#LONGING FOR LIMELIGHT AND NOT HOPE IN HELL ... DAMNED SOUL

[aadikted]

Winners Keepers

A/N - Ok so until now, I have mostly written on Peter Parker x Reader. But i just had to write on Nick Scratch. I know its Nabrina for life, but a girl can dream, cant she? Special thanks to @darkshadowqueensrule and @miniaturepizzadyedhairfreak​  for helping me and encouraging me! Hope you guys enjoy it! 

Pairing - Nick Scratch x Reader

Enemies to Lovers

W/C - Around 5k!!

Warnings! - Some explicit scenes (no sex) and a lot of snarky retorts!

Enjoy!!

~~~

You and Nick had gotten off to a particularly rocky start. Anyone who knew you knew that you could hold on to a grudge. When you had first met Nick, you had to admit that he was dashing, and you may have developed the tiniest crush on him. I mean, come on, you were a witch after all! But all those admiring thoughts flew out of your head as soon as he had opened his mouth. He was probably the most arrogant and cocky bastard you had the misfortune of meeting. He hadn’t said anything to you, but the way he spoke with the others, you just knew. This was just your first day at the Academy of Unseen Arts, but everyone already knew you. It was quite inevitable, after all, you were Sabrina’s best friend and she was pretty popular here, even if it wasn’t for the right reasons. Sabrina didn’t have this class with you, but you knew you would see her later. Meanwhile, all you could do was marvel at Nick and his big head.

As if sensing that you were staring at him, he turned around and looked at you. He cocked an eyebrow, “See something you like, Y/L/N?”

“Nothing worth seeing here, Scratch.” 

You knew you were treading dangerous waters, but you couldn’t help yourself. Both of you maintained eye contact with each other, as though you were under a spell, and suddenly the moment was broken by the entrance of Lady Blackwood. 

“Now students, I expect that you all have memorized the lyrics of the song?” 

“Good.” She exclaimed as all the students nodded.  “Miss Y/L/N, please sing the first verse.”

You could feel everyone's eyes turn towards you and you decided that it was better to die than being in the limelight. You could see the weird sisters looking at you. They looked like predators, just waiting to hound on the unassuming prey. But what really irritated you, was the way Scratch was smirking at you. Like he knew that he knew that you would fail. This ignited a fire inside you and you decided right then and there, that no matter what, you would never let that asshole have the satisfaction of seeing you fail. 

Taking a deep breath and steadying your nerves, you started singing- 

“It's time we put our love behind you 

The illusion has been just a dream 

The valley of death and I'll find you 

Now is when on a sunshine beam

So bring all the young perfection 

For there us shall surely be

No clothing, tears, or hunger 

You can see, you can see, you can be”

You gave yourself to music and the notes. You were so engrossed in your singing that you didn’t notice that Nick was staring at you. 

~

Nick was enthralled. Your voice had captured his soul and he felt...light, as though he was floating in the air. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought that you were a siren, lulling unsuspecting victims into your trap. Nick, would never admit this, but when he had felt someone staring at him, he had totally expected it would either be one of the weird sisters or some guy who didn’t like him. He never expected that he would be looking at you. He was rendered speechless by you. It was not your beauty that captured his eyes, but the way you carried yourself. Your eyes looked as though they could drown someone in its depths. Your stance declared that you would not kneel to anyone and your lips looked like they could kill with just words. He was unnerved by what you made him feel, and in an effort to seem cool he opened his damned mouth and released a string of words. 

“See something you like, Y/L/N?” 

He cursed himself as soon as the words left his mouth. There was no way that that was playing it off cool.

“Nothing worth seeing here, Scratch.”

Ah! He should have expected this. She had a mouth on her. This just made her seem more interesting. He was unable to take his eyes off her and their eyes met, as though in a match to see who would emerge victoriously. Before a conclusion could be reached, they were interrupted by Lady Blackwood. She asked Y/L/N to sing the first verse. 

This is going to be interesting. He thought to himself. He couldn’t help but smirk. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. Guess the confidence was just in her posture. 

Suddenly, she threw a look at him, and then, it was as though another spirit had entered her body. She gathered herself and prepared to sing. She looked captivating as hell and he could only stare at her. He imagined he looked quite ridiculous then. He felt ridiculous. But it was impossible to rip his eyes away from her. She demanded attention, even if she didn’t want it. And then, she began singing.

~

You held your breath as soon as you finished the song. It felt that if you took even a single breath then everything would come crashing down on you. However, Lady Blackwood had no such trepidation.

“Oh my! That was rather...well done.”

You finally allowed yourself to sigh in relief and looked around you. Your eyes caught Nick’s, but you diverted them as soon as they met and in doing so you missed the soft, admiring smile which graced his face.

Fortunately, the rest of the class passed without an incident, and you were practically sagging with relief as you made your way to the Cafeteria where Sabrina was waiting for you. 

���Y/N/N!” She exclaimed as she waved you over. “Survived your first day I see?”

“Hardly. Most of the classes went fine, but Singing was horrible!” 

‘Lady Blackwood? She made you sing too?”

“Yeah, by myself too! As if my crippling anxiety and awkwardness weren’t apparent enough. 

Sabrina let out a laugh and just shrugged as if to say, School can be the worst. You gladly agreed with that.

You both continued to talk about your day but were then interrupted by Nick. 

“Nick!” Sabrina happily exclaimed as you made a face upon his entrance.

“Hey ‘brina.”

“Y/L/N.” he acknowledged you with a nod

“Scratch.” You replied coldly. 

Sabrina finally caught up on the tension between you. Too scared to address it, she continued to talk as though nothing had occurred. However, you were too busy staring daggers at Scratch to even listen to what she was saying. From the looks of it, Nick wasn’t paying attention to her too. 

Sabrina finally gave up and decided to address the elephant in the room. 

“I gather you have both met before?”

“It would be hard to forget that meeting” You replied from with a grimace.

 Nick just ignored her question.

“I see you are just as pleasant as ever Y/L/N.”

“Couldn’t find any other table which could accommodate your big head, could you Scratch?” You casually replied as you turned away from him.

“You know, you should come with a warning label. So that people know that you are just as snarky as you are pretty.”

There was a beat of silence. Sabrina looked like she couldn’t breathe, while Nick looked horrified when he realized what he had just spoken. You, on the other hand, were downright gleeful at this opportunity.

“You think I am pretty, lover boy?” You smirked. 

“No, I just think you are pretty dumb.” He retorts in the most flustered and juvenile manner. 

You can't help the smirk which was growing on your face. You felt evil and you liked that. 

“Are you sure, lover boy? The only one dumb around here would be you. I did beat you in singing today!” You sniggered.

Pfft, please! That was just singing. You are nowhere near as capable as I am and you never will be. 

The way he said that angered you. How dare he insinuate that you were not as capable as him.

While these thoughts raced through your mind, Nick just stared at you in awe. He knew that he was getting on your nerves, but it excited him. The way your eyes flashed, how your expressions changed just as swiftly as the conversation. If you had been any other person, he would have asked you out immediately. But you weren’t any other person, and he liked that about you. What he couldn’t seem to figure out though, was why you were so angry and annoyed with him. He hadn’t done anything when he had first met you. Sure, he had said a couple of things now, but you had been aggravated with him long before that. He knew he would never be able to get close to you the way he wanted. To get you flushed for him. To make you scream his name in pleasure and to make you hot for him. But he knew that you would never allow that. At least, not yet. So for now, he had to be content in just seeing you flush out of pure rage, to hear you scream his name from frustration and get hot and bothered by him. 

His thoughts were interrupted when you stood up and slammed your hand on the counter. Fortunately, it wasn’t loud enough for the other students to take notice. However, you couldn’t care less even if the entire world could hear your proclamation. 

“I warn you Scratch, you will be begging for mercy before the year is through and you will regret ever saying that I wasn’t as capable as you.”

“I assure you, darling, I won't be the one begging.”

If looks could kill, Nicholas Scratch would have been one very dead man. 

“Dream on, lover boy.”

“Is your drama going to have an intermission soon, darling?” Nick teased.

You just gave him an evil smile, 

Oh lover boy, the curtains haven’t even risen yet. 

~

You had meant every word you had said to Nick that day and you were adamant to prove that to him. You studied hard and practised every spell you could get your hands on, even the ones which weren’t in the syllabus. You were the youngest in the school, and Nick had been there for such a long time. You would be damned if you couldn’t beat him. 

Nick knew that you had been perfectly serious and had no intention of losing without a fair fight. He also started studying and revising. 

There was an undeniable shift in the air between the both of you. There was palpable tension and everyone could feel it. The competition between you just continued to grow and everyone was roped into it. Sabrina was shocked to see you so serious, but you were her best friend and she supported you. She became your study partner and you both tackled studies together. 

You and Nick spent most of your time in the library studying, Sabrina had other things to deal with, and you didn’t force her to join you. However, you would have preferred it, especially since lover boy had decided to torture you more by sitting next to you in the library. You never conversed with him, even if he tried to. 

One such day, you were doing your work in the library when you were interrupted by Nick.

“Your solution is wrong.”

“Funny. I don’t remember asking for your help.” you snarked back.

“Come on Y/L/N, wouldn’t it be just easier if we tried to get along?”

“No, and you shouldn’t even be here.”

“Why not,” he asked

“Because I don’t want you here.” 

Nick gave a sigh of resignation and just left the library. He really liked Y/N, and so he couldn’t bear to see her working herself to death.

You felt a twinge of guilt as you watched him leave. Maybe you had been too harsh, but you couldn’t help it. You had to pass. Failing wasn’t an option

The next day, you went to class with a determined stance. You would prove it to him. Your hand shot up in the air to answer before the teacher had even finished asking the question.

Yes, Miss Y/L/N?

You confidently gave the correct answer and turned back to throw a victorious smile to Nick. But you were surprised to see that he had never raised his hand. Maybe he didn’t know the answer, you mused.

However, when the rest of the day passed in a similar fashion you knew that he was doing this intentionally. With each passing hour, you grew more and more frustrated until you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

It confused you, you couldn’t understand why you were so frustrated by this. You should have been happy that he had given up, cause that meant that you had won. But, this felt empty and bad. That was when you realized that it wasn’t the competition you had been craving, but him and his company. The realization that you actually liked that fucker hit you like a bolt of lightning. You suddenly couldn’t breathe and had to lean against the wall to support yourself. How could you actually like him!? He had constantly made stupid remarks and his ego was so inflated that you actually wondered whether he would burst! But, even as you thought that, you started thinking about how he was nice with everyone around him. He helped the slower students and he was always courteous with everyone. Maybe you had been too quick to judge him. Sure, he got on your nerves and constantly rubbed off your wrong side, but he hadn’t been mean to you. You took a shuddering breath as you realized how wrong you had been. You groaned as you realized that you now owed him an apology, but only for being mean to him first.  You would never apologise for trying to best him because that was something he was responsible for. Your feelings for him was something you didn’t want to address yet. It would fuck up your already fucked up life. 

As soon as the school ended you made your way towards the library and waited for Nick. When he started passing by the door you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him inside a secluded corner as you slammed the door shut.

The surprised expression on his face would have been rather comical, had you not been mad at him.

“What do you think you are doing!?” You practically growled at him.

“I honestly have no idea right now”

“Don’t play smart with me,” you snapped, “Why haven’t you been answering the questions?

“Because I don't care anymore!

Any thoughts you previously had about apologising to him flew out of your mind. 

“What do you mean you don't care anymore?” You inhaled sharply, “You started this entire thing!”

“I didn’t know that you were going to make yourself crazy over this!”

Why do you care whether I make myself crazy over this? You started it and you are going to finish it!

Nick just pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled, “I am not doing this Y/N.”

“Why did you start this then?”

“Because I didn’t know how else to get you to talk to me!” He finally shouted.

A queer silence descended between the both of you. He looked at you as though waiting to see your reaction. That was when you noticed how close you were standing to each other. Your bodies were practically touching, and your breaths were intermingling. You couldn’t stop your eyes from drifting to his lips. You lashes fluttered as you looked back up to him, only to see that he was staring at your lips too. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You rose on your tiptoes and kissed him. For a moment he didn’t kiss you back, and you felt like your hopes were drowning. Maybe he didn’t like you that way. But then, you felt his lips move against yours. Your hands weaved through his hair and his encircled your waist. You jumped off the ground and wrapped your legs around his waist, ankles crossed to support yourself. Your mouth never left his as he turned around and you felt your back hit the wall. It didn’t hurt you, but you just held him more tightly. Your tongues clashed and you could taste him on your mouth. His lips then left your mouth even though you didn’t want it to and he placed kisses on your neck. You both were heaving from breathlessness, but you didn’t let that deter you. You placed kisses on his cheek and felt his hands travelling up and down your waist ever so slightly brushing against the underside of your breasts. You threw your head back in pleasure as you felt him getting bolder and travelling further down your neck. His hands brushed against the sleeve of your top, but before he could push it down, the door flew open and you both parted as though struck by lightning. You turned around to see Sabrina staring at you with wide eyes. 

“What the fuck happened here?”

You tried to control your breathing, and you could see that Nick was doing that too. Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to explain the situation. 

Did he regret it? Did you overstep any boundaries? You had practically attacked him and did not even give him a chance to say. With every such thought, you were getting more and more horrified. Your feelings must have been written all over your face, and Nick easily read them, however, he thought that you were horrified at the thought of having kissed him. He felt as though someone had ripped his heart from his chest. In a quiet voice, he answered Sabrina’s question, 

“Nothing.”

Nothing. That word broke your heart. Nothing. That’s what you meant to him. Nothing. That’s what had happened between you two. Nothing. That’s what would ever happen between you two. That word conveyed more than enough about what you meant to him.

“I need to go.” You said, as your voice broke over the last two words.

You rushed out before anyone could see the tears streaming down your face. You could hear Sabrina following you out, asking you to stop. But you didn’t stop until you reached your home, where you finally broke down in the arms of your best friend

~ 

Nick watched in devastation as you rushed off. He thought that when you had kissed him, it was because you had actually felt something for him. But upon seeing your reaction when Sabrina stumble upon the both of you, he knew that it was pointless. With a sigh of resignation, he started making his way out of the room. Before he could do so, however, he was stopped by a hand on his chest. 

Well, well, well. Looks what the cat dragged in. Heard you and Y/N finally decided to fuck the life out of each other.

“You have the rest of your life to be a jerk, Agatha, why don’t you take the day off?”

“Ooh. Snarky! I like that.” Agatha exclaimed as she fingered the collar of his shirt. “Why don’t you forget about her and let me show you a good time?”

Nick’s patience was thinning fast. He grabbed her hands off his body. “I don't have time for this Agatha.”

“Fine,” she said as she smiled evilly. But don’t come running back to me or my sisters when that bitch leaves you.”

She turned around and left the room, leaving Nick alone to ponder about everything that had just conspired. 

~

“What happened Y/N?”

“I kissed him”

There was a beat of silence.

“And he kissed me back.”

More silence. 

“Say something.” You pleaded as you looked at Sabrina. You both were sitting on her bed. You didn’t want to be in your house with your snoopy siblings, so you had begged Sabrina to have this conversation at her home. Sabrina was naturally dying to know what had happened so she readily agreed. 

Finally, she spoke, “I thought you hated him.”

“I thought so too.” You sniffled, “but I guess I got so caught up in the stupid competition that I didn't even realize when my feelings for him started changing. But it doesn’t even matter now. He doesn’t like me back the way I do. I was nothing to him.”

Sabrina felt helpless as she looked at you. 

“You should forget about him. You deserve someone who actually likes and doesn't just use you as a pastime. You deserve more Y/N”

You knew that what Sabrina was saying was correct but you couldn’t forget about Nick so easily. You needed some time alone.

“You’re right,” you said as you stood up from the bed. “I do deserve more, I just need som-some time ’brina. I’ll see you tomorrow, kay?”

Sabrina just nodded as she watched you leave.

Back in your home, you took a bath trying to forget about everything that had happened today. You scrubbed your body as though trying to forget about how he had touched you. How his hands had roamed on your body. How his kisses felt on your skin. The way he had kissed you, the way it felt when you touched him. Needless to say, the bath hadn’t helped at all. You came out of the bathroom more frustrated than ever and as you crossed your room something caught your eye. You turned around and saw your reflection in the full-length mirror. It wasn’t your nakedness that made you feel vulnerable, but the marks that had been left on your body. Love marks, you realized. Your neck was peppered with his love marks and it just served to make you sadder. Your fingers brushed against the marks and you thought that you could still feel the way he had touched and kissed you. You were startled out of your daze when you heard someone say your name. 

“Y/N”

You were shocked to find Nick staring at you and for a moment you were frozen. It was only when you noticed him averting his eyes, did you remember you were naked. Gasping, you quickly wrapped your towel around your body and stared at him

“Nick! What-how are you here?”

“Well, I am not really here. I’m astral projecting”

“Praise Satan! You can’t just do that. I was naked when you came into my room!” 

“I did enjoy the view though.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

You felt your blood boil. He had no right to do that. To joke as though you were the best of friends, as though nothing had happened.

“Stop!” you practically screamed, “You, you can't just do that!” 

“Sorry, I was just trying to-”

“I know what you were trying to do.” you cut him off before you could finish. “But I mean nothing to you. You don’t get to kiss me and touch me and then just leave.” 

“You were the one who left.” He retorted

“Only because you said it meant nothing to you.”

“I didn’t mean that! Sabrina just startled me with her entrance and I said the first thing that came to my mind.” 

“Go away, Nick”

Nick inhaled sharply when he heard his name on your lips for the first time. 

“Why do you care so much about what I said”

“Does it matter?” You said resignedly “Why are you here?”

“To tell you that I don’t want to leave this time. 

You froze, worried that if you moved then whatever trance this was, would break.

“I want to go out with you. I want to kiss you and touch you. And I don’t want all that while we are hiding in the darkest corner of the library.”

You could hardly breathe. He wanted the same things that you did. If this was some kind of cruel trick then you would kill whoever was responsible. As you were thinking about that you realized that he had stopped speaking, waiting for your response

“Y/N, please, say something.”

Do you really want that? you said breathlessly like you couldn’t believe it.

“All of it. And all of you.” He smiled as he continued, “From the moment I met you, I was enchanted by you. Everything you did, captivated me. I wanted to talk to you but I was rendered speechless and somehow the first things that came from my mouth, were insults. Then, I guess you hated me and I knew that you would never talk to me. So, I tried to irritate you and mock you. I never meant to start this stupid competition but it was worth it if it meant that you would at least look at me, so I went along with it. Today, when you kissed me, I was afraid that if I stopped you would leave me. And then you did leave me. But I don’t want to leave now, not unless you want me to.” 

His entire monologue felt like a breath of fresh air. You felt like you could finally breathe again. As soon as he finished, he looked at you with hopeful eyes. 

A small smile graced your face, “I owe you an apology too. I judged you way too harshly, even before I knew you. During the entire competition, my only goal was to make you lose, but I couldn’t help but see how kind you were to everyone else. How intelligent you were and how much fun I had whenever we were competing. Every time I was away from you, I was craving for your snarky remarks and when you laughed that stupid laugh of yours whenever I said something even marginally funny. I don’t want to leave, nor do I want you to leave”. 

You were smiling so much that it hurt, but it was all worth it to listen to his laugh as you talked. There was a moment of silence when you finished speaking. 

“Do you really want all that?” He asked as if he still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“I do,” you confirmed. “I wish I could touch you right now.”

“Me too. Would-would you mind coming out to the academy right now?” He asked in an unsure tone, afraid that you would say no.

Your smile grew, even though you thought that wasn’t possible. 

“Race you to the tree on the boundary?”

‘You’re on!’

Nick vanished, and you gave a disbelieving sigh, still only partially convinced that all this was a real. You quickly grabbed and wore the clothes you had laid out, and rushed from the back door towards the academy. 

You hadn’t expected that you would reach the tree before him and therefore you weren’t surprised when you saw him waiting there for you. As if sensing that you were approaching, he turned around and his face broke into a smile. You rushed towards him and threw yourself on him, hugging him with all your might.

“I was half-convinced that I was dreaming.” You confessed to him.

“Dream of me a lot, do you?” He asked you in a teasing tone. 

You laughed and pulled back from the hug, and instead leaned in, joining your foreheads. “I’m glad you are still the same cocky bastard.”

He smiled at your teasing and grabbed your hand, weaving his fingers through yours.

“I like the way your hand fits in mine.” He said bashfully.

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him, “You know...I can kiss better than you, lover boy...!”

You felt him silently laugh against your lips, “We’ll just see about that, darling.”

