, not when Quinn refused to let us. For years she held out hope that her dad would one day get things figured out and they could be a real family. That hope died when she turned sixteen and he disappeared. After she'd grown up and gotten on her own two feet he started showing up at random asking for money or a place to stay while he “figured some things out”, but that always ended the same. With Quinn brokenhearted.

“Your dad's back in town?” I asked. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“It doesn't matter,” she responded.

“Yes, it does! We all know what he puts you through, Quinn. We could-”

“You could do nothing because unlike you I don't have two big brothers and a drug dealer on speed dial.” The harsh words settled over the table, sinking into both of us for a minute before Quinn shook her head and relented to the tired ache in her. “I… I'm sorry, Lee. I didn't mean that.”

“It's okay,” I reassured her, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I know.”

Tears built in her eyes but she wouldn't cry, not because of him, not ever again. “I told him to fuck off already so he's probably halfway back into whatever hole he crawled out of.”

Prue put her arm around Quinn's shoulder and hugged her. “Want us to stay with you? I can close up shop for the day.”

“I can call in,” I offered.

“I can say pussy,” Jake added, getting a laugh out of her. “Seriously though, I dunno what they're saying but… Fuck your dad.”

She sniffled and shook off the wave of sorrow. “Thanks, all of you, but I'm good.”

Holding out her pinky Prue gave her a look. “Pinky swear?”

Quinn shook it and nodded. “Pinky swear.”

“And, just for the record,” I said, “My brothers would always come to help you, Quinn. So would Dom. You're not alone.”

“I know,” she whispered, but I could see what was left unsaid in her eyes. It's not the same. We may have been Quinn's found family, but the hurt in her was the same as Patrick felt. She knew she wasn't blood… She knew if it came to a choice between me and her my brothers would choose me every time. And nothing I said or did would change her mind on it.

The ring of Jake's phone broke the uneasy silence. He checked the number with narrow eyes. “It's Dom.”

“Dom's calling you?” Quinn questioned, forcing herself to relax even just partially.

“Okay, what did you guys do that day I was gone?” I teased. “First he's actually using your government name, then he's calling you on the phone?”

Jake shushed me as he answered. “Hey, what's up? Uh… No, I don't. Sure, I guess. Yeah, see you in a bit.”

“What was that about?”

“Apparently I'm getting a couch and a TV.”

I shook my head and nudged him. “Seriously, what did you do?”

Jake shrugged, taking a final bite of his food before standing. “Don't worry bout it, Princess. See you at work.”

“See you at work,” I replied. “Don't break any legs trying to move that shit into your tiny apartment.”

He flipped me off as he made his way out the diner door and headed out. When I turned back to the table Quinn and Prue were both grinning at me. “You've seen his apartment now?”

“It's not a big deal,” I replied.

“Is this part of that juicy phone call I intercepted a while ago?” Her eyebrows rose. “A sexy debt if I remember correctly.”

“I have no clue what you're talking about.”

Prue slapped her hands on the table. “Spill it!”

“There's nothing to spill,” I insisted.

“Bullshit!” Quinn interjected. “You were gone all day.”

With a roll of my eyes and a giddy, girlish feeling making my stomach fill with butterflies I caved. “We just hung out and took a few pictures with his camera.”

Quinn's brows wiggled. “Sexy pictures?”

“Maybe…”

Prue happily squeaked. “Oh my god did you two finally-”

“No.”

Quinn groaned, throwing her head back. “Oh my god! Just fuck already!”

I shook my head. “Classy, Quinn.”

“Seriously!” She continued. “I feel like I'm getting blue balled and I'm not even involved in your almost fucks!”

“Just think about how great it would feel to finally do it,” Prue added. “I know I was absolutely buzzing when Will and I finally did!”

“I…” With a sigh I looked down and quickly, quietly admitted. “I have thought about it.”

Quinn quickly translated for Prue and both of them became insatiable for the rest of breakfast.

Jake watched the bikers easily maneuver the decently sized couch and the modest TV around the stairs and up into his apartment. He'd attempted to help a few times but quickly got told to “bugger off” by what looked like an eighty-year-old man, so he just stood and watched. Dom stood next to him, silently observing before he finally asked, “Well, what do you think?”

“It looks good,” he answered. “Still a bit confused as to why you're giving me this shit but hey, frees free.”

Dom chuckled, a real chuckle. “I don't got the room for it, besides, you earned it.”

Shaking his head, Jake once again reiterated the facts. “I didn't do anything. I just-”

“You just protected her,” Dom finished for him. “That ain’t nothin’, Jake.”

“Yeah, but I don't need… Payment or anything for it.” He looked at Dom, meeting the hardened eyes. “I didn't do it for that.”

“I know.” The drug dealer clapped him on the shoulder. “Consider it a gift then.”

“Didn't take you for a guy that gave out gifts.”

“I'm not, so just say thank you and we'll never speak of it again.”

Jake chuckled. “Thank you, Dom.”

“Shut up,” he answered, nodding to the new space. “It's a bit crowded.”

With a shrug, Jake just examined the soft leather. “It's not too bad. I'm used to tight spaces.”

Hemingway leaped onto the sofa, purring as he rubbed the soft leather on his skin. “Well, at least the cat likes it.” Dom watched the others leave and moved to follow. “Call me if you can't get the TV workin'. I'll have John come out and fix it.”

“John's the one that calls me a twit, right?”

“Yep.”

“I'm sure the TV works fine.” He waved them off and closed the door, staring at the tiny living room he now had set up.

It wasn't perfect or fancy, most people would even argue that it was too much for the already cramped space, but Jake kind of liked it. His chair had gotten pushed into the back corner with his guitar on top of it. The edges of the couch left only a little room for people to slide past to the bathroom, but he rarely had company over so that didn't matter much. The TV fit on top of one of his shelves and left enough room for him to put DVDs or VHS tapes up too. He'd moved the thin coffee table he never used into the center of the space, pushing it up against the shelf a bit so there was enough legroom for the couch and then he sat down.

“Well,” he asked, turning towards the cat. “What do you think?”

Hemingway's only response was a loud purr as he curled up on the section of couch that was bathed in sunlight.

Jake chuckled at the creature and settled into the leather, resting his head against the back of the couch. “Yeah, it's pretty nice.”

22West was relatively quiet when I got in. The kitchen was almost done with prep work and from what I could tell we weren't overbooked. The locker room was empty and stayed empty as I changed into my work attire. It felt kind of nice, to have a moment of quiet to myself at the start of a hopeful easy shift.

Jake set his bike down by the door and quickly entered, hair still disheveled. I closed my locker and smirked at him. “You're running later than normal.”

“I fell asleep,” he answered, practically tearing the locker open and throwing his newly returned jacket to me. I opened my mouth to protest, but he just gave me a look over his shoulder, “Just let this one be easy for me tonight?”

“Fine,” I agreed, reopening my locker and shoving the jacket inside. “Just this once.”

“Thanks, princess.”

“How was moving your couch in?”

Jake just chuckled. “I barely touched the damn thing. The bikers took care of everything.”

I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they're pretty efficient when they wanna be. So, are you ever gonna spill the beans on why you're all so buddy-buddy all of a sudden?”

He glanced at me, a fleeting thing shining in his eyes before he looked down at his tie and shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell, really. I just came looking for you and they… Respected that.”

Glaring at him through narrow eyes I reached up and helped him with his tie. “Likely story.”

“You worried they'll start to like me better than you?” He teased.

“As if!” I laughed. “You're not nearly that charming.”

With a smirk, Jake leaned forward, “So how charming do you think I am?”

Humming in thought I knew the real answer. The instant, resounding too charming filled my brain for a minute before I answered. “I'd say you're a solid four.”

“Four?!” He scoffed. “I'm higher than four.”

“You certainly think so,” I replied with a wicked grin, my hands smoothing down his chest. His phone buzzed against the metal material of his locker. “I'll save you a plate, sweetie.”

Rolling his eyes he answered with a simple, “Thanks.”

Once I'd emerged from the kitchen the noise that the restaurant had been absent of, filled the space. Everyone was gathered around the wall instead of at the table eating. They whispered to one another, giggling and making suggestive faces. “What are we giggling about?”

Sasha smirked, giddily grabbing my wrist to pull me towards the wall. “We are just admiring the new painting that has graced our humble restaurant!”

The crowd parted and my heart stopped dead in my chest. There, hanging on the wall in front of me was, well, me. My portrait. My nude portrait. I felt lightheaded, my vision blurring, and the voices of everyone joking and teasing were suddenly drowned out by a loud, shrill ringing.

It wasn't the sight of my nude body that filled me with a sense of dread. Though I still hated the sight of it - of what it had originally represented - it was the large splatter of crimson that stained the canvas that truly made my heart sink. It was the vivid and violent contrast between the soft hues of acrylic and the hard flakes of dried blood.

My brush slid along the canvas, the bright hues of blue and yellow, and lavender contrasting against the neutral skin tones of my self-portrait. I'd struggled to look at it, the fleshy rendering of my mostly nude figure. Its imperfections made me feel even more inadequate than I already did, the reference photo being one of the first that Tony had taken of me. That was his art, dressing and posing me to look perfect - to look like the beautiful and obedient woman he always said I'd grow into.

Truthfully I hadn't even considered painting something for this upcoming gala, having known well in advance they only wanted nudes or mostly sos to display. That wasn't what I painted, nor was it something I was particularly interested in doing, but Tony had insisted. So, there it was in all its hideous, imperfect glory. The portrait of a self I didn't even feel was me, but rather the hollow husk everyone else wanted. Everyone but Rada.

She peered over her shoulder, watching me paint for a moment as she cleaned the penthouse living room. The look on her face told me that she hated it as much as I did. But, she said nothing about how cold and lifeless it felt or about how she thought it in poor taste to paint a fourteen-year-old nude. Rada just kept cleaning, offering me what reassurance she could, like she always did. And like always, just knowing she was here was enough.