~~~

Congrats! You reached the end! I hope you liked it! Feel free to leave me comments and send some asks and love!!

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Dragon Egg (Parts 4-6)

Long post because I neglected uploading for a few days. For @secrettunnelatla

It is all about fibs and careful twists. Change a few names and situations and suddenly Ozai is just a nameless man. A vague set of lyrics and verses on a page. A collection of words that shape the story of an abuser and his victim.

It is all the easier, picturing Zuko as the victim. Surely it can’t be her. Father treats her well; he has given her this recording studio. He has rewarded her for her three new singles with a newer car. He has given her nothing but praise for surprising him with so many new songs all at once.

Father buys her so many new stage outfits and lets her pierce her tongue and decorate it with genuine ruby. She has everything. He loves her. He is proud of her. It is only a hiccup, a lapse in judgment when he shows anything but affection. It is the alcohol that makes him smash the windows on her car. She doesn’t remember what he did it for but she knows that it was the alcohol because he has a brand new car waiting for her the next day.

And she drives it to Seicho’s house to deliver her birthday present. She will open the box and find a skateboard and tickets to see her show. Seicho is a delight and a somber presence all at once. In many ways, she reminds Azula of TyLee and that stings.

Sometimes she misses TyLee. Misses that sweet smile. Misses playing make believe in her backyard. Once upon a time, TyLee was going to be her drummer and they were going to tour from nation to nation in a bus with diamond studded tire caps. Once upon a time, she, Mai, and TyLee were going to be the rock trio that the world wouldn’t be able to forget.

And once upon a time, Mai decided that she liked Zuko more and TyLee decided that she liked Mai more. Zuko always had been the more lovable of the two. But Azula is the more successful. She has made a promise to herself that they would regret abandoning her for him when her faces is everywhere and Zuko is a sellout.

Seicho invites her inside, her friends are already there, a girl named Song, a girl named Jin, and a younger boy named Hide.

“Have a slice of cake or a whack at the pinata.” Seicho offers. She holds out a bat, wrapped with skull patterned duct tape and studded with nails. “You can have the first swing.”

Azula is sure that it would only take one good swing for the nails to shred the pinata. “I’ll have a slice of cake. I can’t stay for too long. I have a show.” There is a part of her, a very large part of her that wants more than a taste of this world. A simpler world where goals and aspirations aren’t make or break. “But I had to drop this off for you.”  The skateboard in the box is expensive, it is more than enough to make up for not being able to stick around for the party.

Seicho’s face falls and Azula tells herself that it is only because she hasn’t unwrapped the gift yet. She knows that the smile is forced when she replies, “thanks, Azula. Maybe you can join us next year.”

Regret doesn’t hit her in full until she has already stepped back into her car. By now it would only be rude to change her mind and ring the doorbell again. Maybe this is why it was so easy for TyLee to choose Mai and for Mai to choose Zuko; she tends to choose her career over companionship.

She promises herself that after Audio of Agni, she will make more time for social obligations.

.oOo.

The stage doesn’t quite have its thrill tonight. The energy itself is excitedly frantic, vibrant with enthusiasm but it doesn’t quite reach Azula. It doesn’t matter, she is good at pretending. She knows what she is supposed to feel like--she has felt it before when the band was brand new, when Mai and TyLee were her backup vocalists.

So she emulates the vibe she is supposed to give off. She pretends like the crowds cheers and shouts and claps mean everything. She pretends like their liveliness gives her life too. Pretends like she can feel the music in her body and soul the same way everyone else does. But she only feels empty.

Empty and alone. A disorienting feeling when she is looking upon more faces than she can count.

All the while she sings lyrics that make her stomach squirm and her heart ache. If her father knew that he is the inspiration behind them, she’d have another song to write.

She doesn’t understand why singing these songs hurts so much. She is singing about Zuko and her father, not about she and her father. Or maybe she isn’t singing about her father at all, but a nameless father and his nameless child. Hell, it can be a mother too. Just a vague musical rendition of a dreadful parent who is merely neglectful on a good day.

It dawns upon her that she is the victim that she sings of when she finds herself getting teary on that stage. They think that it is part of the act. They think that she is a stellar actress on top of a damn good lyricist.

She doesn’t correct them. The only thing that sells more than sex is sorrow.

Things change after that. There is more attention, more interviews, more magazine photoshoots, and more simmering resentment from From Ashes To Phoenix. She basks in the limelight and relishes in Zuko’s envy. And with the spotlight shining so brightly, she can no longer see the darkness that had helped put it on her.

****

Seeing her on TV is hell. Even when she isn’t right in front of him, flaunting her riches, talents, and everything he could have had, she is still able to mock him.

These days, he can’t escape her. She is everywhere; on the radio, on the magazines, on the TV, and on posters. He even sees her in the hallways of Caldera Capital High. He sees her there, though she has been pulled out months ago for a private education tailored to her personal schedule. It is just one more thing for him to envy. He has to manage his band and school, of course his progress is slower. Sometimes stunted altogether.

And for his troubles he averages C’s and D’s--B’s if he is lucky--and music that is half done and not nearly what he had imagined in his mind. He knows that he is going to have to make a choice and he thinks that he has begun to make that choice a few months back. He has lost track of how many times he has stayed after class to discuss his grades. He wonders how uncle will take to him dropping out. Should he turn in the forms that are tucked away in his backpack and seal the deal there won’t be any turning back. He will have to make it big. It will be his only chance.

A gaggle of fangirls fawning over the brooding lonewolf with the choker and black nailpolish can only take him so far. It doesn’t leave the hallways. But he does, he evades the teachers and hall monitors and climbs his way onto the roof. Mai is already there, he can see the smoke trail.

“Want one?” She offers.

“I’ll take a drag from yours.”

Mai passes the cigarette. “Have you told your uncle yet?”

He takes his drag and passes it back. “No.”

Mai gives a little hum. “Make a decision and commit, Zuko. Either you tell your uncle that you’re dropping out or start hustling to fix your grades. You have to succeed somewhere.”

He flinches. She sounds all too similar to Azula. She sighs. “Sorry. I just worry about you, Zuko. Indecisiveness is going to ruin you if you let it.”

There are a lot of things that are going to ruin him if he lets them. To some degree he thinks that he is already ruined. That he should just fester in the failure. “I could use another drag.”

“Sure.” Mai replies.

He takes his drag and watches the smoke curl up to the mid-afternoon sky. Mai leans back with her hands behind her head.

“What are you doing up here, Mai?” He asks. “You can actually pass your classes, why are you letting me drag you down?”

“Zuko, I’ve never felt more...up. Sometimes I just need to get out of there.” She spares a glance to the door. “It’s suffocating and smells like cheap perfume and testosterone. I smoke at least a cigarette a day, gym class is pointless anyways.”

He chuckles. He feels right when he is on the roof with her. When he is with her in general. Pessimistic as she nihilistic as she is, he feels the most hopeful when he is with her. Even if it is just for a moment, Azula’s shadow doesn’t envelop and shroud him. Even if it is just for a moment, he can forget about she and her antics and everything her overachieving has helped steal from him. Even if it is just for a moment he can see, truly envision and believe in a reality where he strums his guitar before an arena full of adoring, audio hungry fans.

He makes a decision, he is going tell uncle that high school isn’t for him. That he is meant for...that he deserves better things. As the sun reaches its zenith, he decides that he will truly work for his dream.

****

The darkness floods right back in when she is away from the stage. When the lyrics that echo through the venue become a reality. She doesn’t know exactly what she has done. Maybe she has done nothing at all. He very well may just be in a bad mood. She is texting Seicho when he enters. “Hello father.” She greets with a smile.

He returns it with a blank face and folded arms. “What is this?” He slaps a piece of paper onto the table. He nods for her to read it over.

“It’s a…” she knits her brows, “a printout of our ticket sales.” She looks up from the paper. “What’s wrong with it?”

“How many tickets were sold for the first show?”

“It was sold out.”

“What about all of last week’s shows and the week before that?”

“Sold out.” She says again.

He nods. “Yes, sold out. What about last night’s show?”

Azula swallows, “1,684.”

He drums his fingers on the table. “Would you like to tell me what happened?”

She thinks that it could be a lot of things; that night had also been the night of the high school homecoming baseball game, people might have been short on cash, the time slot had been a tad earlier than usual. All of these answers seem like excuses--she should have a performance more compelling than baseball, she should have had a performance with spending money on, she should have pushed for a more favorable time slot. “It was a smaller venue.” She says at last much.

Wrong answer.

“I was selling out all of my shows.” He slaps the page and she flinches. “These aren’t metal legend numbers, they aren’t even Audio of Agni numbers.”

She wants to point out that he probably hadn’t been selling out all of his shows when his band had been as young as hers is. Instead she very quietly promises, “I’ll do better, father.” She must and she will because he is right. Only 1,684 tickets sold in a venue that could hold 2,000 people? That is embarrassing.

“Maybe if you weren’t fooling around with that tattoo artist… you won’t be seeing her anymore”

“Wh-what?” She sputters. “No, that’s not it! Seicho isn’t a distraction!” She realizes too late that she has gotten too loud.