The elevator dinged open and Jules held Tony up, guiding him to the nearest chair and helping him get settled. It was obvious that he'd just got back from one of his benders on the flight back from France so I tried to keep my eyes to myself. Tony was never predictable per se, but he was always constant. His violence was never random, nor was it ever out of the blue. But, that changed when he got high enough.

“I'll go get the doctor, just to be certain you haven't taken too much.”

He chuckled. “Ever loyal, my dear friend. Some in the house could learn from you.”

The jab was obviously meant for me, but I kept my eyes on my painting, hoping it would spare me his anger for at least tonight. Jules exited quickly and with him gone, everything fell apart. The first noise I heard was the sound of metal clinking against the marble countertop, and the next was the bone-chilling sound of the cylinder of his revolver spinning.

My brush froze on the canvas, ears honing into the slow steps he took toward me before he hauled me up by the hair. “Let's play a game, baby girl.”

“I…” The words struggled to find their way from my throat as my eyes caught Rada's. “I have to finish my painting for the gala tomorrow.”

“It can wait,” he insisted, throwing me back into the counter and pinning me against it.

He spun the cylinder again, a crazed grin settling on his lips as he held it to his head and pulled the trigger twice. As always, he laughed when I flinched and then forced the gun into my hand. “I don't-” His finger forced my own down onto the trigger.

The game played out like it always did until Tony's smile faltered and a rage seemed to fill his eyes. “Do you love me?”

I'd spoken the words so many times before then, but for some reason, I froze. My brain screamed at me, begging me to say it - to tell him I loved him, but deep in my heart I knew the truth. I don't love you. This isn't love. The rage spilled from his eyes, overtaking his face as he struck me hard enough to make my head hit the counter. The blow was enough to force the words out, “I do! You know I love you!”

“Is that right?” He spat, carelessly tossing the gun onto the counter and holding my head down on it. I gripped at him, searching for skin to scratch or anything to get him off me. “You didn't seem so sure just a moment ago.”

“No! I'm sure! I… I was just confused!”

“Confused?” He laughed, a sound that sent chills up my spine and made my muscles all tense. “Stupid girl. Do you even understand?” He hauled me up, holding my face in one of his hands so hard I could feel my jaw crack. “You're alive because I want you. If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing!”

“I know!” My lips trembled as I blinked back tears. “I'm nothing without you, Tony. I know that. Please…”

I prepared myself for another bout of his laughter, or another blow maybe, but neither came. Instead, I heard the cock of Tony's gun and a surprised… Annoyed sound leave his throat. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Let go of her,” Rada demanded. From the corner of my blurred vision, I could just barely see her, standing at the end of the counter pointing Tony's gun at him with slightly trembling hands. “You let her go now, or I swear on all of God's holy saints I will kill you.”

He laughed then, that deep, boisterous one that sent terror through me. Turning his head Tony smiled at me. “Seems you're not the only one that's forgotten their place.”

Through the tight grip of his hands, I begged, pleaded with him, “Please…”

With one harsh shove, my head collided with the counter enough to make my ears ring and my vision spin. I could hear his footsteps and the quiet sound of the gun's trigger being pulled.

Click.

Fear, desperate and heavy, filled my lungs and stole my breath as I scrambled to find my bearings.

Click.

Bang.

My vision cleared just in time to watch Rada collapse half on top of my painting. Blood gushed from the side of her neck, spraying across the canvas and staining the carpet. A sharp breath finally filled my lungs, yet I still found them breathless. “NO!”

I scrambled forward, pressing my hands to her neck and desperately trying to apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding. Her body shook beneath me, at least it felt that way… It could have been my own shaking. Through the sound of her gurgling breaths, I could hear Tony laughing. “L… Le…”

“Shh,” I urged. “Don't talk. Just hold on. Someone's gonna help.”

Rada smiled, tears filling her eyes as she struggled to lift a hand to lovingly brush my hair behind my ear. “My… Bea…utifil…” Blood splattered across my face as she coughed. “Da… Daugh…”

I could feel her skin grow cold as her chest stuttered and then stopped. “No! Mama please!” I sobbed, moving my hands to shake her shoulders. “Don't leave me here! Mama!”

“What's happened?” Jules’ voice cut through my screams as he burst into the room.

Tony, still laughing, waved him off. “One of the maids got a bit too bold. Don't worry, my friend, I took care of it.”

Rage filled me, rage and grief and a forever-festering desire to end it all. Chest heaving and lungs burning I stood and turned to the kitchen as Jules helped Tony back to his seat. I grabbed a knife from the counter and ran forward with a wail. Tony's eyes shined at the sight of me and the knife flying toward him as if this was what he wanted. Jules turned his head and with no hesitation, he threw himself between Tony and me.

Blood, hot and sticky, splashed my hands and face as my knife met flesh.

Jake glared at the message on his phone, a sense of regret and shame making him feel sick to his stomach.

Won't be back for another day or two. - Simone

When Jake had finally worked up the courage to answer her calls on Thanksgiving morning she'd been livid. She screamed at him for being so selfish and childish and demanded he stop with his attitude and come with her. He'd held his ground, of course, but the sting of her anger always made him feel like a pathetic eight-year-old boy being scolded. Jake had said sorry. He'd texted her, checking in, he even tried to call, but she'd given him nothing in response until now.

He breathed out a frustrated breath and put his phone back in his pocket, shutting his locker and hurrying downstairs to distract himself from the weight of his feelings with food and his friends gossiping. That, however, was not what he walked into. The group gathered around one of the walls, laughing and asking questions when he approached. “The fucks everyone pissing themselves over?”

Ari shifted, revealing more of the large painting that now hung on the wall of the restaurant. Jake’s jaw dropped at the sight of a nude figure - a body he'd grown most familiar with in the past months. If he'd been unsure at all, the bold curves of her name labeling the corner of the piece erased it. Lena.

The redhead in question stood, frozen staring up at it as Sasha talked and teased in her ear. A cold shiver crawled up his spine at the sight of her. This wasn't just some embarrassing nude portrait. This was something else. Something that made her spine stiffen and her skin lose its color.

Jake shoved past everyone and moved between Lena and Sasha. The Russian cursed at him in the foreign language. “What the hell?”

“Fuck off Sasha!”

With a prideful scoff, he turned away, shooing the crowd. “Bossy bossy!”

“Lena,” Jake whispered, reaching out for her. His fingers barely grazed her arm before she recoiled, a quick reaction he would have missed if he'd not been paying attention. She turned and looked at him with glossy eyes and a dead expression that made his gut tighten and his heart drop. “Lena?”

With a sharp exhale and a staggering step, she was moving. She stepped around him, shoved through the crowd and across the lobby. Her body flung itself through the kitchen doors and Jake followed, not even sure if it was what she'd want. The second he entered behind her he found her hunched over the garbage, throwing up the breakfast they'd shared. The kitchen crew all made noises of disgust and Scott dropped his utensils to turn and look at the disruption. “What the hell, Red?”

Lena composed herself, wiping the spit from her mouth with a shaking hand. “S-sorry chef.”

“Are you good now?” Scott asked, his tone as harsh and uncaring as it always was, but his eyes narrowed in concern.

Isaac had dropped everything and rushed to the front of the line, held off only by her raising a hand to stop him as she shook her head. “I… Just…” She looked like she was about to puke again, but held it back. “I just need a minute.”

As she turned toward the stairs, not meeting his eyes, Jake felt his worry shift to anger. This had to be him. The Anthony that Dom had told him about. And in that moment, Jake understood Patrick's bitterness about how little he truly knew. He felt unprepared - unequipped to offer Lena any help, but even with that aching feeling, Jake followed her up the stairs. He'd be there, no matter what she needed from him, Jake would be there.

I knew I was moving, talking. I could feel each strained movement and hear each shaky reply. None of it registered. In my mind, I was still standing in front of that painting… Still in the penthouse living room watching my mom bleed out. I was stuck, or my mind was, reliving that moment over and over again while my body just kept moving on autopilot.

“What can we do when we feel stuck?” Dad asked.

“Keep moving.”

“Keep moving. Find something to ground you.”

“Keep moving,” I murmured to myself as I stumbled up the stairs. “Just keep moving.”

I could hear someone following me up, but I didn't stop or look back. I just had to keep going. One foot in front of the other. When I finally made it to the locker room bathroom I barely registered slamming the door shut and fumbling for the knobs of the faucet. It felt like my head was spinning with the noise and the heat and the nausea.

“Get out,” I told myself in the mirror trying to focus on my face and drown out the sound of Tony's laugh with the running water. “Get out.”

“Stupid girl. Do you even understand?”

I was going to throw up again. “Get out.”

“If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing.”

A pounding came from the door as it got harder and harder to breathe. “Get out.”

“I'm the only one that could ever love you.”

In the background, I heard the door open, but whoever was standing in it was distorted… Replaced by Tony's laughing face and his thin frame. It isn't real, I told myself, but my body was already gone. Desperate panic forced the shrill cry from my lips, “GET OUT!”

Whoever it was vanished, but the fear didn't go with them. Every inch of me shook as I scrambled to find a foothold in reality. I needed something, anything to keep me from passing out. “Find something to ground you.”

There was one thing that would keep me going. One thing I could use. I turned the cold water off and stuck my hands beneath the boiling water. The pain made everything else fade away, forcing my body to stay on its feet and pulling my mind to the present. My heart hammered in my chest and a pained cry echoed in my ears as I stared into my own reflection.

Tears stained my cheeks and my hair had tiny clumps of throw up in it. It wasn't pretty, but it was real. I was here. The door opened again and Isaac opened his mouth, obviously having prepared something to say. That something vanished as he watched the steam rise up from the sink and he realized what I was doing. He ran forward and turned the water off, switching it to cold as he looked at my red hands. “Shit!”