She closes her eyes and tenses for the strike that is sure to come. When it doesn’t she cracks an eyelid. He hasn’t even closed the distance between them. She allows herself to relax. It is only then that his hand snakes out and finds her cheek.

Reflexively her own hand comes to rub it. She bites the sides of her cheeks and swallows down the cry that is waiting to come up. More than anything she hates knowing that she has failed him. That she has disappointed him. These moments are few and far between, she makes sure of that. But they are still there and she has just given herself one more ill mark. Has put herself one step closer to ending up like Zuko. “I’ll do better.” She says again when she finds the words.

It was never like this before. She glares at the empty bottles. It was never like this--he used to love her. She used to be is gleaming little star. He would yell at her, sometimes until his face went red, but he has never hit her before. She looks at the bottles, but it might be that she has finally made enough mistakes for him to see her as a splendid failure instead of his rising rockstar.

She takes out her phone and taps the screen a few times before holding it up, “see no more distractions. I deleted her number.” She forces a smile. “I needed to focus on memorizing my new material anyways.”

At last he returns the smile. The tightness in her chest slackens, giving way to an optimistic and relieved fluttering in her tummy. He ruffles her hair, “that’s my girl.” He gives her a small hug. “I should know better than to doubt you.” He smells so strongly of booze.

But she has satisfied him. She is still is gleaming little star.

[se7enforse7en]

NBTM | Two — Propositions

☾ synopsis : Love and tragedy has always had a way of being connected, that connection usually held by the red string of fate. A red string that destined two soulmates to be bound for eternity. No matter the circumstances, fate would tie two individuals to meet, to not disrupt their long awaited destiny. In the world of more than five billion people, the red string had made it’s mark plenty of times, going back to perhaps the start of it. The folktale disappeared into obscurity & into believer’s hearts. In the lives of fourteen individuals in the 21st century, their lives seem to be an unfinished puzzle. Some strangers, some friends. Some blissful, others tragic. All unaware of the soon-to-be outcome years in the making. They’ll find it to be entrancingly painful. The red string of fate wasn’t just pretty.

☾ pairing : jinyoung x fem!oc

☾ genre : drama, romance, angst ??

☾ warnings : strong language, rambling from an ass author (I had to), very much angst ur honor, kinda ooc jinyoung, e2l

☾ Parts : one / two / three / four / five

JIHYE CONSIDERS HERSELF TO BE AN INSPIRATIONAL PERSON. Or rather, she usually thinks herself to be inspired. Normally, she had no problem coming up with a concept to paint. The canvas would create itself and she’d feel a bit of completeness. She’d be drawn to the brushes and her extravagantly expensive colors. They’d call out to her, urging her to pick them up and begin yet another masterpiece. Their hues should’ve created a clear image in her head, but they didn’t. Nothing’s happening. Not a damn thing.

She stares at the long, white canvas ahead of her. It’s blank nature taunts her in the face. It dares not to move, nor does it help her inability. She’s sure that there’s new wrinkles in her skin just from the blatant staring she’s doing. It sets an infuriating feeling in her. She’s tempted to throw one of the brushes at the canvas, the thought permeating the main centers of her brain. Alas, a doorbell brings her out of her thoughts. Her eyes fly to the door with a sigh. She reluctantly gets up, her body sluggish. She quickly opens up the door, only to be welcomed with the face of the one and only Jong Minji. She rolls her eyes and lets the door swing open. He scoffs as she beelines for her kitchen.

“So great to see you—oh, it really is!” He mocks the lack of interaction as she pulls out a chilled Dr. Pepper. He strides in, setting down a big, brown paper bag on her marble counter. He squints his eyes, noticing something’s off. She’s characterically cold as per usual, with none of the sassy energy in it. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to in the last seven years. She appears out of her element, even in the silent sigh that flows from her mouth, resulting from the promising liquid full of sugar. He takes a seat at her counter, his eyes quickly finding no paint on her wrists. He cocked an eyebrow at the sight. “Finally one of your white shirts isn't ruined,” he comments.

She looks down, realizing not a single stain of color had tainted it, a rarity indeed. “Yeah,” she whispers as she takes another thirst-quenching sip. Her sleeves are rolled up, preparing for an activity she felt like giving up on. Her eyes drift to the paper bag. She raises her eyebrows. She looks between him and the source of her curiosity.

“It’s not a bomb, sheesh.” He reaches for it, rapidly opening it. He pulls out lazily shoved in fries and several wrapped up burgers, ones she knows too well. She instantly groans at the sight of it. Her rolls her eyes yet again, her annoyance a bit more recognizable. She can practically smell the grease and fat oozing just from the sight of it. She gives an agitated look to him. His shoulders become slumped. “It’s been forever since we’ve had a fast food day - “

“Because it’s shitty processed food. I literally got food poisoning last time.” The mere thought of it makes her groan.

“That’s not exclusive to all fast food.” She sighs at his words, resorting to the remainder of her chilled soda. He pushes one of the three burgers in front of you, quickly unwrapping his own. He expects her to do the same. She casts her gaze down, looking with disdain. She thinks on how she’d have to soon be in the obvious limelight due to the inability of escaping any & all promotions as an artist. She lightly pushes it away, much to his dismay. He instantly frowns as he lowers the overly greasy away from his mouth. “Did something happen?” He knows she’s one to care about her health, but something’s up, he’s sure.

She licks her dry lips. She wonders the same as her friend. Being stuck is one thing and not knowing why is another. The unstableness of her hands is not normal, nor is the blank stare she has as she looks at the burger with disgust. Her eyes slowly float to the blank, not forgotten canvas behind the almost oblivious Minji. Even without eyes, it burns through her soul. The void with what had endless possibilities of what it could be struck a nerve in all that made sense in her mind. There’s nothing that evokes that usual fire of creativity. No color that manifests. No image inducing that familiar burst of whatever she’d call her creations. Children? Sometimes. Art? Somewhat. Perfection? She wishes.

She mutters a quiet “fuck” underneath her breath. It’s unnoticed by the younger of them two, Minji’s focus more concentrated on why she seemed out of place. He shakes his head and picks up the burger once more. He finds it near impossible to even fathom a specific reason at the moment. He bites into the excessively oily food. It’s unhealthy contents explode in his mouth with flavor, an experience not akin to the ever so observant Jihye. Her eyes scan his delighted face. Splendid noises of satisfaction spurred on by the heavy contents of In-N-Out Burger. It’s overloaded with onions, tomatoes, and pickles. ‘Horrid combination,’ she thinks to herself. She shakes a head a bit, taking another prolonged sip. Minji looks to her in confusion, breaking away from his captivated state of momentary bliss. She gives a small wave, hoping he just gets back to his sodium death. He shrugs. With another bite into the burger, he lets his mind wander to how great his taste buds feel and whatnot. Whatnot being a bit more complex than what Jihye may think.

Elsewhere, in a much more tense space, Park Jinyoung wonders if he makes purchases in his sleep. He sits across from an old-styled book, one with a nicely made leather cover and pages as sharp as a knife. They’re a beige worthy of the sands of Persia. The leather front is adorned with gold ends and little flurries of designs resembling that of strings. It shines in the light of his living room. It catches his eye, a quirked eyebrow in the direction of the blasted mystery. He runs his fingers over the forepart. It’s smooth, incredibly so. He finds it to be like a fairy tale book. He expects it to be full of tales, perhaps starting with Cinderella and ending with the Goblin.

However, he has no recollection of ever ordering such a book. His own little mini-library consists of more popular stories, rather than chronicles that fit a children’s shelf. His hands grip the pointed ends, placing the cover on the left. His eyes widen in surprise, his expectations now shattering as a result. That very first page…

It’s blank. Entirely devoid of any color or words, it stares back at him in a mocking manner. His eyes search the pages for any kind of indentation or mark to see if he’s merely tired. It’s not the case as he’s sure nothing gets past his somewhat worn out eyes. All he can find is a small scripture in the corner of the other side of the cover. It’s ink is a mix of gold and red, it’s shiny luster apparent. He squints his eyes. The scripture is written fancily, like an old tale. He can almost barely make it out. The edges are too fastly written and the ink is scarce in some spots.

“The Prince and...The Princess,” he warily reads outloud. “Opposites do not always attract.” He raises an eyebrow at the text. “For those of the likes of the cold-hearted prince and the ice princess, such was a mantra. One of tragedy and love. One of sacrifice and heartbreak as well.” He scoffs at the text, his doubt seeping through his features. He makes a judging face at the book.

“The hell?” His eyes dart to the right of the book. His eyes catch a glimpse of moving letters. His eyes widen a bit. He shakes his head, only to see the expanding ink once more. He tightens his grip on the book. The words fill up the entire first page, moving onto the second, third, & so forth. His eyes carefully scan the words, his heart about to burst out of his chest. He’s suddenly nervous. Just like most slightly cynical young adults, he was a firm believer of genuine logic. And genuine logic is nowhere present in the mystery Park Jinyoung is faced with. He scans the words, thoughtfully, absorbing whatever fever dream is gracing him at four o’clock sharp. His confusion grows by the second. He finds numerous superfluous words and fantastical details too true for a fairy tale. The beginning is a fated mess, such words coming from the old paper.

His iris’ finally land on two words, two distractions.

Prince Jinyoung.

Hi, if you read or checked this out, tysm !! I’d rlly appreciate it if you could reblog or like this post. I’d love to hear what ppl think so a comment is awesome too. This is a work of fiction and for entertainment purposes.

[helluvascribe]

Alastor Interview

Part 1: “I’ll Steal The Limelight!”

 On a TV screen, the 666 News logo appeared in neon outlines. A skeletal blonde woman was sitting at a desk, wearing a red dress and a pearl necklace. She had wide eyes, sharp teeth and bright red lipstick on. She was the news anchor of Hell, Katie Killjoy. Next to her was a man with a face mask for a face. He had short white hair and wore a business suit. He was Tom Trench.

 “Good afternoon to Hell’s First Circle!” said the woman. “I’m Katie Killjoy.”

“And I’m Tom Trench,” the man added.

“Another drug dealing brawl is taking place by the 666 Store along Maim Avenue and Broadslay Street.”

The image showed a tall great white shark wearing a teal suit and an anchor necklace, snarling at a tall black spider wearing torn jeans and a t shirt. Both started fighting, the shark chomping at the spider, almost biting off his neck.

“That’s right,” said Tom. “The loan shark wasn’t very happy that Black Widow the Third didn’t pay him back for the bag of cocaine. Instead, he got high off the cocaine, stole the shark’s stash of meth and sold it to an arachnid mafia at an even higher price!”

The spider screamed as the shark opened his maw, rows of sharp teeth shining.

“Looks like Black Widow is in the jaws of fate this time,” Tom added as a loud snap shook the miniature screen.

The screen changed to a red wall displaying plaques with fancy papers taped onto them. “Employee of the Month” was printed in headline format at the top and a row of smiling black and white pictures of Katie.

“Now for a special public program, here at 5! To commemorate me earning “Employee of the Month” for the tenth time in a row this year, me and Tom will be answering a series of questions in an exclusive live interview!”

She fluffed her short hair.

“You may be wondering why 666 News is Hell’s number one news station. Well now, you can get a sneak peek behind the scenes as I explain to you folks how my hard work and stylish outlook made all of this possible!”

She spread out her arms with loud cracks, bonking Tom Trench in the head.

Tom Trench rubbed his head as Katie moved her arms back and put her hands together in front of her.

“If you would like to apply to be part of the set and news crew, please call the number on your screen, 1-800-666–NEWS or go online at 666news applications.com.”

“Gays need not apply,” Katie added, with jazz hands.

Fast rapid music followed as the logo appeared again, and the words “Exclusive Interview with Katie Killjoy (and limp dick Tom Trench)!” appeared in stylish gold letters.

 After the I.M.P. jingle played, the screen cut back to the two news anchors sitting at their desks.

A rapid knocking sounded from Tom’s left.

“Oh, that must be our two never-before seen interviewers,” Tom said. “Brain Brimstone and Cecilia May! Come on in!” He stood up.

 The sound of footsteps, muffled grunts, and dragging steadily grew. Two shadow figures were thrown off-screen with thuds on the floor. Tom Trench took one look at the third figure and took several steps back. He breathed out loud in surprise.

Katie scratched her nails on the desk and looked over. “What now, Tom?!”

“Why hello there, news people!” said a loud radio voice. “Fancy seeing you here!”

Both of them were staring into the pale, red-eyed face of Alastor. He wore his usual long blood red dress coat, dark pants and black shoes. Dark gloves covered his four clawed hands. His hair was red and black and two small antlers were sticking up from his head between two furry tufts shaped like deer ears. A monocle rested under his right eye, connected by a thin chain.

“What a splendid surprise!” Katie chirped, looking at the camera. “The one and only Radio Demon has decided to join us for the interview. I hope he has some good questions up his sleeve, ‘cause I’d be more than happy to answer them.” She smirked and swayed her hips suggestively.

Alastor laughed forcefully. “Nonono, that’s not what I came here for. You see…” he mentioned to the two demons in the background, slowly getting up. “I came across those two fellows who were chatting about interviewing someone important. Seeing how easily bored I can get, I decided to follow them to your station to see what all the commotion was about. It was pretty funny seeing the terrified looks on their faces when they turned around and saw me. They were going to come in, but I brought them here for you. Wasn’t that so considerate of me?”

Katie and Tom Trench looked at each other, worry on both of their faces. Katie cleared her throat and cracked her neck, standing up. “Well, then, shall we get started? Take a seat and let’s begin with your first question.”

“Sure,” said Alastor, not moving, a smile on his face. “Here’s one, may I take things over from here? I’ve been bored as usual and I believe it’s my turn to provide some fun for the sinners.”

Tom Trench gulped, whole Katie narrowed her eyes.

“Excuse me, sir, but this is my program. I’ve been named the best employee and news anchor for ten months now! This is a perfect way to increase the good ratings! I’m the star who answers the questions, not you.”

She blew him a kiss. Tom’s eyes grew wide as he realized Katie’s big mistake. He shook his head, but Katie ignored him.

“My dear,” said Alastor, leaning closer, eyes glowing. “That wasn’t a request. This is my show now. Broadcasting on the radio is fine and dandy, but I enjoy looking for new entertainment platforms.” His microphone staff lit up.

Katie gave him a side hug. “My time is money, good sir, so I suggest we get started.”

A low growl rumbled from Alastor’s throat. He forcefully shoved her away. “Touch me again, and I’ll break your already broken body.”

“Why I never!” she responded. Katie transformed into her insect form, eyes glowing, pinchers out. “Get out of my studio!”

Alastor’s eyes turned into red radio dials. He spoke in a low voice. “How about, no. If any dumb Dora needs to get out, it’s you.”

Before Katie could react, she found herself ensnared by a couple black tentacles snaking around her feet, one wrapped around her right wrist.

“Let go of me!”

Tom Trench was yelling and hanging upside down by more tentacles grabbing onto his legs. Katie tripped in her red high heels and fell to the ground. A flaming portal formed from the floor nearby. Katie dragged her nails into the floor, scratching sounds piercing the air as she was pulled in further against her will.

“Why won’t anyone help me?!” Tom yelled as he was swung in the air as the crew fled the scene.

Katie swore loudly and screamed again as she fell through the portal.

Monstrous roars and yells came from below. After a few minutes, a tentacle flung Katie back up and onto the floor. Her body was shaking and her dress was torn.  There were cuts all over face and arms. Her eyes were briefly red, her pale face full of fear.

She stood on shaky legs and mumbled to herself.

“Those visions…my studio gone…crushed again…they rejected me…”

Alastor’s shadow let out a bone-chilling laugh and spoke in reverse: “.der ni dalc nomed eht eraweB”

Katie had gotten a glimpse of her worst subconscious fears and her past. Her parents comparing their worthless daughter to beauty patents in magazines…being fined for animal abuse…the press badmouthing her after being on air for the first time…a wealthy boyfriend rejecting her for a brunette model…smoking and gasping for breath…cameras and machinery falling and crushing her to death…

But her worst fear at the moment was a red and black haired man, glaring at her with glowing red eyes. She screamed and scurried out of the room. Tom Trench was thrown by a tentacle out a window, glass shattering. The portal in the floor closed.

 “Apologizes folks, but now that those two are gone, it’s time to begin my show with those two over there.”

Alastor’s shadow appeared and floated around him. With a snap of his fingers, the 666 News logo on the wall was replaced with large red letters reading “The Alastor Show!” The two demon interviewers hovered over in the air, surrounded by red auras. They were dropped into leather chairs. The desk vanished and Alastor sat in a tall leather chair of his own, with antlers extending from the top.

He beamed at the two in front of him. He stood up and walked over to Brian Brimstone. “The name’s Alastor, it’s a pleasure meeting you. And you are?”

“Brian,” he said in a quiet voice.

“Great to have you here. And you, what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Cecilia.”

“Pleasure to meet you as well!”

He sat back down. “So you’re here to interview me, yes? Well feel free to ask whatever you’d like. No pressure or anything. But I do warn you, the price for asking any personal questions, is your souls. Are we good?”

Both nodded.

“Excellent! To make this even more entertaining, I’ve invited some fine imps from Immediate Murder Professionals to join us.”

Blitzo, Moxxie, and Millie opened up a portal to Earth, a circle of flames between space and time.

“I paid them several souls to create an opening for the living world. Thanks to them, I can now broadcast this interview to those on Earth. While I provide some dad jokes and murder broadcasts for a while, these two here will travel to Earth and talk to the human mortals. If they have any questions they’d like to ask me, then my two associates will report back to me in the next hour. Have fun, you two!”

Brian and Cecilia were tossed into the portal off screen.

“By the way, did you hear about the day two radios got married? The wedding was great but the reception was awesome!”

He laughed out loud as a shadow spirit did a “ba dum tis” sound effect on a drum set. “Hahaha! Oh that one never gets old! For my radio listeners out there, just a reminder that my show starts Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays at 6:06 AM. Get it? A M.” He laughed again.  

“Tune in after the break. The Alastor Show is proudly sponsored by: “Dan’s Cannibalicious Cooking Segment. It’s Damn Delicious! By Murder King’s large Fat Nugget Bacon Burgers. The Perfect Snack for a Heart Attack. And by Princess Charlie’s Hazbin Hotel. The place to stay to wash your sins away!”

Part 2: “I’ll Make Music!”

“Welcome back everyone!” Alastor said happily. The two interviewer demons scurried out of the portal and took their places behind the camera in their chairs. The interviewers, obscured by darkness flinched as Alastor’s shadow hovered between the chairs, growling and showing sharp teeth. Antlers extended from the shadow’s head. Alastor continued. “As you can see, my two interviewers just came back from their journey to talk to the humans. They now have their questions ready. So, without further ado…let the show begin.”

 Brian cleared his throat. So…uh…we picked up several questions for the humans and…those in an exclusive group seem to know a lot about what goes on in this version of Hell. They call themselves “Hazbin Hotel fans or supporters.”

Alastor shook his head and chuckled. “How can any mortal possibly know about the Hazbin Hotel?” He spoke in a low whisper. “It’s nothing more than a pit and a joke if you ask me.” He spoke up, “But hey, I was happy to help out and rejuvenate the place. I just summoned Husk and Niffty, my associates to help assist Charlie and her friends. I believe they are named Vaggie and Angel Dust. I was there to seek out entertainment, to find a cure for my nagging boredom.”

Alastor’s shadow laughed. “.enorht s’reficuL ekat ot nalp ew dnA”

Understanding his shadow, Alastor whirled around and spat, “Shut it!” The shadow apologized in French and retreated.

“Where were we? Oh of course. The Hazbin Hotel. You say people know about it? Probably from I.M.P. I imagine.”

“No, sir. They say you’re part of a show they watch.”

Alastor chuckled. “Aren’t we all the stars of our own shows? For me, there’s an audience out there just waiting to see what I’m capable of. Like I say, the world is a stage!”

Cecilia turned to Brain in the darkness, “Don’t try and explain it to him. We’re breaking the 4th wall enough as it is.”

Alastor’s microphone staff lit up. “Hello there, fellow humans! I’m your host, Alastor, the only and only Radio Demon! I can’t really see you as I’m in the fiery depth of Hell, but I hope you’re doing swell wherever you live.”

“And the 4th wall has been broken,” Brain muttered.  

“Now that both demons and humans can witness this interview, let’s get started. Now, state your questions.”

  Cecelia looked at the list.

“Question 1: What instruments do you like to play?”

“Glad you asked,” said Alastor. “I enjoy playing the piano, trumpet, and saxophone. Electro Swing and Jazz are my favorite types of music.” Shadow spirits rose up from the ground and began to play a jazzy tune. He moved his body to the beat and hummed along. “Music has always been central in my life. Growing up in New Orleans back in the day, jazz was everywhere there. Singing and dancing was my way of bonding with people, plus it was a great hobby to do in my spare time. Well, besides murdering people and eating them.”

Alastor’s eyes lit up. “Oh ho ho ho ho! I have a special surprise for you folks. With the help of Blitzo and his crew, I was able to track down a curious British fellow who had invented a very unique musical instrument. What was his name again?”

Blitzo looked up from a computer. “LOOK MUM, NO COMPUTER.”

 “No need to shout it out, good sir. Are you sure that’s his name?”

“It’s written in all caps. That’s what he calls himself.”

“Whatever. Mortals sure are strange. Anyway…”

He snapped his fingers and a large object was covered with a black tarp. I present to you…one of my favorite instruments to play, when no one’s looking…”

The shadow spirits did a drum roll…

The tarp was lifted away into the air…

“The Furby Organ!”

 It was a grotesque combination of an old fashioned organ and a children’s plaything. The organ had a wooden stool to sit down on and a row of white and black piano keys. The frame was polished oak.

Six long rows of colorful furry robotic toys stood close together like toys displayed in a shop. The furbies had long soft ears, yellow bird becks for noses and little mouths that could open and close. Their large plastic eyes opened and closed at random…their eyes looking disturbingly like human eyes. They all had soft furry feet to hold them upright. Their fur was a variety of colors: gray white, blue and black, brown, orange and red, and yellow. There were 44 furbies in total, all hooked up by a complex array of colorful wires criss-crossing in the back of the machine.

Below the furbies was a series of round metal knobs with notes as letters written in silver sharpie below them. Slightly larger knobs were off to the right. One of the switches was labeled “wake” another, “vowel” and another, “loop.” “LOOK MUM, NO COMPUTER” was written on the front.

 A tall white young man stuck out his head from the portal with a shocked and angry expression. His hair was dark and slightly messy.

“Hey, you there! I saw you and some gazelles steal my instrument the other day. I’d like it back!”

Blitzo fumed. “It’s imps to you, ya piece of…”

“Ha! No,” Alastor cut in, pushing Blitzo back. “I believe this marvelous organ belongs to me now. You’re smart. Go make another one.”

The YouTuber stood, flabbergasted. “You don’t know how much I spent on those furbies!” he exclaimed. “They’re rare to find. I wanted to find a use for them and I’m still not done with it.”

“I must say, I’m quite impressed with your work,” Alastor mentioned, running his hand on the polished wood. “It looks done to me. Go make me some more, and I might consider sparing you.”

“What?! What the heck even are you?” the man asked.

“Alastor, Radio Demon, pleased to meet you! Now sit back and enjoy the show, No Computer Man!”

“That’s not my name…” he began, before he was held in place with a yelp by several shadow spirits.

 Alastor sat down at the stool as the camera was focused on him.

“Please sir,” said the YouTuber. “Just let me have my machine and I’ll be on my way.”

“Sure, okay, go ahead,” said Alastor. He waved his hand and the silver letters changed to red on the black front structure. “LOOK MUM NO COMPUTER” changed to “ALASTOR RADIO DEMON.” Red voodoo symbols decorated the front and sides of the instrument. “But first, I’d like you to hear me play my favorite song, “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile! Congratulations, human…you’ve got a front-row seat!”

 He moved his eyes over toward a switch to the far right of the machine. Below the switch read “Collective Awakening,” in silver letters.

He hovered a long finger over the switch, his grin growing wider.

The man’s eyes widened in fear. “No, no, don’t…” He couldn’t explain where his internal fear was coming from.

But he knew the answer soon enough once Alastor flicked the switch upwards.

All at once, the furbies came to life in a high-pitched discordant. The ears, eyes and mouths of the toys moved on their own accord. The furbies’ voices overlapped each other, almost sounding like screams. A few furbies were still and asleep, unaware of their Matrix-like fate of being part of a musical machine.

Alastor sat down on the stool and laughed. He played around with the knobs and notes. The furbies’ eyes glowed red. He turned the loop button and the furbies screeched and stopped in mid sound. He began to play the keys expertly with his fingers as he sang out loud in his radio voice:

   “Hey Hobo Sinner, hey Dapper Winner

You’ve both got your style

But brother you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

 “Your clothes may be, Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But brother, you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

 He snapped his fingers and Rosie, Mimzy and Charlie were lifted up from portals via tentacles. Charlie looked around, her pale face framed by her blonde hair, red circles on her cheeks.

“Alastor…what’s going on?!”

“My lovely companions!” he introduced.

Mimzy giggled and danced along. Rosie, having agreed to the plan prior, also hummed along.

The three of them did the backup sounds: “Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo doo…”

  “Who cares what they’re wearing

On Maim Street or Inferno Row

It’s what you wear from ear to ear!”

 He held up two severed ears…

“…and not from head to toe…”

A severed head and toes appeared in his other hand…

“That ma- ah- ah- ters…”

 He took several bites of the human flesh and swallowed, playing a solo with the shrilling and singing of furbies. LOOK MUM, NO COMPUTER shut his eyes tight, trying in vain to get the shadows off him. Alastor tossed the parts aside for the imps to retrieve, along with a bag of souls and coins at the imps’ feet. He cleared his throat as he played some more.

    “So room and board, so Overlord

So long for a while

Remember you’re never fully dressed without a smile!

It doesn’t matter how you dress…

Though you make look the best…

You’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

 Charlie took one look at the furby organ and screamed. “What in Satan’s name is that thing?!”

“My fabulous furby organ!” Alastor exclaimed.

“It’s my invention!” the YouTuber yelled, eyes open.

“Who’s that?” Charlie asked.

Alastor ignored her and finished the song. The furbies talked and moved their mouths in a frenzy before falling still.

Audience clapping sounded from the microphone staff as Alastor stood and bowed.

“Thank, you, thank you! I hope you all enjoyed my little performance. Now to send everyone home.”

He snapped his fingers and the shadows gently carried LOOK MUM NO COMPUTER back through the portal and into the human world. The portal closed behind him, leaving the YouTuber with nothing but a pamphlet advertising the Hazbin Hotel. Under the pamphlet was a hard piece of paper with detailed instructions on how to build another organ made of scales and sea creatures…complete with Baxter’s signature.

Charlie protested but she was soon sent back to the Hazbin Hotel through another portal. Mimzy waved goodbye and Rosie led the way out the door.

After playing several more songs, Alastor snapped his fingers. The organ vanished back to his interdimensional lair and the imps were sent on their way.

Part 3: “I’ll Annihilate Your Assumptions!”

  “Alright, next question,” said Brian. “Question 2: Why were you made asexual?”

“Pardon me?” He titled his head in confusion.

“Asexual. Aromantic. Not interested in love?”

“I don’t know what you mean by that. Where did those peculiar terms come from?”

“Well, don’t you know about heterosexuality and homosexuality? Being straight or gay? Everyone uses them.”

Alastor shook his head. “I’ll never understand the random out-of-the-blue labels that you modern folk use. Asexuality? That didn’t exist in my time.”

Brain stared, confused from his seat. “Ok, boomer.”

Alastor snapped his fingers and an explosion tore open a hole in the wall right behind Brain. He yelped in fright.

“Was that a good enough boom for you? Angel Dust told me that “ok boomer” was somehow an insult. I could make you explode, oh that would be fun!”

“Nononono! I didn’t mean anything!” Brian called, in a stuttering voice.

“Alright, let’s fix that wall,” Alastor mentioned.

He snapped his fingers and the formerly broken white wall became a repaired red wall with golden antler designs on it. A black and white picture of a dark skinned woman hung nearby.

The camera focused on Alastor walking up to the wall where the picture was and briefly embracing it.

“Hey, I gotta get my hugs sometime when I’m alone.” He stood up and walked back to his seat. The picture disappeared.

   “Alright, about this “asexual” business. Let me explain the best way I can,” said Alastor. “When I was alive, nearly everyone assumed that men liked women and vice versa. Those who did behaviors outside the norm were arrested or imprisoned. At the earliest, that “heterosexuality” term…meant someone with an abnormal passion for the opposite sex. There were no official terms…you were either accepted or condemned by others. As for me…I wasn’t interested in men or women. Dealing with messy emotions and meeting other’s expectations wasn’t worth my time. Sure, I had my fair share of friends male and female…and yes, I did enjoy flirting and touching the ladies. Kind of amusing and pathetic how they could fall for me just like that. Humanity…so gullible! So easy to dance with the women, give them compliments, lure them into my house, and then watch as they screamed for their lives in my basement. I’ve found dames to be the much more tender gender…”

He licked his lips.

Brian and Cecilia shivered in their seats, legs ready to spring and flee.

Alastor shook his head, and spoke back in his normal voice. “Oh sorry about that. I got lost in my thoughts. So, what was the question again?”