“I couldn't get out,” I whispered in a broken… Pathetic voice.

Isaac held me from behind, keeping my hands beneath the now-cold water as I began to shake again. The pain was gone and without it, everything else started to creep back in. “It's okay, Lena. It's okay.”

“I…” A breathless whine caught in my throat. “I can't get out.”

“You're out,” he answered. “You're here.”

“I… I…” My body lurched forward, bile spewing from my mouth as panic began to set back in.

Isaac squeezed my hands and stammered before he released me. “Okay… Fuck… Okay, I… I'm gonna call Peter.”

I shut my eyes, setting my head against the chilled sink. “Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout.”

Without even really thinking I shut the cold water off and reached for the hot water knob. Find something to ground yourself. A hand settled on top of mine as a new body settled in Isaac's place behind me, one I recognized instantly. “Stop.”

Jake.

Standing upright I opened my eyes, I stared into his eyes through the mirror. “Can you tell me what you need?”

Clenching my jaw I shook my head as my chest stuttered with repressed sobs. “That's okay.” Jake gently pulled my arms back, crossing them over my chest and holding me tightly to his. “Can you feel my heartbeat?”

I nodded.

“Can you feel my breaths?”

I nodded again.

“Breathe with me,” he whispered, pressing his head to mine as he quietly counted. I watched us through the mirror for a minute before I let my eyes shut. Jake's steady breaths fanned across my neck, his heart beat against my back and his warm embrace sank into my bones. It was like his whole body was speaking to mine… Telling it that there was no danger. I was safe. “That's it, just breathe, Princess. You're here. You're safe with me.”

I'm safe. I'm with Jake. Slowly my breaths began to even out and my brain felt less muddled. I'm with Jake. My body stopped shaking and eventually, all that was left was us. I'm safe.

Isaac's panicked voice echoed as he walked back towards the bathroom door. “I don't know what to do! She's… I don't even know how to explain it.”

Swallowing, I quietly asked, “Is he talking to my brother?”

“Yeah,” Jake answered. “He got worried.”

“Can you tell him I'm okay now? I…” I opened my eyes and met Jake's gaze. “I don't want Peter to come all the way down here. Please.”

“Okay.” He looked down at the sink.

“I'm good now,” I assured him. “I'm just gonna sit down for a minute.”

If it were anyone else they'd likely have fought me, but this was Jake. He knew I wasn't lying. His hold on me loosened and he carefully helped me sit on top of the toilet lid. “I'll be right back.”

While the muffled conversation carried on outside the door I just sat there, staring at my reddened hands with an empty sense of impending doom. He was here. In this restaurant. He'd hung that painting where every guest, everyone passing close enough by the windows, would be able to see it. Still, I knew it wasn't about publicly shaming me. If that were the case he would've chosen to frame one of the many photos he had of me. This was a personal message. A reminder.

“If you're going to play games, you'd best be prepared to do whatever it takes to win.” He reminded me often after that night, that Rada had played and lost. That Francois had played and lost. Everyone always lost. “They don't have the mind or the stomach to win this game of ours, baby girl. We're still the only ones even playing.”

Deep down I knew what this meant. I knew, yet I refused to think it - to breathe life into that horrifying and terrible thought. He didn't get to toy with me. He didn't get to scare me out of this life.

This life was mine. I had survived his horrors, I'd taken the blows and I'd made my choices. I had fought and bled and killed for this life. He didn't get to take that away, not now, not ever. He didn't get to win.

I wiped my eyes and forced everything back into that box deep inside me. Once my feet steadied I walked out into the locker room where Jake had taken the phone from Isaac and was trying to talk my brothers down. I held my hand out. “Let me talk to them.”

Jake watched me for a minute before he nodded, “She wants to talk to you. Here.”

“Thanks.” I held the phone to my ear, listening to Patrick in the background throwing things around in search of his shoes. “I'm fine. Just stay home and take care of the gym.”

“Fuck that!” Patrick yelled.

“Is he there?” Peter asked, his voice filled with the rage he rarely had.

Sparing a glance at Jake I answered, “No. He's not stupid enough to show up with Dom around.”

“Then what happened?”

Flashes filled my head again as I forced myself to answer. “It's just a painting, Pete.”

“Which painting?”

“One you don't have to worry about,” I bit in bitter frustration. “Just… Please don't come. Please.”

“Lena you-”

“I am fine.” I insisted coldly. “I… I just want to work, okay? Can you just let me do that?”

Peter was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Promise me you're safe?”

As if on their own, my eyes drifted to Jake again, meeting those sea-blue eyes. “I promise.”

He shouted at Patrick before speaking again. “Okay. Put Isaac back on.”

“Thank you.” I turned towards the door where Isaac stood biting his nails. “Here.”

I watched him move out of the locker room, talking to my brother for a second before I turned back to Jake. What do I say? I asked myself. He no doubt had a thousand questions, all of which would be tied up in the painting… Which was tied up in Rada and Tony and everything I didn't want him to know. So, when his mouth opened I stopped breathing. “What do you need?”

What? My brain went blank in seconds as I gaped at him. “W… Don't you have like a million questions?”

“Course I do,” he replied simply. “The most important of them being that one. So, what do you need?”

“Honestly? I… Kinda wanna just forget this ever happened.” I admitted looking down at my feet. “

“That's gonna be kinda hard with that thing hanging up out there.”

“Yeah, it is.”

He shrugged a shoulder and moved to pass me. “Gimme one minute.”

I followed him to the door. “What are you doing?”

“Just trust me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sasha!” He hollered, heading across the hall toward the front room. “Give me a hand real quick?”

Service started before Jake came back and so I jumped into work. I used it to distract myself from obsessing over the fact that hundreds of rich assholes were out there, no doubt looking at my painting - my body. That got harder to do when Will moved me to back waiting. The first follow of my night felt like I was walking right into a lion's den. And then it suddenly wasn't.

I didn't know what they did, all I knew was when I walked out of the kitchen and into the sea of customers, the painting was nowhere in sight. I looked at Jake as he worked behind the bar, and all the answer he offered me was a smile.

After that, the night felt a little less heavy and before I knew it we were all gathering around the bar for after shift drinks. I gave Nicky a pat on the back and smiled. “Head home Nick, I'll get it all closed up.”

“You sure?” He asked, handing me his bar rag.

“Go on,” I urged.

Jake and I worked side by side, serving drinks to each of our friends as they all mingled and began to filter out the door. It felt good to be behind the bar with him again, but whenever I looked up all I could see was that painting on the wall. Fighting that foreboding feeling was tiring and not something I wanted to spend all night doing.

“So,” Jake started cautiously as he stacked a few glasses. “Today was a lot.”

I sighed and looked down at the bartop. “Yeah… Sorry about earlier. I wasn't trying to be… I dunno, pathetic.”

“You were hardly pathetic,” he assured me.

“Thanks,” I whispered, finally looking up at him.

“For what?”

“Grounding me.” Suddenly shy beneath his gaze I looked away. “I have a hard time coming out of episodes like that and you… You made it less shitty. A lot less shitty. So, thank you.”

His fingers combed through my hair as he brushed it behind my ear. “No problem, Princess.”

“Let's get drunk tonight.”

With a smirk, he asked, “You think that'll help?”

“Can't hurt to try.” I shrugged, repeating the words he'd told me. “Besides, I kinda want you to be all over me again.”

Jake's smirk grew wider, turning to pull my body into his. “Like this?”

I nodded, happily drinking in the warmth and the smell of him. “Yeah. Like that.”

“Come on then,” he answered, tugging me out from behind the bar and throwing his jacket around my shoulders. “Let's go.”

Jake watched Lena dance from the bar as he nursed his first and likely only drink for the night. She'd been drinking steadily since they arrived, though no one seemed to want to discourage her from it. Peter and Patrick had told Dom shortly after Lena had talked them out of coming and so he and the bikers were nowhere in sight. Whether that was something to worry about or not, he didn't know.

At first, he'd considered talking to the brothers about the whole situation, but Patrick had just given him a shake of his head and nodded to Lena. A reminder that everything - or almost everything - they did was on her terms. They'd discuss it when she was ready to. She'll never be ready to, he told himself.

Lena was strong and stubborn. In those first months, he'd thought she was fearless. The longer he spent with her - with everyone - the more he realized that no one was truly unafraid. Everyone feared something and that was okay… It was normal to be afraid. Fear often meant that you cared about something outside of yourself. But, Lena's fear was something entirely different. Her fear was intertwined with her anger and her sorrow. So much of her was packed into the threads she refused to acknowledge let alone pull on.

So, she'd keep drinking and dancing and moving forward. She'd leave seeing that painting in the restaurant as buried as whatever memory it was tied to. And, though his stomach twisted into knots at the thought of leaving her panic attack in the bathroom unresolved, Jake would let her have this. He had to.

After an hour he excused himself outside, not bothering to take the alley to the couch while the bikers had vacated their spot out front of the bar. He grabbed his jacket from Lena's seat and fished out his cigarettes and his lighter, moving to pull one out when he looked up and saw Quinn. She was boxed up against the wall outside by an older, angry-looking man - her father if he had to guess. From the door, Jake could see the tears building in her eyes as he screamed at her and grabbed her arms to shake her. His jaw clenched and his feet carried him toward her. “Hey!”

“Jake-” she tried to interrupt.

He ignored her, shoving the man's filthy hands off Quinn and occupying the spot in front of her. “Get the fuck out of here.”

Her dad laughed. “You’re a real tough guy, huh? Do you know who the fuck I am?”

“Don't care.” Jake shoved him again when he tried to get up in his face.

“You're gonna regret this,” he said, spitting at Jake's feet as he glared at Quinn and slunk back into the night mumbling and grumbling curses and threats under his breath.