Brian repeated it.

“No one is “made” into anything. I was born who I am and then was raised with certain beliefs. Were you born to love the opposite sex? Was I somehow destined to become a demon? No one really knows the answers.”

A pause.

A narrowing of red eyes.

“I can sense that these questions are becoming more personal…”

“Okay, okay,” said Cecelia in a trembling voice. “We won’t ask anything else…”

“On the contrary, it’s quite enjoyable to let my thoughts out,” he said. He snapped his fingers. The doors slammed shut and the locks clicked into place.

“Stay tuned for more, next time on The Alastor Show. For now, you can only imagine what fate I have in store for my guests.”

His microphone blinked off and the TV screens burst into static.

Brain and Cecelia found their arms and legs pinned down by red magic.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you guys escape. Wouldn’t want anyone to taint my reputation by revealing personal details. I mean, heheheh, you still have lots of questions to ask me, and I wouldn’t want to be dismissive of your hard work. But how to dispose of you when the interviews end…”

The shadow hovered by Alastor and whispered in his ear.

“.senob rieht htiw yalp nac sllod oodoov eht dna meht no tsaef em teL”

“Oh, that’s a great idea, Rotsala! Then again, I always have great ideas.” The shadow grinned and sat in a shadow chair beside Alastor.

 “In regards to your strange question…why would I love anybody down in Hell?” He burst into laughter. “They’re all a bunch of lost causes anyway! I do make deals here and there but I just use people for my own entertainment. I’m not interested in any sexual activity. Those like that pervert Angel Dust…they can just do their own thing far away from me.”

“But,” he continued, “I will say this.  I don’t want to see dear Charlie and her friends get hurt. Especially by my rivals Vox and Valentino and other sinners and demons. I should be the one who decides what to do with them.  Those who harm me or my associates would be in for a rude awakening.”

“Um,” said Cecelia. “You’re not gonna…you know…”

Oh, don’t worry, they’re still safe and sound at the hotel. I’m just taking a break. Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here…”

He paused…

 “I would just get bored again later,” he said in a normal voice.

Cecelia and Brian looked at each other.

“What?” Alastor asked with a smirk. “You thought I was going to say something else?”

“The fans do love it when you’re creepy…” Brian mumbled.

“What was that?”

“N-nothing.”

Alastor held out his hands and a plate of shrimp, sausage, rice, and vegetables appeared on a small table that emerged from a small portal.

“Jamabalya?” he offered with a smile. “It’s my mother’s special recipe.”

The two demons dug in off screen while Alastor enjoyed the dish as well.

“Yes,” said Alastor after they had finished eating. “I’m affectionate with my friends, but I’m not into sex and romance. I assume that not many humans or you demons understand that.”

“Uh…yes we do,” said Cecelia, her voice trembling. “Yeah, I have a friend who’s not into romance…”

Alastor held up a hand. “Of course you wouldn’t. None of you would. Only I can understand my feelings and aversion to intimacy. My Creole heritage, my love of Hoodoo, Voodoo, the radio, and theater…the thrill and desperation when I hunted my own kind during the Depression…No. I’ll remain an elusive enigma to all of you.”  

   Part 4: “I’ll Tell You About The One I Truly Love”

 “Is there…anyone you do love?” Cecelia asked.

“Like I said before,” Alastor mentioned, “I don’t care much for anyone in Hell. However…” His red eyes took on a faraway look, the shades of red descending into darker shades of red, until ending at black holes.

“I loved my dear mama with all my heart. Back when we lived together in New Orleans in a small house by the bayou not too far from town. Others called her by her name, Loretta Duvalier. Beautiful lady, dark skin, black curly short hair, loved to wear red cotton dresses and dapper hats.”

“Wow,” Brain breathed. “I didn’t know she had a name.”

Alastor scoffed. “I didn’t know you had an identity, but here we are. As a matter of fact, no one else knows what you and your friend look like. Even the camera doesn’t want to know.”

“Why you disoriented, deer-brained…”

Brain strained to lift up his arms in the darkness, reaching for the camera in vain.

“Goodness, don’t wear yourself out just yet,” Alastor chuckled. “I still have more to tell you!”

“You have no soul, redhead!” he sputtered out.

“That’s because I need live souls to warm me up,” Alastor retorted. “Be patient; you’ll be next soon enough.”

Brain stilled in defeat.

“That’s better. Moving on.”

He cleared his throat. “In case any of you are wondering what I looked like as a radio host and serial killer as a human…”

Morphing from shadow, was a black and white picture that appeared in Alastor’s hand. It briefly revealed colors. A young man grinned widely, wearing a white buttoned shirt, a sandy red shirt over the white one, dark gray pants and a black bow tie underneath his pointed chin. His hair was short and brown, with a faint reddish tint that sometimes shined in the light. Light brown skin, brown analytical eyes, and a pair of round glasses. He held a dark gray hand-held microphone in his right hand.

“I…thought you were white…” Cecelia added. “All the fan art and the comics say you are.”

“What exactly is ‘fan art?’” he asked. “You seriously want to believe what is portrayed in the human world? And just after an hour? You’re even more stupid than I thought.”

“I am part French, part Creole,” he continued. “My race and my personality were several reasons why I was bullied throughout my school years…and my working life. You two should be grateful to be getting these facts first hand. I almost never tell these to anyone.”

In a blink of an eye, Alastor walked over and twisted Brain’s arm hard.

A wailing wheezing scream followed a millisecond after the sickening crack. Moments later, he did the same thing with one of his legs. The demon yowled again.

“Heh, it seems that my stories cost you an arm and a leg to listen to,” he smirked. The smiling shadow spirit did the “ba dum tis” sound effect on the drums again.

“Anyway, back to my dear mother, Loretta. She once made a recipe for Jambalaya that nearly killed her. Mind you, this was before she died from an illness and I had her for dinner in despair. You see, several of the voodoo deities liked to consume rum, blood, and gunpowder in the legends. She had a bit too much Southern Comfort drink and she put gunpowder and wasabi sauce in the jambalaya. The stove was on and some of the powder exploded in her face. I warned her not to eat it, but she decided, with her face all charred, that she would taste test it. The wasabi sauce almost gave her a heart attack and I had to take care of her for a while. But when I tried the dish…it was so spicy and so splendid!”

He burst out into laughter.

“Oh,” said Brain, through pained gasps. “That’s what you meant when you said that her recipe nearly killed her and that the kick was right outta Hell.”

The shadow spirit did the drum effect again.

“That’s seriously getting annoying,” Cecelia complained.

“And so are you,” he retorted before continuing.

“My mom told me that her mother was a well-respected Voodoo Priestess and Hoodoo oral traditionalist. She followed in her footsteps, though like many women during the time, she worked in second-class jobs, not very well-paid. I remember her warning me not to delve too deep into the dark Loas and evil magic. She also said, “Never resort to cannibalism unless as a last resort.” Well, she only ate one human who had already died of starvation, and that’s when we had no food for several days. When it came to the Great Depression…it was both survival and the thrill that got me into cannibalism. Oh the irony!”

“W-where is she now?” Brain asked.

“In Heaven, of course. She went there because she was pretty much the only light in my human life. She comforted me after my father and uncle…took advantage of me. My father and uncle were sent to Hell for obvious reasons.”

His smile appeared strained.

“You know…it’s okay to show emotion other than happiness all the time,” Cecilia said.

“Frowning makes one weak,” Alastor replied. “Both my parents told me that. I’ll never forget mother’s saying she often used, “Always remember to smile, Alastor. You gotta appear confident and fully dressed to others.” I can see why she told me that, with the racism and the lavish-centered culture back then…”

“Will you ever get to see her?” she asked.

“Not with being stuck down here,” he replied. “Charlie’s whole plan of “redemption” is a big joke. But, since she’s nice enough, I still want to help her out…for entertainment, of course.”

“I bet you secretly want her plan to work so you can go back to Heaven to reunite with her!” Cecelia claimed. “He wants to dance with Charlie and love her forever and ever!”

“Or,” Brain countered. “He wants to lure her into a sense of false security so he can take over Hell and be king!” He spoke in a high voice, “Oh Charlie, if only there was someone who actually loved your hotel and ideas!”

Radio static filled the room. “Assumptions, assumptions,” Alastor growled. “I tell you facts about my life and here you go making up stories to fit your puny ideals! You’re even lower than the mortal humans. I’m usually very kind and patient…but I’m literally this close to ripping your eyes out and leaving your corpses for the voodoo imps to feed on.”

“.ti od ,erofeb dias I tahw s’thaT”

“That’s what I said before, do it.”

“Not now,” Alastor hissed to his shadow.

He turned back to them. “Only questions come from you two. Not another word, unless you want me to use your tongues for decoration.” His voice lowered. “You hear me loud and clear?”

Both interviewer demons nodded.

“Good. Now, let’s move forward.”

 Part 5: “I’ll Describe Rosie and Mimzy, My Fellow Female Friends!”

Part 4: “About Charlastor…”

 Part 5: “About RadioDust…”

 Part 6: “Other shippings?”

 Part 7: “Gender and race of my victims doesn’t matter”

[poweredbycoffeeandwine]

I Don’t Mean To: Part II

Hello Lovelies!! Yes, I finally got around to finishing the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it! Features my Tavrien Shepard and Kaidan Alenko after Virmire. Here is Part 1, just in case you are interested. 

Kaidan Alenko x Commander Shepard - Pre-Romance - ME:1

Part II:

Her hands continued to shake. Her mind swirled. Rage, disbelief and bone-deep sorrow threatened to steal her breath. Tavrien stared at her console, red rimmed eyes causing the screen to blur. She didn’t know how long she had been crying, or when she had begun. She only knew that one of her best friends had needed her, and she had left her to the wolves.  

She gulped her cold coffee grasping at words to voice her feelings. How did one go about telling a mom her child had died? The Williams family had to know just how important and vital their daughter, sister, loved one was but she had nothing. Obviously they knew how special she was, but what could she say to them that could possibly make amends? They would rather have Ash than her flowery words on a cold letter. A better leader would have brought the whole team back, not hollow words of condolences.

After the mission, Kirrahe had taken her aside and offered her words of comfort for her lost soldier. Things like, “she fought bravely,” and “she died a hero,” only made her furious. Now the Alliance expected her to send the same rubbish to a beautiful family--one that already lost a father in the line of duty. Shepard choked, “Oh god,” bile rising in her throat, “can I even do this?” Her chair scraped against the floor, sound grating. She grabbed her Blasto coffee mug, fleeing her quarters and the cursor blinking on the blank page.

The Normandy crew milled about, restless, speaking in muted whispers as she walked. The air heavy with grief and stifled tears. Tavrien knew she couldn't let the pain and utter despair she felt show. The crew looked to her for guidance, more so during the difficult times, and this was by far the worst the crew had experienced. Ashley was the soul of the ship, vibrant and energetic. She felt as though she had lost a sister, and she felt the sorrow wrapping around her, making the tears harder to fight. Inattention lead her wandering feet back to the one place she knew she had to return to, but had been avoiding.

Kaidan would want to talk about the decision she made.  However difficult, she knew it had to be done. With a shuddering sigh, she walked through the door into the darkened room. The lowered temperature caused her to shiver. Her eyes adjusted to the dark as she quietly made her way to the bed he occupied. He was sleeping, brows creased ever so slightly, a grimace set on his lips. Her hand reached for his hair, but she snatched it back before she touched him as if shocked. The desire to sweep hair away from his forehead had been so strong.

Instead she turned and grabbed a blanket off a nearby cot; wrapping it around her shoulders as she settled into a chair. She refused to wake him because he needed sleep. The guilt gnawing at her heart was too much, and seeing the emotion reflected at her through Kaidan's eyes would be torture. Tavrien forced herself to practice her breathing, mentally tuck these feelings in a box, and shove it away.

She glanced at Alenko, and for what had to be the millionth time, marveled at him. In battle, she couldn’t help being impressed with his calm demeanor. He was everything she wished she could be. Analytical, intelligent, he never did a thing without processing and seeing the situation from every angle. She knew what he had endured, all of the weight he carried to become the man he was. She often wondered if she could pay that price and remain half as decent.

Yes, she was hailed as the Hero of Elysium, but she certainly hadn't been the only one fighting. Desperate civilians answered the call for help, countless died fighting for their homes. The battle had been nothing short of a bloody disaster. She willingly sacrificed lives for the textbook definition of the “greater good.” She felt like a fraud when someone admired her with eyes full, glowing with hero worship. Tavrien forced herself to look the other way when the smoke cleared and blood washed away. The Alliance decided to market her as the perfect poster-child. Suited for the limelight. Hell, she had been groomed for itl her whole life. Hannah Shepard surrounded her daughter with the best tutors and military strategists the moment she had expressed interest in following her mother’s footsteps.

Tavrien continued her watch over Kaidan through the long hours of the sleep cycle. Any chance to rest was elusive and her thoughts strayed to the man lying on the cot nearby. Would he hate her when he woke? Blame her for the death of a comrade-in-arms and dear friend. Would he ask to be transferred off the Normandy? She wouldn’t fight him if he decided he couldn’t stay. It would destroy her to let him go, but she had no hold on him. Minutes or hours passed, Shepard didn’t know how long she sat wrapped in the rough blanket. Awareness crept across her skin and she knew for some time he had been watching her. Gritty eyes dragged to him, afraid of what she would find.

“Why?” HIs voice cracked, whether from disuse or emotion, she could not tell, “Why did you do it? You should have left me, Shepard.”

Tavrien spoke softly, wondering who she was trying to convince, “No. Our primary objective was the destruction of that facility. You were arming the nuke. You were with that bomb because you have the skills required.”

“That’s not fair.”

Shepard silenced him with a dark look and continued, “You are a very capable Biotic. The strongest I’ve ever worked with. You were higher ranking and the most damned logical choice by all the books ever written. Any commander would have chosen you!” her voice echoed through the med bay. She hated feeling defensive, she knew she had let her feelings get in the way.

“So, I was rescued because I was the most logical choice? What about Ash, she was your friend! Don’t you care at all? She looked up to you, and I am sure she didn’t expect you to leave her behind like some grunt nobody!” His chest heaved, biotics barely checked in his rage.

Shepard stood, shocked at the accusation in his tone. She wanted to cry, to run and hide. Whatever she had imagined, this was infinitely worse. In a hoarse whisper attempting to hide the hurt, she replied, “I made a decision, Kaidan. Me.” Suddenly she was tired of being questioned, and she took a step closer to him. She stabbed her finger into his t-shirt clad chest, and angrily moved on. “There was nobody else to ask. I was on the fly. I didn’t have time to decide which soldier was most valuable to my operation, I was leaving one of my friends to die with an armed bomb counting down the seconds!”

“No, Shepard,” Kaidan sat up, legs swinging over the side of the bed, and rubbed his temples, “If I had just done my damn job, you wouldn’t have had to make that choice. Ash would still be with us.” His shoulders drooped, and his head fell in defeat.

The sight of him slumped over taking more of the blame than he had a right to pissed Shepard off. How dare he try to diminish her role in the way things played out! She glared at him, a furious fire glinting in her blue eyes. “That is enough!” she roared. “Ashley’s death is on Saren’s hands. He is hell bent on destroying everything we know and love along with these Reapers. He is a mad man, and there is no way to convince him to give us a chance. To fight. We didn’t kill Ashley, he did.” Her palm slapped against the mattress near his leg and gripped the stiff blanket in her fist.

The silence stretched; growing a life of it’s own. She cursed the tears finding their way down her cheeks. She felt weak, and betrayed by her own body. She was more upset that when his warm hand settled over hers, she would have given anything to throw herself in his arms. She would sacrifice a lot more than her career to have him hold her, and tell her that everything would be ok. How selfish and undeserving she felt, her friend was dead, and here she was taking advantage of Kaidan’s grief. “Don’t,” broken and bitter, she pulled her hand away from the comfort he gave.

“Shepard, I’m gr...grateful that I am here. I know it doesn’t seem that way, but I am. You chose to save me, and because of that decision I can fight another day. Still, I have to know…” He paused, rubbed his neck where his implant rested, took a breath and slowly let it out, “Did Ash die because of me? Because of us?”

There it was, out in the open, and Shepard didn’t know whether she should be glad or vomit on the shining med bay floor.  How could she be so stupid? Of course Kaidan knew of her feelings for him. He was perceptive, and she wasn’t exactly at her best when it came to him. Her mother had taught her young how to conceal emotions, how to put on the face of a leader when necessary. Somehow Kaidan broke down all the barriers she had crafted to keep others at a distance. He reached out to touch her after she took too long answering. The light caress from shoulder to elbow and back up startled her. How could so little contact from him shake her like no other touch?

“Kaidan, please. I… What do you want me to say? That I don’t mean to ever leave you behind. That it would be like leaving a piece of myself! I couldn’t ever make that decision. You mean too much, I lo..” She slapped her hand to her mouth, eyes wild and sparkling scared she said too much.

“Do you mean it? Shepard, could you possibly?” Kaidan looked at her with apprehension and wonder. He grabbed her hand again, rough callouses scraping over her the soft skin of her wrists. She shivered, as he pulled her closer to him so her hips settled between his legs. One hand at her elbow, the other lifted her chin so he could look her in the eyes. “Tavrien, please,” he croaked, “tell me I am not imagining this.”

Clutching his shirt, she pulled his face toward hers. Lips inches from hers she looked into his eyes, and licked her lips. She was waiting, giving him an out. Understanding he needed a  chance to be the voice of reason, to stop them both before they crossed the line. She knew the regs, but couldn’t seem to make herself care. She had almost lost him, as well as Ash, and sticking to the rules meant that he would never have known. If he let her go, she would back off. Never pursue him again, but oh how she wished with all she had that he would take the leap with her.

She looked up from his lips only to find him watching her own. Kaidan groaned and his mouth slanted across hers. All of the tension built up over the months of the mission was poured into the kiss. Capturing her bottom lip between his teeth alternating between gentle and rough bites, tongue following, soothing away the pain. She hummed her appreciation, and matched his need with her own. She couldn’t fight her body pressing against his. Breaking the kiss with a gasp for air, she clung to him. He held her gently, hand sliding up and down her spine. “Shepard, you have to know how hopelessly lost I am over you. I have been dreaming about this moment since that first mission.” He sighed and rested his head against hers. His fingers tangled in her hair. “But where do we go from here? I can’t let you risk your career for me.”

With a quick intake of breath she moved her hand to his cheek and rubbed her thumb across his cheekbone. She sighed, eyes closed as she rasped, “I think I”m in love with you, and if you are willing to chance it, I am sure we can figure this out.”

“I’m not sure this is real, Shepard. I’ll be livid if I wake up and this has all been a drug induced dream.” Kaidan whispered huskily in her ear. He placed a gentle kiss to her neck and let out a breath.

Untangling herself from his arms to look into his eyes, she swore, “I’ll be here when you wake up, and if you need a pinch, I’ll be happy to help.” His laugh was carefree and so unlike any she had heard from him. So much had happened since they had begun searching for Saren. For the first time in months, she was ready to take the world by storm. Declaring her love for Kaidan didn’t make her weak, but made her feel empowered. With Kaidan and the rest of the Normandy crew by her side, nothing could stop her.

[rileyomalley]

My Blues Baby

Summary: A woman finds herself accomplishing one of her big all time goals, and ends up finding the results are better than she ever expected.

Word Count: 5,473

Rating: General, hella fluff

General Notes: This was mostly written for myself in the wee hours of the morning, sp some transitions may be awkward as are some conversations. So despite that, hope ya’ll enjoy this hot mess!

If she had to sum up her feelings right at this moment, it would be a mix of both anxious and excited. A weird combination that left a person giddy as can be, unable to cease the onslaught of questions running through her mind.

Was this really happening? Was she really about to do one of the few things she'd wanted to do for a long time, even if it was only for a night? Was she seriously going to put her best efforts forward and share her artistry before a crowd of people?

She wasn't foreign to the stage, at least not what came with live performances thinking back to her college days. She'd had plenty of skills under her sleeve in those four years than she did prior. It left her with a confidence being a jack of all trades, and feeling if she really wanted to reach something, to achieve a goal—she wouldn't feel like a complete buffoon stumbling over her own two feet trying.

But now, here she was back stage looking herself over for the final touches before it was time for her to go on. The entirety of this night was based on one dream and one dream alone...she had a deep love of soulful blues and jazz which captivated her in her youth, so in turn she had wanted to—someday—perform such music and hell, even compose some of her own.

Of course, this night was filled with only a few songs that she would perform, and most were covers of beloved songs to both her and perhaps those select few who were keen to the blues/jazz music scene and it's artists. The other few being from Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday and so forth. Then, to finish she would sing a song she'd written herself. There were others she wanted to finish, but this one had more solidarity so far than others so...best to play it safe for now. The experience would be enough.

Busying herself with her hair and makeup, she couldn't help but stop and stare. Her mind going a thousand miles a minute, from the start of this pipe dream to her sudden desire to write the song, to …looking far stunning than she'd ever imagined herself looking. Not to mention one of those few times she'd actually gotten contacts and not hiding behind her glasses. There was a lot of work done here, but something about her reflection just...she only wished it were this easy. To glow so easily as this and...perhaps from this experience, she'd be all the more keen to do more for herself than she ever did day by day.

Sweet sounds of instruments echoed through the building, the slight muffled chatter of the crowd would not break her from staring down at the music sheet—a finalized version of her original song 'You Don't Know Me, But I Want To Know You” laying in warm lighting before her—she gave a soft laugh thinking how all that brewed itself into a tangible form. She couldn't help but laugh because of it, feeling like some hopeless romantic having written such a song, one that was obvious inspiration from another person.

The one she doubted would ever hear it. A girl can dream, though perhaps in some weird strand of fate, he just might.

 She did recall him saying he liked blues music, after all.

 But what universal forces could leave such a busy man as he to come to a place like this, on this particular night or ANY night for that matter? Not that he didn't seem the type but...

It just felt too good to be true, even though the thought was nice.

The thought was there. The love was there for a person who knew nothing about her, or even perhaps that she existed. Such is the heart, eh? Always wanting, yet uncertain of the want being fulfilled.

Nonetheless, she'd be giving it her all tonight. She wasn't about to let something as soft ache leave her to be dull in a chance like this. It was one in a lifetime for an artist, and damn straight she was going to leave a mark in this California town. Lucky enough to be traveling, and to find an agreement with the owner of the joint...she was stupidly lucky. She'd proved her point enough though how much something like this performance mattered, and suppose the owner could see the heart in the matter.

 On in five.

 Okay. One final tousle of her duotone colored hair, she stood taking a deep breath. Once more with warmups and she'd have to make her appearance soon enough. Nervousness did shake her but she kept the thoughts of her supporters and loved ones in mind to keep her steady. Her playlist going over in her mind and how she wanted to fall into character.

She was herself. But she was also a woman full of song, and she wanted to bring one hundred and ten percent to this. To be as alluring and enchanting as those songs were to her. A few more minutes, she heard the band start to warm up and the crowd only seemed to become more and more clear to her.

 It begun.

“You had plenty money 1922, you let other women make a fool of you...”

 She stepped past those curtains, her steps in sync with the low drawl of the live band now behind her. Her voice projected now like a siren's song, puckering those petite lips as her body swayed near the microphone. Barely able to make much of the crowd before her, what with the lights shining directly to the stage.

Lay on that allure, darling. You wanted that strength in your art to shine. You were everything.

A good start it seemed to be when the first song finished, the crowd seemed pretty pleased, brown eyes scanning them and red lips curling into a sweet smile. The response gave her all the more confidence. She'd only lay it on more and more. Each song going from alluring, to something more soft.

Thump, thump, de dump. A fever in the midst.

“Never know how much I love you, never know how much I care. When you put your arms around me I got a fever that's so hard to bear-”

 The same rhythmic sway she kept from the previous song followed suit, swaying those shoulders as well as her hips. Her motions were not exaggerated, where her eyes and lips led more dominantly. They were the lust, the beautiful illusion as she sung out. With each phrase held enough attitude and drama that her hands made all the more clear. Her arms flung, touched, and slid about to weave the tales she had for her audience.

 “What a lovely way to burn...”

 The crowd went WILD. Her genuine sweet smile returned, those brown eyes warm, smiling back to the band before continuing.

Her heart fluttered so happily in this moment. She didn't want it to end, and it had only been two song so far.

Allure turned to pep, smiles all about she could see with the upbeat tunes as they chimed out from the instrumental chorus.

 “I've got you...under my skin...”

 At this point she may as well look like she did this for all her life. The way she held herself once she got into the music, letting those dulcet tones sing out she welcomed everyone with her tune. They all seemed to have a good air about them, whether still in their own conversations or finding their attention stuck to the songstress of the stage.

 “I'll be seeing you...”

 Her rhythm went from pep to a slower motion. The expression about her face held the heart of someone yearning. Reminiscing times that either passed or had yet to begin. Her gaze far off, though on occasion  flitting over the crowd and to what few face she could actually see. Her thoughts were elsewhere at this point and hardly on the moment at hand.

 She found herself thinking of him.

 Her heart fluttered all the more.

 It was why her singing sounded all the more heartfelt. She was thinking back to him. She was thinking how her heart and suddenly found itself trapped in the infatuation and adoration of a man she may not have considered at first. A man whom she found so many good traits...morals...just everything. He was loose, wild, but he was grounded. He'd lived through plenty yet still held the youth that had been there for ages, now in a rugged form. He was warm with everyone he'd come across, he'd spoken to. It was everything a person should be...and everything she had wanted in a man.

 Her rhythm returned, body motions just if only slightly as she tapped her foot.

 “All of me, why not take all of me..”

 Though she was returning to some form of reality, she had lost herself in the music. Lost herself in the feelings she'd felt bubbled up from the thoughts that haunted her for weeks, months even. She held so desperately to her body with each word she sang. A song of leaving, yet she held something differently in that song.

Once finished, the crowd gave uproarious applause, the woman smiling so large and giving them a bow. Her arms outstretched before her, blowing kisses to them and not only that, but directing such applause to the lovely band who played with her. She wasn't about to take all the limelight.

 “Thank you all so much! Tonight has been an absolute blessing and you all are amazing for being here! I have one more surprise before we finish up tonight, and I hope ya'll will like it.” She chuckled, a bit of the crowd hootin' and hollering in response. She had to compose herself before continuing on.

“Pardon the cheesy nature of what I'm about to say, but...this song was written for a special someone who may or may not hear it ever. But hey, if they do—I hope they enjoy it. I loved writing it and...well..enough chatter, let's get to it yeah?” The crowd responded with a resounding 'yeah!' which left her to laugh all the more and give a hearty nod.

A brief chat with the band double checking which song, she looked forward again waiting for the start. It was a nice one to wrap up with, and gave her time to wind down for the night as she awaited her cue. This gave her time to really look out to the crowd, smiling and waving to a few people as she swayed to the gentle rhythm of her song.

 Her eyes ended up on one particular person in that crowd.

 The woman's heart seemed to skip a beat and her cheeks grew warm. For a mere second she'd almost forgotten where she was at this point in time until blinking a bit and hearing one of the musical cues for her to start soon.

 “Out of the blue...just out of the blue..”

 Her voice was so terribly soft and smooth, words spilling like honey as she begun her song. Her eyes could not pull away from him, the very man with whom she had written this song about and for. The very man who haunted her thoughts day in and day out, and left her heart all a flutter without prior warning.

  M.R.

 Seated just a few feet away from the stage, he found himself comfortable looking right up at her as she performed her song. Had he been here all this time? Was he wandered about up until now? Funnily enough she could have sworn she had seen someone out of her blinded periphery, but figured it was just wandering patrons of the club and nothing more. Boy was she wrong.

Now she couldn't stop looking at him. He was just...right...THERE. This wasn't a dream, or at least she hoped to god it wasn't. But now...what would come of this? She was thankful for her concentration, not once breaking from her song or shuddering out of frantic desperation because of how crazy her mind was being, or how much her heart was beating so rapidly.

It was for him after all, and even in her movements she presented herself as though he were the only patron in the entire club. That this was all for him. But what would come after all of this was said and done?

She didn't know. All she knew was that her song was coming close to the end, and all she wanted was to saunter out there to him right to the last word. Milk it for what it's worth. Make some sort of impact on a man who was both captivating and confusing to her all at the same time. Confusing only for various reasons, as there was many unknown factors to something like this...

 Wait, where were you going?

 As if on auto pilot, she found her body was moving to the stairs right of her, having somehow whipped that mic off and taking it with her. Her mind was screaming—was she seriously playing up going into the crowd and right towards him?! Was she seriously doing this right now?!? The crowd certainly was eating it up, and now she was literally only a foot away from him. His eyes had not once broken from her form since then, now obviously having her attention.

 Damn, he was...really, really handsome up close...

 There she was, without abandon, serenading the man with whom she'd written up that very climatic song for. Playing up all those charms of a jazz and blues singer, filled to the brim with love and adoration. Her form hovering over him slightly, a hand reaching out to gently caress his jaw in those last few words.

 “You don't know me...but I want to know you...”

 They were there for a few minutes after the music finally came to a close, brought back to reality by the roaring applause of the crowd around them. Her hand slowly finding it's place lightly about his chest, and his hand apparently having rested softly at her side. Sweet jesus. This may as well be a dream.

A courteous, warm smile crossed her lips as she slipped away from M.R., moving back to the stage to properly give her final bows before going backstage. She was only going to be at the club for a bit longer before making way back to her hotel for some much needed rest. She enjoyed this evening more than she ever would have thought and would take this with her for a long, long time.