He waited until the man had vanished around the corner to turn to Quinn. She was closed off, almost angry as she huffed, “You didn't have to do that.”

“I know,” Jake answered, lighting his cigarette. He took a drag before wordlessly offering it to her. Quinn accepted and smoked in silence alongside him. “So, that's your dad?”

“Yep.”

“Seems like a real charmer.”

She sighed. “Yeah.”

Jake recognized the look in her eyes, that painful anger. “I never knew my dad, but he probably wasn't too different from your old man.”

“It sucks, right?” she asked, looking up at him. “Being so… Unimportant to someone that's supposed to love you.”

“Yeah, it does,” he earnestly replied. “But, we've got other people, you know… Better people.”

“I know,” she whispered. “That's different though.”

With a solemn nod, he agreed, “I know it is.”

“Thanks,” she said, clearing her throat. “For the smoke.”

“No problem. And, if he shows up again or bothers you or whatever, just call me and I'll come take care of it.”

“You don't have to worry about me,” Quinn insisted with a sad look.

It was a simple, sad sentence, one Jake had used countless times before. He knew the ugly truth that hid behind the words. I don't want to be weak. Weak. It was laughable to think anyone found Quinn weak. In all the time he'd known her, she was nothing short of sassy, strong, and confident. Yet, here, on the side of the street, Quinn looked small.

She must've felt small too, the way she kept glancing at him with that fearful hint of shame. Jake felt a few things swirl around in his chest. Anger that her shitty dad made her feel like this small and unimportant. Sad that her shitty dad made her feel unloved. But the strongest among them was a new, blinding need to protect her. Jake wanted to make sure Quinn never felt that way ever again and it was frightening for a moment. However scared he was of this new responsible feeling, he quickly decided that he didn't care.

He didn't care how scared he was, he knew Quinn and he knew that she deserved the same kind of family that she'd given him with her persistence and her meddling. “Yeah, but what kinda big brother would I be if I didn't.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him and breathed out a soft laugh. “I…I've never had a big brother before.”

“I've never been one before,” he replied, looking anywhere but her face. “Guess it'll be something new for both of us.”

Quinn nodded, and without another word, she stepped forward and hugged him. “Well, just for the record, I can't think of a better idiot to be my big brother.”

He held her close, letting the words fill him with pride. “I have my smart moments.”

They held each other for a moment longer, both holding onto that feeling of family that neither of them had known - at least not like this. Then Quinn pulled away, wiping her eyes. “We should get back inside.”

“Yeah, we should.” He replied, following her with a steady arm around her shoulder.

I downed the shot in one quick motion, shaking off the burning tingling feeling that engulfed my face after. It felt nice to forget. The tingling was all I could really focus on… Well, the only other thing I could focus on.

Jake had been cool and collected all day. He'd handled the painting, the panic attack, and everything else seemingly with ease. While I made quick work of every drink Ian made, he slowly drank his beer and watched me with amusement. It reminded me of the last time I'd gotten wasted, what little of it I could remember.

Want. No matter how much I drank or how much I kept putting the big shit off, the want never lessened. As I watched Jake with that stoic face of his, all I could think about were those heated moments between us. All I could think about was how badly I wanted to do all of them again. So, with a wide, drunken grin I took hold of his hand and started pulling him through the crowd. “Come on!”

He chuckled but let me drag him to the back hall next to the bathrooms. “You gonna hurl?”

“No,” I giggled, stumbling into his chest. “I wanna kiss you!”

“Yeah? And we had to come over here to do that?”

“I'm not gonna make out with you in front of my dad!” I replied in a giddy, hushed whisper. “Do you wanna kiss or not?”

Jake stepped forward, backing me into the wall, his hands landing on my hips as I stared up at him in awe. “I always wanna kiss you, princess.”

With a satisfied hum, I gripped his shirt and pulled him towards me. “Good.”

In the dimly lit hallway surrounded by noise and bodies somehow in my mind, it was just the two of us. Jake's lips moved in time with my own, our hands grabbing at one another with a furious need to somehow be closer. The slight buzz of the alcohol made my head feel light and erased all of the lingering unknowns from my mind entirely. It was that mix that made me feel bold enough to touch Jake exactly how I wanted to.

I palmed him through his jeans, swallowing every moan until he pulled away from my lips with a groan. He squeezed my hips, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “Fuck.”

Smiling, I leaned forward and kissed his neck. “You're so pretty.”

“If you were sober I…” He groaned again as my teeth scraped his Adam's apple.

“You'd what?”

Jake looked down at me and shook his head, hands leaving my hips to take hold of my face. “I'd do a lot of things.”

“Sounds fun. Would I like it?”

“Definitely,” he whispered.

I smirked. “How do you know?”

Bumping our noses together Jake shrugged, “I have it on good authority I excel at the art of pleasure.”

“Hmm,” I hummed playfully, “I think you're just overconfident.”

“I'll just have to give you a private demonstration.” He sighed against my lips, amused and frustrated all at once. “When you're sober.”

“When I’m sober,” I repeated, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Raincheck?”

He chuckled. “Raincheck.”

“We can still make out though, right?”

“Absolutely,” he answered, pressing me back into the wall and wasting no time reconnecting our lips.

It wasn't until Patrick rounded the corner and quickly covered his eyes with a disgruntled groan. “God, can a man use the toilet without havin' to see his sister doing… that?”

With haste, Jake and I fixed our clothes and bashfully leaned against the wall. “Sorry, Pat.”

He walked past us, shaking his head. “I don't wanna see none of that when I walk back out. Get a room or something.”

The rest of the night was filled with laughter and too many shots, but it was good. As we played our shitty drinking games and teased one another I was blissfully content. All thoughts of the restaurant, the painting, Rada, Tony… It was pushed so far into the back of my mind that it was nothing more than a blurry memory.

As Jake walked Quinn and me to my apartment I noticed how relaxed she seemed. Even in my slightly drunk state, I recognized how the tension seemed to have lifted from her shoulders as she walked beside Jake with a smile. She felt safe with him and it made my chest feel warm and fuzzy. When we reached my door, she turned and hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he replied, awkwardly patting her head. “I mean it.”

“I know.”

Giving them both a fond look I pressed one last kiss to Jake's lips. “Goodnight, tough guy. Try not to get beat up on your way home.”

He chuckled. “I'll do my best.”

“Tell our cat goodnight from me!”

“Goodnight, Lena,” he hollered as he walked down the sidewalk.

Inside Quinn and I flopped onto my bed, both tossing and turning, fighting over the blanket to try and get comfortable. “Hey,” I whispered as we both finally settled. “What happened tonight?”

She snuggled into the pillow and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Lee.”

“Quinn-”

“Seriously,” she replied quickly, a smile tugging at her lips. “My big brother took care of it.”

Even in my inebriated state, I didn’t need to ask who she was talking about. The answer was clear. I smiled and closed my eyes. “Jake’s good at that.”

“Yeah, he is.”

Jake stood in front of the bar, watching the workers closely as they situated the lights. Mr. Hiragana and I walked through the space of the new restaurant, now finally cleared of garbage and wreckage. It looked bigger than it had, but that might've just been how the fixed walls and proper lighting made it feel. “So,” the man beside me began, “I assume you and your colleagues have discussed the design of the space?”

“We have,” I answered, again glancing at Jake. “Scott doesn't care either way, so long as the kitchen is big enough with new appliances. Jake wanted full control of the bar.” With a smile, I handed him the simple sketches I’d done. “And you know me, I'm the one with the vision.”

“Of course,” he agreed, eyes carefully looking over the pages with a smile. “Your visions never cease to amaze me, little fish.”

Nudging him with my elbow I smiled. “So, you think it's doable?”

“It is fairly simple.” Handing the papers to the lead on the project they exchanged a few words before he patted my hand and looked around the room. “This will be the pride of the city when all is said and done.”

“That's ambitious,” I said with a laugh. “The big apples got a lot of gems.”

Nodding Mr. Hiragana said again, “And this will be one of them.”

With a tilt of my head and a soft smile, I squeezed his hand. “Were you always this optimistic?”

“Only after I met you,” he replied, squeezing my hand back.

“Was I ever this optimistic?” A sad feeling took root in my chest as I looked around at the clean slate. “It feels like so long ago that I had something like this… A dream.”

Mr. Hiragana nodded, his thoughtful eyes never leaving my face as he answered, “You have been through much these years we have been apart. You have changed… Grown not only in body but in mind. The little fish I met at that hotel so many years ago is not the same one that stands before me now. You have known sorrow, fear, loss.” With a proud gleam in his eyes, he nodded more assuredly. “And in spite of it all, you have survived. It is normal to lose one's optimism after such a trying journey. But, one day you will find it again.”

“You've grown wiser in our time apart,” I deduced.

With a deep laugh, he shook his head. “In some ways, I suppose. All that live to be my age have some wisdom to depart onto younger ears.” With a glance at Jake, he smirked. “Though, some of that wisdom is repeated words said by a much wiser voice than mine.”

“How do you mean?”

“Slowly, then all at once.” His words made everything still as Rada's bright smile and tender kiss on my head warmed me. Mr. Hiragana smiled again. “This is what she always said when encouraging you to follow your heart, yes?”

My eyes drifted towards the bar where Jake paced behind the wooden bartop. His eyes darted back and forth, memorizing the space he'd claimed as his and visualizing whatever it was his mind had thought up for it. For a split second, it was like I too could see that bright image he had in his head. A bar with soft lights and glittering bottles, pictures of everyone that mattered littering the wall behind it. A place that felt lavish and expensive without being so snooty and uptight. A place to feel at home.

Then that all vanished as his head turned and those blue eyes pierced mine. The vision faded from his mind, replaced by another… Less focused one. That wicked gleam shined like the sun over water as his tongue darted out to wet his lips and his eyes lazily moved down the length of me. Sinful. That was the only word I knew that properly described him as I broke eye contact with him and cleared my throat.

“Thank you.” I looked back up at him, ignoring the knowing look he gave me in return, and bowed my head. “For helping me find my way.”

He bowed his head in return. “You have always known your way, Little Fish. I have simply reminded you of it.”

I glanced at the time and bowed again. “We should be going.”

“I look forward to our next meeting.” He squeezed my hand one last time. “They would be proud of you.”

After leaving the crew behind to work on the building Jake and I headed to work. We made small talk about the progress of the restaurant, a subject Jake was still clearly uncomfortable with. “Mr. Hiragana says we'll probably be able to open before next years up.”

Jake stiffly nodded, eyes still staring straight ahead. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” I answered, watching him carefully. “So, how are you feeling about the whole thing?”

“Fine.”

I reached out and stopped him mid-step, my hand carefully laying on his arm and encouraging him to look at me. “Jake.”

He shook his head and sighed, “I feel fine. Excited… But… It's… It's just a lot and it's complicated.”

“Anything I can do to help?” I asked with a tender tilt of my head.

“No, I don't think so.”

I shrugged. “Well, I give you full permission to be an asshole about restaurant shit while you figure it out. That help?”

Jake chuckled, visibly pleased with the idea of an asshole pass. “Maybe a little.”

“Good,” I beamed back as the heavy cloud of tension dissipated and the rest of our walk felt normal again. It wasn't until we entered 22West that the weight of everything came crashing down over me all over again.

A new painting hung on the wall, not one nearly as painful to look at, but another all the same. The light blues of the waves gradually faded into black as the painting shifted focus from the boat - my mother's boat - to the nothingness that lurked beneath the water. My heart dropped into my stomach, twisting and tightening until it was nothing more than a ball of iron filling my stomach with dread.

The clinking of silverware felt louder that family meal than any other, at least it did to Jake. He sat next to Lena, whose eyes hadn't left the painting since they'd arrived. It was a simple image of a boat and the ocean depths, but he knew what it really meant to her… Some of it anyway. As his eyes passed between the painting and Lena's emotionless face, Jake wanted nothing more than to ask the question that hung on the tip of his tongue.

Why does this make you feel so afraid?

His best and only guess was that it had something to do with Anthony… Something to do with the three years that Lena tried her damnedest to never focus on. But, in that curious, protective way of his, Jake wanted to know more. He wanted to understand the situation fully so he could at least make an attempt to lessen the impact of it.

They had been the only two that hadn't already gotten dressed in those hideous shirts, having been late to oversee things at the new restaurant space, and as they changed in the quiet of an empty locker room Jake felt relieved no one else was here. The apprehensive, almost avoidant air around Lena never once lifted as he turned to look at her. “You okay?”

She didn't even glance at him when she answered, “It's just… A lot…”

He found it ironic that her words – her feelings mirrored his so perfectly. Any other time it would have made him chuckle, but right now all he wanted was to make her feel better. The panic in her voice as she screamed at him to get out the other day had made him feel physically sick. Seeing her using pain to somehow try to ignore the memories made him feel even worse. Jake wanted - needed - to help her.

“So take it out on me,” Jake suggested, her words from their walk circling around in his head as he closed his locker.

“What?”

“All that shit you're holding onto, take some of it out on me.”

“I'm not gonna do that.”

“Why not?” He asked with a hopeful smirk. “Like me too much?”

“Less and less each minute,” she weakly joked.

“Let's play a game,” he offered. “We go back in time tonight to before we became friends. I'll be my charming self and you can be a bitch.”

“Jake…”

Pushing himself off his locker he chuckled. “Oh come on, princess. Have some fun. Play a game with me.”

Shaking her head Lena finally nodded. “Alright, fine, I'll play.”

Jake smirked down at her. “See ya downstairs, Lana.”

“See ya, jerk.”

Tonight was gonna be fun.

“Behind,” Jake deadpanned for the third time tonight, the mischievous glow in his eyes the only thing giving away his true emotions. “Watch where you're standing, Lana.”

He’d been purposefully waiting until I’d stepped up behind him to turn directly into me and pretend to be annoyed. Part of his “game”. I'd been skeptical of his plan and it’d taken me a minute to adjust to the amped-up brand of his usual asshole behaviors, but once I did I actually found the whole thing… Fun… “Watch where you're walking, jerk.”

Jake slid out of the kitchen with nothing more than a smile. Everyone around us looked confused, but shocking none of them said a word. Isaac and Scott gave me the occasional questioning look, likely expecting me to explain it later. I didn't care about any of that though. I didn't care about the new painting or the past it dug up. I didn't care about Tony's obvious involvement. All I cared about was thinking up a new snarky comment to hit Jake with the next time I saw him.

I continued to switch between line and dish before moving to help restock the bar. Jake saw me the second I left the kitchen with the two bottles in my hand and slid to stand in the middle of the bar space, shaking his cocktail. “Sorry, I need the room.”

“Idiot,” I mumbled under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear me as I pressed my chest up against his back to slide past him. “Good thing for you I don't mind getting up close and personal.”

“Lucky me,” he replied, pursing his lips as he watched me bend over to grab the now-empty rack for the glasses.

He slid the drink to the guest who had ordered it and quickly turned, putting his body directly behind mine so I'd run into him when I stood up. I played into his hand and with an exaggerated eye roll I mimicked his words, “Behind.”

“Sorry,” he taunted. “I was just admiring the view.”

“I'm just surprised you have the time to admire anyone else's ass when you're so obviously in love with your own.”

Chuckling he let me pass. “I assure you, an ass like yours puts mine to shame, princess.”

“How flattering,” I deadpanned. “Save some of that charm for the people dumb enough to pay you, pretty boy.”

The night dragged on, but I hardly noticed how long it really was. Once the guests had vacated the dining room everyone drank themselves into a better mood. Nicky left early, leaving Jake and me to close the bar down. Next to me, Jake finished counting his tips with a click of his tongue, “Only four hundred tonight.”

“Well,” I sarcastically remarked, putting a bottle back in place. “Looks like tonight's gonna be a big fat bust. If only there was a way you could salvage your wounded ego.”

“Wanna know what I think?” He asked, ignoring my taunt as he side-eyed me. He poured Heather's drink into a to-go cup with a thoughtful grin.

“Desperately,” I answered in that slightly mocking tone he was known for.

Jake slid the cup to her and watched the group start to leave. “I think I should snag us some food from the kitchen while you grab a bottle from the wine cellar,” he turned and looked me up and down, reminiscent of how he had in the beginning. “Then we meet at my place in a half hour.”

The look in his eyes told me exactly what his words didn't, but I still wanted to hear him say it. With a coy smile and a tiny step too close, I asked in a light, teasing tone, “Like a date?”

“If that's what you wanna call it,” he replied just as teasing, but both of us could pick out the genuine nature in each other's words.

My heart did a flip inside. For the first time since the painting had arrived 22West felt like it should. It felt like just another space, one I didn't feel paranoid or anxious in. Jake was there, standing in front of me, inviting me to spend the night with him… Inviting me to forget about anything and everything else. Mr. Hiragana’s words - Rada’s words - echoed in my mind. “Slowly, then all at once.”

“It’s a date then,” I answered, a sudden hopefulness, or maybe blind courage, refusing to let old fears rob me of this - of anything else with Jake.

That cocky grin of his made me roll my eyes as he kept up the persona of that asshole-ish self we’d be toying around with all through service. “See you there, Princess.”

“Don’t get too cocky, pretty boy, or I’ll stand you up.”

Jake chuckled and shook his head. “No, you won’t.”

God this shouldn’t be so fun. “Won’t I?”

He bent his head down, crowding my space and letting his eyes shamelessly roam down to my cleavage. “You want this too bad to stand me up.”

I replied through the feeling of heat rising up my neck. “You seem confident about that.”

“I am confident,” he answered, tugging his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. “That’s the point of this game, isn’t it? We pretend to be the assholes we were to each other when we first met so we can finally just say what we really mean?”

Though I hadn’t seen the game that way before, it clicked the second Jake had said it. Everything that had happened the past few days… Thanksgiving, the bar, tonight, one thing after another after another after another all getting in the way of what I, we, wanted and dreaded more than anything. The conversation. The admittance. The game had given me - given us both - the courage to just come out with it, to commit once and for all to an action. A date. “You’re right.”

Jake smirked even wider, cocky and dickish as he leaned in closer, tilting his head ever so slightly in that smart-ass kind of way. “Am I?”

“Don’t ruin it.” I carefully pushed against his chest and took a step back. “Now, excuse me. I have an expensive bottle to steal.”

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, just low enough that I couldn’t be totally sure he’d even said it. He watched me turn and walk away, the burning feeling of his eyes on me only making my heart beat faster in my chest.

Down in the chilled wine cellar, I stood, staring at the shelves, as my mind caught up with my body. A date. Holy shit. This is a date. I glanced down at my plain attire and shook my head. “Nope.” Digging my phone out of my pocket I moved forward, scanning the bottles on the shelves as the line rang.

“Hello?” Quinn sang into the phone.

“Where are you?”

“Wow, not even a hi, how’s it going?”

“Quinn, no time!” I replied, hurriedly. “I need an outfit.”

She made a curious noise over the phone. “What for?”

“I…” A stupid gin made my cheeks burn as I answered, “I have a date.”

“Are you two finally calling your one on one time, a date?” Quinn inquired with a light teasing tone. “How bold of you.”

“Shut up, do you have something I can wear or not?”

With a sigh, I could hear her as she started flipping through her rack of clothes. “If you want my professional opinion, showing up in nothing at all would be your best option.”

Rolling my eyes I finally found the bottle I'd been searching for. “Quinn…”

“Fiiinnee, I've got a few options. See you in ten?”

“Sounds good, thank you!”