But now here she was, backstage, finding her body absolutely shaking. She took breath after deep breath to calm the very jitters and goosebumps that lay upon her body. She was giddy, she ecstatic, and in sheer surprise that he was even HERE when she performed. She was not in the least expecting it, only figuring the show and nothing more. She would have been satisfied even then. But now...

 Dear god would she even have the courage to go and mingle as she originally planned??

 It was either that or staying in this now stuffy dressing room. Geez, was it hot in here or just her?

 ….or M.R.. Either answer fit.

 Taking a deep breath, she sipped a bit of water and shook herself as best she could before stepping out. Greeting both staff and patrons as she made way to the bar, she was glad for the brief distraction. Granted her mind was still very much a buzz about the whole situation, she took a seat about the bar and thanked the bartender with whom surprised her with a drink.

A White Russian. Always a liqueur gal, even though she'd partake in whatever drink she could if it didn't leave her sour. It was definitely needed at this point, especially considering just moments later she'd find herself next to a leather jacket clad patron.

 Jesus fucking christ.

 He couldn't help but grin a bit upon seeing her reaction, reaching out to gently pat her arm and steady her from spilling her drink. She did however laugh though setting the glass down near her. When did he sneak up on her just now?

“Didn't mean to frighten you, darlin. Was coming up for another drink and saw you were here—wanted to give a proper thank you to the lovely performance you put on tonight.” The woman’s eyes flit down to her lap, a soft smile on red lips as she looked back up at him giving an attempted bow in her seat.

“Absolutely spectacular.” Gosh, all the more praise from him? What in the world was going on that could leave her so lucky? She was practically beaming, hell, she may as well be as red as a tomato at this point.

“Well you are very welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Seems everyone was up in arms in the best way possible. It's a definite confidence booster considering this was my first live show.” Taking a sip she watched him, brows raising was enough to see the surprise in his face as his shades usually hid his eyes.

“Your first? No kidding...damn girl, you may as well have been a professional with the way you handled yourself up there!” Goddamnit M.R., she's going to be hiding her face this entire time if you spill all those compliments about her.

 Of course...who wouldn't want compliments coming from someone like him?

 She gave him a gentle nudge to his arm and laughed. “Staahhhpp, you're gonna kill me with kindness! But yeah, I mean- I can't say I don't have some experience, but nothing like that. At least, not live professionally on a stage. More like, back at home in those countless days and nights where I was a living, breathing musical.” That stirred only more laughter from her, in turn leaving a wide smile on his face.

“Well hun, it was amazing. I'm glad I was able to catch it when I did. Where you from anyway?”

She set her glass down after another drink, deciding to turn more towards the man so as not to put a kink in her neck. “Just up north; Washington State born and raised. Been there forever and probably still will. I wanted a different setting though for this sort of thing. Was kinda missing California, and they do have some really nice venues.”

M.R. gave a few nods, having been nursing his newly acquired jack and coke relaxing against the bar. “Yeah? Right on, right on...I agree there's plenty here to really play off of. Though Washington is pretty nice to, having been up to Seattle a few times myself.”

Probably plenty, she thought. Of course she was amused that she didn't spill about conventions, about everything he was...but having this simple conversation honestly felt so much more natural, whether he got the hint that she knew who he was or not. Probably did but...hell.

“Yeah, yeah. Ahh man though, I have to tell you. I … I could not be happier with how tonight had gone, ya know? I'm a big lover of music and I wanted to put my best foot forward and give it all I had. I only ever really performed a few times but find it exhilarating.” The two seemed so in tune to each other right at this moment, no major boundaries or expectations of the other, leaving various associations behind. Leaving differential titles in the dust where commonality shined through.

 They just, gelled.

 It had been a few minutes into the conversation, shooting the shit and whatever else came to the surface before M.R. found himself asking more questions.

“So you'd sing just about anything and everything huh? By the sounds of it you may as well be a library of information about musicals and what not.” He gave her a playful pat about her arm, to which she returned. Her mood was that of an eased and relaxed one, leaving no room for overbearing modesty and simply...friendliness.

They'd already introduced each to the other, but the conversations never stopped there.

“Boy I would don the outfits of both Frankenfurter as well as Mary Poppins if I had the chance. Especially Mary, and I'm not even joking because of my name.” M.R. couldn't help but perk at that, quirking a brow.

“Mary Poppins, hands down, has to be one of my favorites of all time. That is awesome. But are you handy with an umbrella?” She couldn't help but giggle into her glass, almost sputtering it on herself.

“I found my way around one or two, and sometimes...it's a jolly holiday with me too.” She pursed her lips, to only rise a good laugh from the man next to her. “Haaaaa...oh you are smooth girl.”

“Smoother than a baby's bottom, I assure you.” The two of them couldn't stop laughing. The merriment was very much needed.

“So now that has me wondering, not the Mary Poppins part obviously—I remember you saying something about the last song you sang tonight. One you actually wrote, yeah?” The woman found herself still for a moment, the warmth of laughter being hit with a twinge of reality. She cleared her throat and gave a nod, her attention all the more on M.R. now.

“You mentioned that song was written for a special someone. Didn't think it cheesy at all, though I'm curious as to who it was written for.” He took a sip of his drink, smiling over at her promptly. “Could see a lot of emotion in that song in particular. If you don't mind me asking.”

 No....not at all.

 Dare she even speak the truth on the matter? Risking herself of any embarrassment to come hurdling back and smack her in the face?

 Deep breath.

 Her body language went from an openness to that of shyness, M.R. watching her intently. He hadn't meant to pry, though being the lucky person for a lovely performer to set their eyes on, he couldn't help in admitting it attracted him a bit, even out of sheer curiosity.

“Okay...promise me this won't sound dumb but-”

“I promise, I promise. Nah...you're fine. Go on.”

Her hearing almost felt numb as the various thoughts pounded through her head. Her attention flitting briefly to how their hands lay so close to each other. How their bodies nearly mirrored one another's. She gulped, giving a brief smile before finally looking up at him, resting her head on her hand.

“If I'm to be, 100% completely honest—I actually wrote that song...hah, I actually wrote it for you.” She was ready to shirk away, her body briefly sinking into itself but instead burying her face into her hand. Goddamnit stop smiling so much! The embarrassment was real.

M.R.'s entire body seemed to nearly mirror her own, a small breathed out laugh before an almost giddy cacophony following thereafter. She felt his hands reach out, rubbing at her arms, the two of them sinking into a slight swaying motion.

“Awww...you wrote that for me? Lil ol' me huh? Goddamn, that is the cutest damn thing I'd ever heard. That's really sweet of you, hun.” Stop, stop this right now. You're being to cute, and you're also pulling me into a hug. STOP IT.

All she could do being embraced as awkwardly as she was was only to give a strange screeching whine, which resulted in ridiculous laughter to follow. She batted at him nearly falling out of her chair, once out of that hug she hid behind her hands and giggled.

“Stop it! Now I'm embarrassed! As if it wasn't obvious enough getting to talk to you just-“ The noises she made sounded silly but it hardly bothered him at all. If anything learning this new information only left the man to give a playful shake at her knees. “Awwww- gosh you’re cute!”

 Once all the laughter had finally died down, his face became softer, and hers…warmer.

 “I will be honest with you that is actually very, very sweet of you. I feel honored anyone would wanna write a song about me like that, so thank you. Really.” To which he gave a gentle squeeze to her hand and smiled at her.

So genuine…her heart practically fluttered in that moment, the touch leaving a spark to run all throughout her body. Shaking herself from her daze, she smiled and nodded in return.”Of course. I mean…who wouldn’t want to? You’re funny, you’ve a light-hearted fun nature that absolutely livens up a room, you’re snarky and …almost wild in your way. Ah..not to rub the ego.” She could go on and on…

 “Oh, please, do rub my ego. It’s quite lonely and cold.”

 “ M.R.-“

 He gave a boisterous laugh kicking his feet and reassuring her that he was joking. Damnit all.

 Hours had past, the club had begun to disperse for the night leaving only a few patrons left, along with the woman and M.R. She gave a long stretch in her chair before sliding out of it.

“Oh man…I really, really needed tonight. Ah man I’d almost forgotten, I was gonna get something to eat once I was done here…” Seems time flew too fast since she’d gotten caught up in conversation with her. M.R. seemed to notice about ready to head out himself. He hadn’t meant to keep her, though admittedly he enjoyed the long conversations he had with her as well…

“I’d taken up quite a bit of your time, huh? I’m sorry about that. Why don’t I take you somewhere to get a bite and drive you back to wherever you’re staying. That sound alright?” Well..ah..she didn’t want to impose, she hadn’t expected to talk this long with him. Her stomach protested before she could however.

 Universe, what were you doing?

 “That’s okay. I didn’t mind it at all. Lemme get changed, grab my stuff and I’ll meet you outside yeah?” M.R. gave a nod, a gentle rub to her back before making his way out. Besides, they had to get that alcohol out of their systems anyway.

Back at the dressing room she’d finally released herself from the confines of that dress, placing it away in her bag and putting on a clean shirt, comfortable flowing pants and her tennis shoes. She wiped up a bit of her makeup but left enough it was still presentable, her hair now in waves about her shoulders.

The small woman made her way out to the front, eyeing left and right until she saw that familiar blue polestar, M.R. idling out on the hood of the car. She waved him down, trotting over to the vehicle before joining him inside and making their way out to find some grub. She didn’t care what it was, as long as it was good, filling, and perhaps left her sleepy. She deserved a damn good meal for doing such a good job.

The rest of this had been the biggest bonus to it, idly chatting with him in deciding where to go, and letting the night breeze calm each other. The radio was low, though in her mind she couldn’t help but run through the playlist, and then …certain songs popped in her mind. Humming from one that he seemed to pick up on. He chuckled to himself and smiled because of it.

“When Mary 'olds your 'and

You feel so grand

Your 'eart starts beatin'

Like a big brass band”

Some time after and bellies full of further enjoyable moments (and food obviously), the two of them were making their way to her hotel. M.R. had been nothing but a gentleman, and someone who made her feel so welcome. In all honestly, it was as if she’d known this man for years and years, poking fun or simply relaxing and talking about whatever came to mind. He was just so dang sweet and fun to hang around…

She was terribly smitten, more so than before.

She didn’t want it to end. The further they got up to that room, the more she wanted it to go on. Figured they should get that far at least in case a bout of exhaustion hit her. Last she needed was to pass out somewhere in the hotel and wake up in confusion.

There they were at her door, chuckling about this or that, M.R. having taken her bag. She smiled up at him, digging for her key.

“Alright, seems we’ve arrived. It has been an absolute pleasure, darlin. You gonna be alright?” M.R. asked, still holding the bag until she was ready to head inside. Her hand hesitated on the door.

Yet again she was compromised at the very thought of different choices. Of meekness or boldness and which road to take. To have him watching her as he did had not helped her in the least where elsewhere he could be distracted momentarily. She seemed troubled by something, lost in thought.

“Yeah I’ll be fine. Thank you. Ah…” She furrowed her brow for a moment before finally turning to him. “There’s one more thing, actually.”

M.R. shifted his weight, speculating in his mind what that one thing could be. “And that is?”

“Well, tonight had gone spectacularly and I’d been shown a rather amazing time by an equally amazing gentleman. Only seems fair I at least return the favor.” Wait..that didn’t come out right. Furrowed brow, face planting straight into her hand with a groan and a rather quirked brow and crooked grin from M.R. She smacked his chest.

“Shut up. That’s not what I meant. What I mean to say is, for all of this…may I at least return the favor with a kiss?”

M.R. shifted his weight once more, seeming to really ‘think’ on such a request. He set her bag down and adjusted himself a bit, coming closer to the smaller woman. “Well…does seem only fair, all things considered. Though you’d given me quite a bit as well sharing that passionate side of yourself.”

 Her heart nearly skipped a beat. She shook her head.

 Shit. Wait. He wasn’t joking with her was he? She hadn’t planned on this. Boldness backfired for a moment before she looked back up at him.

 This is just one night. Just let it happen.

 Reaching up she did her best not to laugh too much with the look he was giving her (and only harder since those glasses did not shade the beautiful blues she loved so much), she pulled him closer to her just inches away from his face. Her heart racing miles per minute finally breaking the distance and placing her lips on his own.

 Never in her life…

The thing was, it was supposed to be a simple token, a chaste kiss and that was it. A nice thank you that was mildly flirtatious if at all- that was it. But she couldn’t seem to pull away from him. The faint tastes residing on those lips, the gentle tickle of his slight scruff against her skin…

Even when she begun to pull away, brown eyes fluttering open she still resided just millimeters away from his face. He seemed to be looking at her the same, his hands resting at her sides now. Her head was too fuzzy to question anything, she simply…let it be. The two hovered close before those lips met once more, prolonging into a series of kisses instead of just one.

He didn’t seem to be stopping her either. If anything went too far she wouldn’t stop him had he pulled back. But he hadn’t…

She found herself up against the door, caught in a slow entanglement of kisses with M.R. holding to his jacket or his shirt. His hands rested at her lower back, thumbs gently rubbing about her spine. She finally pulled back after some time, eyes closed until she had the courage to open them.

He seemed to be just as calm as she was, if not more by how his eyelids drooped.

“…do you…do you want to come inside? At the very least rest up a bit..ah..” What was she doing…

The poor man looked tired, she didn’t want to imagine him trying to get home at this point…yet she didn’t think she’d be asking-

He literally sauntered past her through the door. Right into her room. She was baffled, slowly grabbing up her bag and moving inside as well.

Last thing she knew she was huddled in man’s arms, tousled about that bed with dim lights. Her heart may as well be soaring All that transpired that night

She wouldn’t exchange it for anything in the world.

[writingismyhappytime]

Kiss the Devil (Part 16)

Ricky Horror x reader

Warnings: Language, extreme violence, crushing of hopes and dreams

"Well?" You ask when Ricky doesn't speak, just looks at you.

"Well what?"

"It's over now, isn't it? You know everything, I've nothing left to hide from you." You look down. "Those hunters are still after me, and you're in danger because of it. It's why I have to leave --- I've stayed too long in the music scene anyway."

"You're leaving?" Now you have Ricky's attention again.

"I just said that."

"But --- you love music. I've seen the way you play."

"It doesn't matter if I love it, Ricky. I don't age, remember? I have to leave. I can't continue to be in the limelight in my situation --- why do you think I'm in basically an Unknown band?"

"But..." Ricky hesitates, staring at you. It doesn't seem fair to have to leave, you're so passionate when you play! It's obviously your calling, not soul reaping!

"But...?" You quirk a brow at him, purple strands of hair clinging to your face.

"I just... where will you go?"