“Det-”

“Details as payment, I know Q.”

Bottle in hand I hurried up the stairs, saying goodnight to the dish crew as they finished changing and headed out into the chilled air. My steps felt both lighter and heavier as I walked beneath the neon lights and moved around the slow crowds. I tried not to focus on what this meant… On the obvious expectation that both Jake and I had at this point, but that was practically impossible.

We'd already done everything else, a fact everyone was keen on reminding us. We'd kissed and touched and whispered heated words. Jake and I were far past any normal friendship. We had been for a while. Yet, there we were using games to commit to an actual date. There we were coming up with some kind of excuse to meet at his apartment where things were bound to go a very specific way.

Are we even going to get to open this bottle? I wondered, nails picking at the fancy label. Or is he going to just kiss me the second I walk in? The vivid and tantalizing image of him pulling me into his apartment and pressing me into his front door filled my brain. Am I going to be able to not kiss him first? Another valid question.

Quinn's apartment wasn't far from Ozzy's or the club. She lived a few blocks up the way in a modest one-bedroom place she'd busted her ass to afford back in the day. The old, sun-faded brick shifted to peeling wallpaper as I made my way inside and up the creaking staircase to the third floor. The second door down the hallway, the only door not decorated with scuff marks from people's shoes.

Ari was waiting to open the door with a wide smirk. “TIGER!” She purred, pulling me inside the dimly lit warm space and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I heard you have a daaaaattteeee.”

Quinn's apartment was always in some state of chaos. Shoes were tossed around, blankets hung off of every soft surface and her makeup and hair supplies were scattered around her place like hidden gems. She liked it this way, liked the way it made things feel crowded and lived in. Having grown up with nothing Quinn collected things and held them close like a slutty magpie.

The warm lights from her lamps lit up the living space, where it appeared I'd interrupted a dinner date. Quinn emerged from her bedroom to the left and helped peel Ari off me with a loving look and teasing in her eyes. “It's not a big deal remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Ari giggled. “Just two friends hanging out late into the night.”

“You two are the worst,” I grumbled, setting the bottle down on Quinn's counter. “So, any good choices?”

With an offended look, Quinn waved me into her bedroom. “As if you need to ask.”

Ari looked at the bottle with wide eyes and a huge grin. “Thief!” She gasped. “I love you!”

“Don't open it,” I called out to her. “If there's any left tomorrow I'll bring it up to you guys.”

Quinn's eyes widened and she practically vibrated as she hopped onto her bed among the outfits she'd pulled from her closet. “Is this gonna be an overnight date?”

“Maybe,” I answered, trying not to let my excitement or my terror change my voice.

“Oh my god, are you gonna let him take your V card?”

I nudged her leg, almost sending her off the bed. “My V card's been gone for a while Q.”

She shook her head. “It's been over a year since that cards gotten punched in. It counts.”

“Outfits,” I sighed, changing the subject.

“Well now that I know it's a slumber party,” she rummaged through her pile of clothes and pulled out a little black dress. “This is what you're wearing.”

“I don't get to try anything else on?”

“Nope!”

With a groan, I grabbed the dress from out of her hands and stomped out of her room towards the bathroom. “Why did I even ask for your help?”

“Because I'm the best!” Was her loudly overjoyed reply.

Once I'd closed myself into the small bathroom with old checkered floor tiling and the tiny pink sink I looked at the dress she'd chosen. It wasn't ugly or too gaudy. It was simple, black silk with a modest hem of lace around the top and bottom. The spaghetti straps were thin, but I was just thankful there were straps at all… Or a dress at all for that matter.

I took my time sliding it on, stuffing my bra and other clothes under the sink until I could come back and get them. In Quinn's mirror, I fluffed my hair and fixed my makeup, trying to focus on the excited feeling in my chest instead of the anxious ball in my stomach. This isn't a big deal. It's just Jake.

Just Jake… As if that had ever been true.

Unveiling the dress to Quinn and Ari resulted in the two catcalling me for five minutes. “God damn!”

“It's about time you let those girls out to play again!” Ari laughed, looking at my boobs. “No bra too? Jakey's a lucky boy tonight!”

“I'm leaving my clothes under your sink,” I told Quinn as I gathered my things and grabbed the bottle off the counter. “Thanks for the dress!”

“No problem! Have fun being a slut tonight!”

Flipping her off I left the apartment, trying to calm my nerves with each step forward. It wasn't a big deal. It was just Jake. This was just a date.

Jake had spent a solid ten minutes meticulously opening and cleaning each of the oysters he'd grabbed from the kitchen. He'd found a niceish plate to put them on and shooed his cat off the counter. Then he'd started truly freaking out.

Lena was on her way with whatever bottle she'd grabbed. They'd drink, eat, and then the inevitable would happen. They’d share a look. He'd touch her or she'd touch him and from there they'd be unable to stop themselves from checking off their list of rainchecks all in one go.

He turned on a movie, the first movie his hands could find, and he cleaned. It wasn't really an effective way to keep his mind off the possibilities that were at this point all but certainties, but he still did it. Maybe it was, to keep his hands busy or maybe he just felt self-conscious about Lena returning to his space.

By the time she knocked on his door, everything was clean and ready. Everything except for him. Do we continue our game? He asked himself, hand hovering over the doorknob. Would that make things easier or would that just make me seem like an asshole?

Opening the door he came face to face with her fluffy red hair and tempting lips and… Fucking hell. The little black dress she wore hugged her body in all the right places, showing off her lean shoulders and peaked nipples. He hadn't expected her to change. Lena smiled, that nervous smile that made the corners of her lips twitch and held up the bottle. “I hope you like champagne.”

Say something. Anything. And say something he did. “You're late.”

Asshole it is I guess.

Thankfully Lena just rolled her eyes and leaned against his doorframe. “Aw, did I keep you waiting?”

“A little,” he said, clearing his throat as he moved to let her in. “It’s been a damn chore keeping this cat off the oysters.”

As if Jake had bribed him to, Hemingway made a not-so-sneaky break for the plate on the counter. Jake jumped, intercepting him just in time. The cat hissed and angrily swatted Jake's arms as he carried him to the sofa. From his kitchen, Lena laughed. “I'm sorry. If I'd have known you were in a heated standoff with the cat I would have hurried.”

He shrugged his shoulders, casually making his way back to the kitchen. “So, champagne?”

“One of the more expensive bottles of it,” she promised, handing the bottle to him for inspection.

Jake barely looked at it, focusing more on her. She looked nervous, but the good kind. The kind that told him she was comfortable being here on this date with him. That was all he could ask for - all he wanted. He'd only take the night as far as she was comfortable with, but judging by the look in her eyes Jake was confident she wanted things to go the same way he did.

So, he grabbed a pair of his shitty glasses from the cupboard and started to open the bottle. She arched her brow. “Not even gonna look at it?”

“I trust your taste in drinks.”

“Even after I gave you nothing but shitty ones that one night?”

Jake chuckled, popping the cork and nodding at her. “Even after that.” He poured her a glass and slid the plate of oysters between them. “So, how’s Quinn?”

Lena blushed, glancing down at her dress. “Was it that obvious?”

“Mhm,” he replied. “I've seen Quinn dress you up enough times to recognize her work.”

“Well, what do you think?” She asked, taking a step back and raising her arms to give him a full view of her.

What did he think? As if she didn't already know every single thought ran through his head. Jake could have voiced any of the lewd things - god knew he'd done that thousands of times before - but instead he found himself answering more sincerely, “I think you look perfect.”

My question had been simple, given how well I knew Jake and how his dirty mind worked. It was simple. Ask an obvious question about the very sultry dress Quinn had given me and received an equally obvious dirty response. Simple. Casual. And not at all what Jake said.

“I think you look perfect.”

Perfect. That wasn't a word I was used to hearing, especially when it came to me. Yet this would mark - at least - the second time Jake had used it. Butterflies filled my stomach, filling me with that fuzzy feeling of warm tingles. If it had been anyone else using that word I would have known exactly how to respond. Bullshit. But, I knew he meant it. The look in his eyes, the hint of a real smile, the way he looked just as surprised as I did.

Jake thought I looked perfect.

“So, how do you like your new TV?” I asked turning my now blushing face away from him to look at the bright screen where Egon and the rest of the Ghostbusters were quietly playing out their scenes. My face burned even hotter as I remembered Halloween… Remembered how good Jake had looked dressed as Egon. Maybe he still has that costume? “Ghostbusters?”

“It's a good movie,” he defended, but the wicked gleam in his eye told me he was thinking the same as me.

Smirking, I shrugged. “Woulda thought you'd turn on Romeo and Juliet.”

With a smirk, Jake nodded, “Also a good movie.”

I used the heated tension humming between us as an opportunity to take the first oyster. The salty taste washed over my tongue as I examined the slightly shiny shell in my hand. “So, what's your plan, pretty boy?”

“Am I supposed to have a plan?” He asked with a chuckle.

“I mean I'd think so, after your very confident invitation at work.”

Jake shrugged, taking a moment to enjoy an oyster. “Honestly, I just wanted to be around you.”

“You couldn't be around me at Ozzy's?”

“Okay… I wanted to be around you alone. That better?”

I hummed, beaming at his admission. “Yep.”

He rolled his eyes, casually pushing the plate out of Hemingway's reach. “Don't sound so smug, princess. You were dying to come be alone with me.”

“Hardly!” I argued - lied.

Jake stepped around the counter, placing his body flush up against my own and giving me that look. “Hardly? So you don't want me to do this?”

His fingers skimmed up my exposed thigh, dragging the lace hem of the dress up. I gulped, my eyes shifting to his lips without a second thought. “I want you to do whatever you wanna do.”

“Oh, come on, princess. You can do better than that.”

Fuck it. “I… want you… To kiss me.”

He lifted his hand, fingers grazing the side of my neck as he carefully tilted my head up even more. Our lips brushed against each other, a sigh of anticipation hot on our mingled breaths, and then… Darkness.

The lights cut out, casting Jake and me in complete darkness. Outside horns honked and the chaos told us both that the block - hell maybe even the city, had just shared our experience. Jake’s hands drifted to my shoulders, holding onto me for a moment as he adjusted to the dark. “Of fucking course.”

I swallowed my disappointment and forced a chuckle out of my dry throat. “Don’t suppose you've got any candles on hand?”

“I think I have a few,” he answered. “Let me get a lighter or something.”

Jake stumbled around in the dark until he reached his jacket, pulling the cigarettes and lighter out. The flame did little to light the room, but after a minute of searching his bare cupboards, he found what little he had in candles. I could see the tension in his shoulders almost as clearly as the sour purse of his lips. “Hopefully it's not the whole city.”

“Yeah.” He answered through clenched teeth as handed me the lighter. “I'm gonna go see if anyone outside knows what's going on.”

“Okay,” I replied, watching him go. “I'll light these I guess.”

I stared into the flame as I held the lighter to the wick of the candle and let out a defeated sigh. It's always something. Betting lesbians, a money-hungry Russian, the past, the future… Maybe it was a sign. Maybe the universe in its infinite wisdom was trying to tell us we weren't good together.

The wax dripped over the edge of the candle as I held the light to it. “Bullshit.”

Fuck the universe, I decided. Fuck the past or the future. Fuck everything that tries to tell me what I want.

I wanted Jake. Physically, romantically, in any and every way that he would have me. I wanted him. And tonight was going to be the night whether the city or the universe liked it or not.

I carefully lit the remaining candles, illuminating his apartment just enough to see the outline of his furniture. As I set the last down on the counter I leaned over to give Hemingway a reassuring pat, all the while trying to hold onto the newfound courage making my stomach twist into knots. “It's alright.”

The cat seemed to release some of his tension, using my distracted state to snag an oyster and take shelter in the bathroom where he decided to hide in Jake's open laundry bin. As I quietly chuckled at the way the tips of his ears poked out of the top, and the ferocious noises he made dining on his stolen meal, the apartment door opened and slammed shut as Jake returned. With a silent curse, he threw his jacket and shoes off to the side. “Well, nobody knows shit, but everyone's expecting the power to be out for the rest of the night at least.”

“Damn,” I remarked, trying not to talk myself out of taking action. “Right when your plan was just starting to work.”

It was a flirtatious little taunt, wholeheartedly meant to shift Jake’s focus from the unexpected interruption and back to the fact that we'd been on the verge of a kiss when the lights went out. Sadly, that didn't happen. Instead, Jake continued to grumble, scouring his shelf for a pack of cigarettes and then his lighter, which I still held. “Damn, where the fuck did it go?”

I watched him search for a minute before holding up the object he sought with a smug smirk. “Looking for this?”

He turned to look at me, face set in a grumpy scowl as he lifted the candle off the coffee table and held the flame to the end of his cigarette, lighting it. “Nope.”

“Suit yourself,” I replied, bothered as I set the lighter down on the counter. “Now what?”

Flopping down on his couch Jake laughed humorlessly. “I don't have any board games we can play if that's what you're hoping for.”

“I’m sure we can think of something more interesting to do than play a board game.” Hint. Hint.

Jake rolled his eyes gesturing to the darkened apartment. “You're welcome to look around for something to do.”

DO ME! I wanted to shout at him. My eyes scanned the shelves, looking for something that could lighten Jake's pissy mood and somehow salvage the night. “Where's your camera?” I asked. “We could take some more pictures.”

“In case you didn't notice, we don't exactly have the best lighting for that,” he snarkily replied.

“So you wanna just sit in the dark and do nothing?”

“I'm doing something,” he answered, lifting up his cigarette.

“Well, maybe I wanna do more than sit and smoke.” Jake ignored my statement, staring at the wall in front of him with a bitter, disappointed look on his face. “Really? You gonna ignore me now?”

He glanced at me and shrugged. “You're more than welcome to find something to do.”

Idiot. After a moment of watching the angry puffs of smoke exhale from his lungs I pushed myself away from the counter and flopped down on the couch beside him with a frustrated sigh. Jake's eyes lowered to watch my boobs bounce with the movement. Of course, that'd be what cheers him up. “You know most people would be more concerned with entertaining their guests.”

It was like a light finally flicked on in his brain and with a suggestive raise of his brows and a not at all subtle smirk, Jake and I were back on the same page. Only now I felt like making him work for it.

"Oh, you want some attention?" He took another long drag of the cigarette, slowly sliding closer to me, closing the space between us. He was right there, just a head tilt away from my lips. He timed his head down, seeking me out, expecting me to make it easy.

“You're insufferable." I leaned back, crossing my arms - pressing my breasts up to really catch his attention. He breathed smoke out across my face with a light laugh and a smirk.

"You like it," he whispered, our noses bumping one another.

"This isn't something friends usually do," I said quietly, smugly. Resuming the game we had earlier, the game meant to make this easier, and now the game that I'd use to torture him.

Jake was more smug as he grinned back at me, his eyes dark with lust and sin that would put even the devil to shame. "Yeah, well, I don't want to be your fucking friend." For a split second that something real flashed in his eyes, a fleeting feeling or thought he didn't dare let himself hold onto for too long.

I sighed, that same wave of reality washing over me, forcing my heart to beat quicker and my mind to race with doubt. Moving my head back a little more I whispered the thought, the fear that had kept us from committing to this all along, "This is a bad idea."

He nodded, not in agreement, but in acknowledgment that this was the very fear he shared. Adam's apple bobbing, Jake's eyes dropped to my lips as he sighed, "One of my worst."

I wasn't prepared for the kiss, or the way his hand wound into my hair to pull me closer. Though, I should have been. Jake tasted like oysters and champagne, smoke and, and want. He pulled me effortlessly into his lap, coaxing my mouth open and tangling his tongue with mine to effectively silence that pesky thought in both our minds. He was addictive and he knew it. Smug bastard, he was.

Of all the times we'd kissed, this one felt the most like our first. Maybe it was because of the way he'd been acting like he had in the beginning, asshole-ish and reserved. Or maybe it was because we both knew this was it. There was no forgotten thing, no drunk Russian or nosey lesbians. It was just us.

This was it.

I pulled back slightly, my hand smoothing over his jaw as we both dropped the act and slowly started to abandon our fear in favor of that intimate thing that hummed between us. Still, I couldn't resist the taunt that slid off my tongue, "So, you don't want to be my friend anymore?"

Jake scoffed, pressing another kiss to my lips. "Stop talking."

"I thought you liked being my friend," I continued to tease, threading my fingers into his hair as his mouth moved down the column of my neck. I had to hold in a moan as his teeth tugged at the skin there.

"I like this better," he breathed out, smirking against my skin. His hands gripped my thighs and pulled me down further, rubbing our hips together in a way that sent pleasure up my spine. This time I couldn't contain the wanton moan. Jake chuckled. "Much better."

With a breathless huff, I pulled his hair until his head tilted back up to me. "Shut up."

“Oh,” he whispered breathlessly, lips pulling up into that cocky smirk of his. “Now you wanna stop talking?”

Before I could answer Jake had shifted, rolling me onto the couch beneath him. The new cushions were slow to yield to the weight of us, stiff but not uncomfortable. Above me, Jake's chain necklace dangled, glinting in the low moonlight as it kissed my lips just like he'd done seconds ago. He smirked down at me for a second before all the attitude and the teasing faded, leaving him just smiling down at me as he lifted a hand to my face.

His fingers traced my lips, gliding along my jaw. The swell of warmth… Of want made my chest constrict almost to the point of pain. Out of all the nights we’d spent together - out of all the things we'd already done - this moment was unlike all of them. I wanted him more than I could even understand and in some way… Through some invisible bond between us, I knew he felt the same.

I lifted my head off the cushion and chased his lips. “I wanna stop talking now.”

Jake's still smokey breath fanned across my face as he chuckled. “Okay, Princess. No more talking.”

Our mouths met again, eager and hungry. It was like the feeling of his velvety lips on me, of his hands stroking and squeezing, erasing every thought in my brain. Everything that wasn't him just suddenly didn't matter. Jake dragged his tongue down my neck, fingers tugging the straps of the dress off my shoulders so his lips and teeth could literally my collarbones with kisses and bite marks.

To my surprise he kept moving down lower and lower until his hands were tucked up my dress, pulling my panties off my legs. Jake bit into the meat of my thigh, dragging me down the couch until my ass was literally in his hands. I lifted my head just in time to catch a glimpse of his dark head of hair vanishing beneath my dress as he dove mouth-first into my pussy.

“Oh my god!” I squeezed in shock as his warm tongue lather over my clit. “Jake!”

His fingers squeezing my thighs and holding them open was the only answer I received as his tongue continued its skilled work. With my head pressed firmly to the cushions, I gripped onto his hair, lifting my hips in time with his tongue movements and chasing the pleasure he so shamelessly offered. “Yes! Oh, Jake, right there!”

His teeth grazed my clit, sending me spasming as I came. That didn't stop him though. Jake's tongue just kept licking and sucking, drinking up every ounce that I had to offer until I was practically vibrating beneath him. I pulled his hair harder, pushing him off me and quickly standing up. Before he could ask what I was doing I tugged at his shirt. “Take this off.”

The wicked grin he answered with glowed in the candlelight. “Not gonna say please?”

Reaching down I tugged on his chain, taunting him with an almost kiss. “Now.”

Humming Jake rose from his knees and lifted the shirt over his head, spreading his arms and lightly flexing. “Happy now?”

I raked my nails over his abdomen, instantly undoing his belt as Jake's hands started sliding my arms through the straps of my dress. “I'll be much happier when we're both naked.”