"I don't know, it doesn't matter. I wander around all the time, you can't exactly stay in one place in my profession. I might stay with Yoltan for a while."

"Yoltan. The man who brought me here."

"Yep."

"He's the one you're always calling and shit?" Ricky doesn't like the idea of you staying with him, he looks like he just stepped out of a beach magazine.

"He's the one. He's been with me since the start, he's been doing this a long time. We're indebted to the same demon."

"There's... different demons?"

"Of course. There's numerous ones, they're all in competition with each other for the most souls. I hope you never come in contact with one of them." You shudder at the mere idea.

Ricky frowns. "You've been in his service for eighty years --- that's basically a life time."

"It'll probably take me two more before I'm free."

"What happens when you are free?" His blue eyes find yours, refusing to budge.

"That's not going to happen, Ricky."

"But if it did. What happens?"

You bite your lip. "Then I'm done. I don't have to be a reaper anymore, I won't belong to him, and another demon can't put me under contract either. I can choose to keep my immortality, or I can choose to be a normal human again. I can do whatever I wish."

"You can stay young forever?"

"Basically. But that's not going to happen to me for a long time, especially if I don't die first. It's not an easy job."

"Yoltan, he --- he mentioned it could go faster if I helped you ---."

"No." You don't want Ricky thinking like that! "This isn't something you want! Haven't you been listening to anything I've said?"

"Yeah, I have. I've listened to every word. You want to play music, you want to stay in your band. So do it. If --- if I can help you get souls faster ---."

"Ricky ---."

"No, listen." He's already made up his mind. He doesn't want to lose you, but he also doesn't want to be one of you, either. He knows there must be some way in between. "I don't want to be a reaper, Kree, but I don't want you one either. If I can help you get free of that demon, then that's what I want to do! Let me help you!"

You stare at him like he's lost his mind. "What?"

"You heard me. I want to help." He says firmly, feeling his pocket buzz. The band has been calling him for hours, but he's just ignored them. Sometimes there's more important shit then just his career.

"Why would you want to help me?" You're almost confused. "I've been so awful to you."

"I don't know why, I just --- I don't want this life for you." Ricky's being honest, he can't explain himself. He's been drawn to you since the very beginning, captivated with you almost as much as Ryan is. He cares for you, he's crazy about you --- that's all he knows. "And I'll do anything I can to get you out of it."

He's clearly lost his mind, that's what you've decided. Maybe you should tell him some more horror stories, scare him off. He clearly doesn't know what he's agreeing too --- hell, neither do you! You've never done a contract with anyone, you didn't even know it was possible!

Yoltan would have to help you, but you'd want to make sure no matter the end result Ricky wouldn't lose his soul. You'd put in some clause or loophole where he would be okay --- if you decide it's even worth persuing!

"You shouldn't risk yourself like that, Ricky. It isn't worth it."

"Yes, you are." Ricky steps forward, taking your hands in his and squeezing them, touching you for the first time in the hour you'd been together. "You're worth everything to me, Kree."

You gaze at him, your shoulders slumping. You want to put up a fight, some brilliant argument to change his mind, but you can't think of a single one. His words strike a nerve, and all you can do is clutch at his grip.

He really, truly cares for you. No one has since your soldier all those years ago, and even now you wonder if your feelings for each other had been genuine.

The way you feel now for Ricky --- it puts the rest to shame. You'll fight for him, you'd betray the demon and everyone if it came to it. You want to protect him, you don't want him in harms way.

Not even for you.

"I can't let you do this," you finally say, pulling your hands away from him. "Your life is too important. You should treasure it. Be normal."

"I don't want to be --- I want to be with you. I don't want --- a life growing old without you just --- that's not what I want. My future isn't there if you're not in it. If you won't agree to it, then I'll just go to your friend and get it set up."

"Yoltan wouldn't ---."

"I think he would. Why else would he bring me here and even suggest it? He wants you free of the demon, that's clear. I can help with that --- you won't have to do anything if I can bring in souls too!" Ricky can't believe he just said such a ridiculous thing.

You shake your head. "You don't know what you're saying, you don't know how hard it is! This persons soul goes to the demon, Ricky! When they die, they're under his control unless they can broker out their own deal, it isn't simple ---."

"Kree, the only soul I care about is yours." Ricky's hands close around your shoulders, feeling how damp your shirt is still. "I care about you. I'll let the rest of the world be damned if that's necessary!"

You stare at him, at a complete loss of words. You can't begin to understand how he could care about such an awful creature as you, especially with all the awful things you've done. He must think you're a whore, using your body to get what you want with just about anyone. You've treated him so badly, ignored him, lied to him, made him feel foolish and pushed him away when he became too close.

"Why do you even like me?" You finally ask, your voice small. You feel hopeless at this point, beat down. You can't fix anything you've done, Ricky won't listen to you and you don't want such a life for him. He can't begin to understand the things he'll have to do for souls.

"Because you're you," his warm hands rise to cup your face. "You're the woman I feel like I've known my entire life, bitchiness and all. I'm more comfortable around you then I've ever been anyone else and I've hardly known you a few months."

You sniffle, your hands rising to close over his. You wish it was easy for you to express yourself as he did, to be able to tell him all your muddled and twisted emotions.

You've been a reaper for so long, you don't know how to be anything else. You've been a soul reaper for longer then you'd been a human now, it's like that part of you is just a distant memory.

You're just... what your are.

"I don't want you to do the things I've had too," you say after a moment, gazing at him. "I've hurt so many people, Ricky. I lied and tricked them into giving me what they want, and I left them behind no matter how they felt about me. I'm not kind, I'm ruthless, and I've destroyed people's lives --- we all have. I've damned them."

"If they're stupid enough to give up their soul, that's their own problem." Ricky says firmly, hell bent on getting his way. He's not changing his mind. "They should protect it better."

"Most people don't believe in souls, Ricky. They don't understand."

"Then they should change their beliefs!"

"Ricky," you start to sigh, your chest feeling heavy. You don't like this, you hate that Yoltan had put you into this kind of situation. You care for the musician so much, you don't wish for him to suffer like you have.

You're set against the idea.

You won't change him, you won't make a deal with him, and you'll threaten Yoltans life if he even so tries!

"Do you not want to be with me?" Ricky finally asks, starting to feel a little hurt. You keep telling him no, when he sees it as the only opportunity the two of you have to be together. "Is that why you don't want me ---?"

"Ricky, you know that's not it," you mutter, pulling away from him in aggravation. "I do want to be with you, but I want to be with you, not what you'll become once you start taking souls. Do you think you'll be the same person once it's all done with?"

"I don't see why not." He says stubbornly, refusing to see your point.

"Fine, I'll tell you why. Do you know how many people I've slept with?" You demand, bristling. You'll make him understand!

He shakes his head, not wanting to know.

"Hundreds, probably. Some of them at the same time, in more ways then you'd like to think. Men, women, it doesn't matter to me, they're all the same in the end. I've had to do some shady things, I've had to mentally break people down until all they can think about is me, until they'll do anything to make me happy --- then I leave them. I mindfuck them into thinking I'm the only person who can make them happy, and then I leave them without another thought. I ruin lives, I take away people's hopes and dreams, it's more then just their souls. Until you understand that, until you really grasp what awful things you're gonna have to do, I'll never let you be a reaper, Ricky."

He's almost glaring at you as you finish, his fists clenched at his sides. He gets it, shitty things have to be done. He knows he'll have to do them, he'll do whatevers necessary. He's willing to give up everything for you.

"Just --- be normal, while you have a chance. Don't let me be the reason your life ends." You shake your head. "I wouldn't wish this on you, Ricky. I wouldn't wish this on anyone."

He wants to say something, he wants to pitch a fit and demand for you to make him a reaper --- he wants to save you. He just, he just doesn't know how to convince you! You have to know he's sincere at this point, that he really means what he's saying and that he cares about you --- neither of you are saying the L word, he feels like that will run you off faster then anything else.

Dammit, he's not letting this go.

He's going to become a reaper, and he's going to help you whether you like it or not. His minds made up, you can't stop him, and that's that!

Now.

He just has to figure out how to go around you.

To the blonde guy.

Surely he could help, right?

Seems like a great plan anyway.

Or the start of one.

He's not an idiot, he can see how fervently you don't want him like you. He understands every word you say, even the awful shit. You've done despicable things to people for their souls, but you're just trying to survive yourself. He doesn't blame you for that.

He'd rather die then watch you be in service to that demon any longer.

"Kree ---."

"No, no I won't let you do this to yourself," you mumble, your violet eyes flicking to the door. "You have a chance to live out a long, boring human life where you die and have families and live in one place. I don't have that, and I never will. You're not going to toss all of that away, not because of me! I won't ruin your life!"

"It's my life, if I want to ruin it I will!" Ricky starts, keeping himself planted between you and the door, seeing your panicked eyes; you're like an animal caught in headlights.

"You sound like a child!"

"You're not going to run from this, Kree, I won't let you! We can be together, we don't have to end anything --- hell, we don't have to leave the music scene if we don't want too --- you don't have too! Between the two of us, you'll have plenty of souls and you won't have to work as hard! And, and since I have fans ---!"

"You're not taking your fans souls!"

"You can't tell me you haven't."

"That's beside the point!"

"No its not! Dammit, Kree!" He's getting so frustrated! Why won't you just listen to him!?

"I'm sorry!" You gasp, and then take off. Ricky doesn't have time to catch you, you're just a blur in his eyes. You move so quickly you're behind him before his brain registers you've moved. He turns around, his fingers starting to reach for you just as you reach the door.

You wrench it open, your eyes hot and burning, feeling the cold air immediately brush against your heated skin.

There's a loud POP, and you feel a slight burn in your arm that you hardly notice. You and the man stare at each other, standing on either side of the hotel door, surprised. You hear the click, and you look down, seeing the shining black gun in his hand.

Your body goes on autopilot, your hand closing around his wrist, bending it at such an angle you hear bones crunching just as he begins to scream. You take the weapon from him, spinning him around like a rag doll and ramming him into the open door, hissing.

Dammit!

How the hell did these hunters find you already!?

"Ricky, you need to go!" You gasp, glancing over at him. "You need too ---."

"Kree." His voice is weak, and you hesitate, staring at his bloodless face. Your eyes draw down, and for a few seconds, your heart stops. Blood is forming on his t shirt, just below his where his hand is pressing against his stomach.

Oh no.

No no no!

Your ears begin to roar as you see Ricky start to go down, his eyes rolling up into his skull as he collapses. You let go of the hunter, you completely forget about him as you rush forward, catching Ricky just before he hits the ground.

"Ricky!" You stare down, your heart throwing itself against your rib cage over and over, your panic making your hands hover uselessly above his bleeding wound.

He's bleeding so quickly, his shirt is soaked and his hand is stained red where he'd pressed it against the wound.

Shit!

"Ricky!" You hiss, frantically grabbing the blanket dangling off the bed inches from you. You ball it up, pushing his hand away to press it against the bullet wound. He immediately makes a sound of pain, glazed eyes flashing open only to close again as his head fell back.

Shit!

Fuck!

"Don't you fucking die on me!" You gasp, fumbling for the cell phone in your back pocket. "Jesus, Ricky, please don't die!"

You curse as you drop your phone, your fingers slick. You frantically smack the screen, click the button --- the damned thing won't turn on! The rain must have fried it, you'd never taken it out of your wet pocket.

What a time for it to fuck up!

"Fuck!" You drop the useless phone, turning back to your dying boyfriend. You press harder against the wound, unsure what else to do. You've never tried to save someone's life before!

"You damn bitch!" You hear hear a voice gasp, and your head turns as you suddenly remember your attacker.

Oops.

You stare at him, seeing him cradling his wrist against his chest, the gun shaking in his remaining hand as he aims it at you.

You glare at him, but don't move. You continue to kneel beside Ricky, holding the blanket down, feeling his blood soaking into your clothing.

Dammit!

"You fucking shot him, you idiot!" You snarl, knowing your eyes are flaring brighter. "He's an innocent, he doesn't have anything to do with this!"

"I --- I didn't mean to shoot him," the man gasps, obviously shaken and in pain. "It was an accident!"

"For fucks sake --- stop shaking that gun at me and call a damned ambulance!"

"No way am I taking this gun off you!"

"Then get the fuck out!" You don't care about the man at all, all you care about is Ricky. You turn, looking back down at him, seeing the pained look on his face.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, knowing how much pain he must be in. "I'm so sorry, Ricky, I'll fix this. I swear I will!"

You hadnt wanted him to be a reaper but you hadn't wanted him to die either!

This isn't --- this is bullshit!

It's not fair!

There's too much for him to do!

This is going to force your hand, isn't it? You're going to have to change him, that's just all there is to it --- you'd rather him be alive then dead.

Goddammit!

This isn't what you wanted!

He shouldn't be suffering because of you!

You --- you have to do something!

Yoltan crosses your panicked mind, and you fervently wish he'd stayed, that he would know what to do --- that he would have a way to save Ricky's mortal life.

You hear a snapping noise.

You look back at the door, at the water splashing into the room, soaking the carpet. You're relieved when you see the hunter fall, his head twisted grotesquely as he hits the floor.

"That was an unpleasant twist," Yoltan huffs, kicking the door shut behind him before anyone has the misfortune of walking by.

"How are you here?" You rasp, staring at him through your hair as he walks forward, not a drop of rain on him.

"I was only next door, you didn't really think I'd leave you with him alone?" He snorts, squatting down beside you. "I heard the pop and I came over."

"He needs a hospital," you say quickly, looking down. Ricky is making choking noises, and his pale lips are quickly staining red. "Now!"

"He won't survive the ride," Yoltan hesitates, looking at the location of the wound. "It looks like the bullet hit one of his lungs, it's filling with blood. He's choking."

"No, he can be saved! Call 911!"

"(Y/N)," Yoltans hand closes around your trembling shoulder, a look on his face you know well. "He won't survive the wound no matter where he goes."

"But he's --- he's going to die!"

"Yes. Unless you do something."

Do something!?

"I don't want him to be a reaper!" You hiss, shaking your head frantically. "That's not the life he deserves!"

"He won't have a life at all if you don't," he responds bluntly. "Make a contract with him."

"I --- I don't know how. I don't want him to lose his soul at all!"

"Then we'll fix it so he won't. He wanted to become one, didn't he? He wants that immortal life with you --- no matter the cost. He wants to be a reaper, and he's your ticket to freedom as well. Make. A. Contract."

You make a pained sound, looking down at Ricky again, sensing how little time he has left. You don't want to do this to him, you'll never forgive yourself, but, but --- you never had a choice in this, did you?

Is it just some cruel joke of the fates? To make you think you could actually spare someone?

Everyone you meet suffers, no matter what.

"He doesn't have much time."

No, you can't do this to him! It's a curse!

"(Y/N)! He's going to die if you do nothing!"

Oh, goddammit!