“That makes two of us,” he agreed with a groan as the dress slid off my body with no resistance. Jake's mouth fell open as he lifted his lands to tease my nipples. “God you're perfect.”

My fingers fumbled, head nearly falling back as the pleasure his touch brought spiked through me. “Jake.”

His body pressed closer to mine, forcing me to step back until the backs of my legs hit his bed. “Are you sur-”

I silenced him with a finger over the lips and a gentle reminder, “No more talking.”

Without any more chances to let my fear win out, I finished with his belt and zipper. Kissing down his chest I slowly sank to my knees, taking his pants and underwear with me until his hard, pulsing cock was dangling in front of me. Jake watched me press a few light kisses to the head of him as he carefully lifted his feet out of his jeans. His breaths stuttered as I licked him base to tip, swirling my tongue around him the way I knew he liked from the first time.

“Fuck,” he breathed, quickly taking hold of my face. “As much as I fucking love that mouth of yours princess… I wanna actually fuck you tonight.”

I grinned, kissing his cock again. “Later then?”

“Absolutely.”

Standing in front of him, I set my hands on his broad shoulders, leaning up to kiss him again. Jake's hands wound into my hair as he turned us, pulling me on top of him as he settled on his back. I shifted my hips and angled his cock perfectly allowing me to finally, slowly begin to sink down on top of him. Jake's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth falling open as a surprised, pleasured sound fell from between his lips. His hands scrambled over my waist, squeezing my flesh. “Fuck.”

The stretch wasn't painful, not after the care Jake had taken, but I found myself shaking. It felt so good. Finally having him inside me, the impressive dick his ego permitted me from ever complimenting, hit all the right spots. It'd been a year since I'd had sex, but already, I found myself questioning if anyone else had ever made me feel like this with nothing more than one tiny thrust.

Once I was fully seated on top of him I found my eyes closing, head tilting back as I enjoyed the simple feeling of him twitching inside me, breathing beneath me, holding me. “Holy shit.”

“You're not wasting any time,” he said, holding onto me like his life depended on it. “Got somewhere to be?”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” I replied, ignoring his teasing to lift my hips and bending over him. “So fuck me.”

Jake kissed me hard, setting one hand on the small of my back and using it to push me back down onto his dick. My sharp gasp broke our kiss and spurred my body into moving. Every thrust sent pure pleasure radiating through my body. Every noise Jake made was echoed by the ones I made. It was that word he'd kept saying. Perfect.

When my legs started to shake and my body felt heavier to lift in the fervorous up and down movements, Jake sat up. His tongue lathered over a nipple, earning another sharp sound from my throat, as his fingers traced up my spine and gently closed around the back of my neck. I could feel his lips curl up into a smirk as he pulled my nipple between his teeth. “Come on, princess. Don't stop.”

“Fuck,” I whispered, the desperate sound of his voice emptying my brain even more. “I… Oh god…”

“Don't tell me you're tired already,” he taunted, using his hands on my hip and neck to help lift and pull me. “We just got started.”

Grinding my teeth together to hold in the moan I bit back, “I should have guessed you'd be a pillow princess.”

Jake laughed, tilting his head up to kiss me again. “We can switch if you want.”

“Fuck you,” I answered breathlessly, my eyes punching together as the pleasure all began to build up inside me.

“That's what you're doing… Trying to at least.” He withdrew all attempts at helping me, returning his attention to my breasts.

“Jake,” I whined after what felt like hours. God, I'm out of Practice. Jake only hummed in reply to his name. “Please.”

More smug than ever he finally slid his hands to my waist and expertly flipped me onto my back. His sheets felt cold against my hot skin, but I hardly had a moment to focus on that when Jake wasted no time lifting one of my legs onto his shoulder and securing the other around his waist. “Try not to scream my name too loud, the neighbors tend to get mad about that.”

“You-” He thrust into me, the angle and the power behind it making sparks shoot up my stomach into my chest. “Oh fuck!”

“There you go,” he mumbled, fingers curling into the sheets by my head. “Let me hear those pretty noises.”

As he picked up the pace I realized I couldn't have denied his request even if I wanted to. Every noise I made echoed off the brick walls, every wet noise that his thrusts made only filled me with more fire. My fingers dug into his arms and clawed at his back as that coil in my gut wound tighter and tighter. “Jake,” I begged. “Don't stop!”

“Come on, princess,” he urged, pressing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss. “I wanna feel you.”

“Ah!” I could feel myself tighten around him, drawing out another moan from Jake's lips.

“Fuck!” He cursed under his breath. “That's my girl. Come on… Come for me, Lena.”

That, the fucked out, desperate, adoring uttering of my name was what made the coil in my gut burst. Fingers digging into Jake's hair, pulling his lips down against mine I came around him, shaking as he thrust again and again and again, fucking me through the orgasm and into another as he came with me. His body tensed and shivered as he kissed me through his orgasm, pulling away to let out a shaky breath before he collapsed on top of me.

My chest heaved beneath him as I stretched my fingers and carefully pulled them from his hair. “Holy… Shit…”

Jake carefully rolled off me, throwing the condom away and collapsing next to me. “We should have been doing that this whole time.”

“Definitely,” I agreed, twisting my head to look at him… Afraid of what I'd find in his eyes when I did. Had this been a mistake?

Jake was smiling, genuinely smiling at me. His eyes were light and sparkling as he pulled me into his arms and threw his blanket over us both. His lips kissed my shoulders and my jaw and even though we’d just spent the last hour or more fucking I felt that swell of want again. “You know, we could be in the dark for a while.”

“All night even,” he agreed. “You should definitely stay the night.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, kissing his lips. “And are you gonna… Entertain me?”

Nodding Jake traced the snake on my spine. “Of course. What kinda man would I be if I left you unsatisfied?”

It was going to be a long night. Long and sweaty and perfect.

Dom looked at the now entirely empty shop with a dead stare. His life's work was fucking gone, and it was all his fault. Desperate anger and a bitter, frustrated sorrow filled his lungs with a scream. He threw empty tool carts across the shop floor and kicked the side of the nearest car. Dom exploded, lashing out until he had to stop.

His back slammed into one of the cars, and he bowed low. Defeated. The sound of her light footsteps treading through his mess gave him some tiny hint of hope. He watched her carefully slide into place beside him, looking out at the empty space. "Sorry."

"Stop." He shook his head, glaring at her. "I hate it when you apologize when you did nothin’ wrong."

Sarah giggled, bumping her shoulder into his. "Sorry."

"You're the worst."

She looked around with an exasperated sigh. "They really did a number on the place, huh?"

Nodding, he slapped the side of the car they leaned on. "Fuckers even took the damn hub caps."

"You are gonna take care of this, right, D?" Her emerald eyes sparkled up at him, hopeful and innocent. His baby sister. "I don't wanna lose you like Eddie."

His jaw clenched at the mention of the name. "Yeah, I'll take care of it."

She held out her pinky with tears in her eyes. "You promise?"

Dom wrapped his finger around hers and sighed, engulfing her in a big hug. "Yeah, I promise."

When he opened his eyes, Dom could still feel the warmth of Sarah's embrace. His mind clung to the sweet moments they'd shared until the end - until the pain made him feel like he couldn't breathe. That sensation forced him upright, scrambling to grab hold of the drugs he'd left at his bedside. He wanted to forget. More than anything, he wanted the pain to stop.

Green eyes flashed in his mind. Hers and Lena's. He'd made them both a promise… A stupid fucking pinky swear. His fist tightened around the drugs as he forced himself to throw them across the room. "God dammit!"

"Well, ain't you just pathetic?”

Dom's head twisted to the door where Eddie lounged against the old frame. “The fuck are you doin here?”

Eddie shrugged, a heavy sigh following him as he sat in the cot opposite his. “It's her birthday today… Figured that's the kinda thing that warrants a temporary truce. We're family after all.”

“You're no family of mine,” he ground out.

Dom could see the hurt in Eddie's eyes, but as always he erased it with that goddamn smirk. “Feelings mutual, big brother. But, I ain't here for you. I'm here 'cause it's what she woulda wanted.”

“She doesn't get to want anything,” Dom said. “Not anymore.”

Eddie nodded, tensely. “Well, we both seem to have conflicting opinions about whose fault that is.”

“Get the fuck out!” Dom shouted, throwing himself to his feet to grab onto Eddie's jacket and throw him out the door. “You get the fuck out before I fucking kill you!”

“Oh, we both know how much you'd like that,” Eddie spat back, laughing in Dom's face. “Sibling killer that you are.”

It took four of his bikers to hold him back while Eddie waved off his men and left with a bitter curse in Spanish. After the noise of their car had gone, the bikers let him go and Dom was out the door. He needed some air. He needed some space away from this fucking warehouse… This fucking city.

There, illuminated in the golden rays of the rising sun, Mav sat on his bike, resting her head in her hands with a wide - real smile. Dom shook his head, forcing out the angry breath he'd been holding. “It's shit like this that makes everyone think you're a bitch.”

She just shrugged, that smile never faltering. “That a no to taking a joyride?”

“I could never say no to you.”

“It's one of the few things I like about you,” she teased, sitting up as he neared. The flippant, uncaring attitude fell for a moment as she asked, “You okay?”

Dom shook his head and answered with the truth, “No.”

Sliding back on the bike seat she patted the fine leather. “Come on then, big boy. Let's go for a ride.”

“Course, Mrs…. What is it now? Scott?”

Mav rolled her eyes. “As if I'd take that old fucks last name.”

With a chuckle, he smiled at her. “That's my Mav.”

“I'm not your anything,” she argued half-heartedly.

Dom threw his leg over the seat and settled in with her sweet smell and soft hands around his waist. He revved the engine and Mav's arms squeezed him tighter. “You'll always be my Mav.”

“Just drive the damn bike, Dom.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

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