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nosyp · 3 months ago

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Ride or Die

Warnings = mentions of non-con🔞 , captivity, false hope, infantilization, use of guns, killing/murder

Pairings = Bonten x fem! reader

Summary = Meeting them was a mistake. A fatal mistake on your end. Now you're trapped in their operation.

Word count = 5.7k words

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You’re running, but you’re not fast enough. They’re probably just right behind you. You had no idea what you were going to do even if you were to escape; there was no safe house waiting for you whatsoever.

Who are they? And why are they chasing you?

Ah right— Mikey and his lackeys.

He probably had hundreds, but none come close to Kokonoi, Sanzu, Mochi, Kakucho, Takeomi and those freak siblings, Ran & Rindou. They were practically a package, if you messed with one of them, you messed with the others.

You couldn’t remember, but it was Kakucho? Maybe he was the one that offered you a job at his company. It was a simple task really, just be there for a few days of the week, not even everyday.

Seemed easy enough, but that was your mistake for thinking that it was just an innocent job. The job being having their cocks shoved deep inside your throat or deep inside you 24/7. Believe it or not, it felt kind of weird when you didn’t have something inside you. It was just the effect of it overtime.

Ever since the day you crossed paths with them, your life just seems to keep getting worse. From how controlling they get to how possessive they are over you, it was annoying.

You swore you could count how many times they let you out of the office with just one hand, and it was only three times. One was for clothes shopping and even then they bought a huge amount of clothes for you at once to avoid any unnecessary shopping trips.

You still felt that lingering feeling of their touches, even if it happened long ago. The way their hands just seemed to invade any non-existent boundaries just seemed to make you even more uncomfortable than you already were.

You remembered how you begged to let them let you put your clothes on by yourself. It was like they were convinced you couldn’t be trusted to do simple tasks, it was like they were convinced you were a child of some sort.

“Stop it, I can do it myself. Just let me go in the changing room, it’s not like I have any chance to escape,” you complain to Ran, even though you knew the argument was only going to come in from one ear and exit the other ear.

“Hmm? I’m just tryna help, just let me help you,” he says with an iron grip on the door of the changing room, not allowing you to close it.

And after that, the memory just blurs… but you just can’t shake off the uncomfortable feeling.

That time was also the time they implemented an “unwritten” rule of giving you 0 privacy. Whether it’d be showering, changing clothes, or even sleeping… one of them always had to be beside you, breathing down your neck as you did simple activities.

It didn’t happen all the time, but it happened most of the time. They did it mostly to annoy you if anything, they knew how you hated having no time for yourself, but technically, everyone hates it.

The second time was to have you trick their client into believing that they aren’t being threatened. The same way they had tricked you into believing that they were trust-worthy.

“S-sir please, they aren’t dangerous at all!” the lies spill from your mouth.

You had felt bad for the man; actually you felt bad for anyone who had the bad fortune of getting anywhere near Bonten.

“You’re clearly just as messed up as all the others! How could a sweet woman like you fall for their type of behaviour!” he spat out, each word hitting you like a sharp blade to the chest.

You could see the disappointment in his eyes. You felt like a daughter who just got scolded for failing the recent math test. Speaking of tests, the third and last time was… a test as well.

In some sick way, they all had collectively agreed to give you that false hope. The false hope of believing that you were able to be free.

You remembered it like it was yesterday. The door was wide-open, well not really. But that day, there weren’t any guards stationed near the entrance, and none of them were seen. You should’ve known. After all those weeks and months of carefully watching you, why would you be left alone all of a sudden?

You remembered the series of events. It started when you stood in the common room, looking through the shelves on the walls, the furniture, and the decor. They barely bothered to give you any sort of entertainment. They hadn’t let you have a phone, tablet, nor a laptop. Actually, they didn’t let you have anything.

The boredom drove you crazy; it was pure torture. That was when you started fidgeting with the door… and you realised.

The door wasn’t locked… it was unlocked.

You looked around at the surroundings, a lump starting to form in your throat. The usual watchful eyes, the always-present guards were all gone, as if they’ve dissipated into thin air. The hallway stretched before you, eerily silent, untouched by the suffocating presence that had come with your every move for months.

For the first time, there was no one. No lingering figures in the corners, no distant murmurs of conversation, no sharp clicks of your dress shoes against the polished floors. Just stillness.

And that was when the thought crept in, fragile and dangerous.

‘I could be free.’

The possibility lodged itself in your chest, a spark of hope so reckless it almost hurt. Your fingers twitched at your sides, your body was torn between instinct and disbelief. It had to be a trick. It had to be.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if— by some impossible twist of fate— they had finally let their guard down?

But, no, of course they didn’t. They had given you that chance just to mess with you.

You remembered the aftermath of the ‘escape’. You remembered how they held you down and raped you. They claimed that it was a necessary lesson for you.

You remembered how you whimpered, begged, and screamed for them. The memory still rung in your head like a death knell.

And, even after that, you dared to try and escape again. That’s what you’re doing now. You’ve been trapped long enough to know that they’ve probably added drastic measures just in case you got too far but you highly doubted it was that bad.

The premises was a mix of an apartment and a work building. Half of it was dedicated to tending to business and the other half was for living in. And you had the oh so unfortunate experience of living in it.

Well, whatever, you’re here now.

People say “run like a girl” means to run for your life. And you agree with that. The way you’re running right now was like a crazed lunatic on drugs. Your lungs were on fire. Your legs were on fire. Everything was on fire. You disagreed with alcohol, but the way it burned your tongue helped burn away the pain.

You weren’t planning to escape right now, but you were planning to escape. The reason you despised school and having a nine-to-five job is because of how suffocating it felt. This is how you feel now and forever with them.

As mentioned before, you’ve tried to run so, so many times— yet they keep capturing you and bringing you back.

They were like annoying mosquitos who chased you around for blood, never able to leave you alone and similarly, hunting you down for blood. The only difference being their motive.

You lost track of time ever since you started running. Last time you checked it was 7.50 AM in the morning and you just finished breakfast with the same group of people who kept you captive.

It was like hell.

“Darling, why haven’t you eaten anything…? We are soooo worried about you,” Sanzu joked, earning a chuckle from all the other members.

“You should eat. We spent good money on the food.” firmly stated by Mikey. He was never like the others. He always had that intense, serious, terrifying aura surrounding him at all times— but don’t get it twisted, he was just as messed up.

“Fuck you.” you thought to yourself, but, oh, how badly you wanted to say it to them.

All you had— no, can— do right now was just to focus on running. You had managed to run all the way onto the main road. You threw your arms up high in the air around in hopes of gaining any driver’s attention, and luckily you did.

As soon as the door to the red pickup truck opened, you quickly blurted out: “Please, take me far, far away from here.”

“Do what the lady says fool, DRIVE.” a lady from the back suddenly appeared out of nowhere and said. She had beautiful, shiny, blonde hair travelling down her back and her lips were the perfect shade of pink… okay get yourself straight now.

“Alright! Calm it down a notch would’cha?” he says, each word being spit out.

Breathlessly and shockingly, you managed to mutter a small “Thank you so much…”.

“No worries! What’s it all about anyway? Runnin’ from yer parents?” she asks.

“No… no… nothing of that sort. I’m… just running from an…ooh…! Wait a second… let me catch my breath…” you gasp.

“It’s alright, just take your time,” the man in the driver seat replies.

Your gaze drops down, scanning your legs. The place was isolated, it was practically in the middle of nowhere, but not really… rather, it was in the middle of the woods. A few seconds of silence passed by to let yourself collect your thoughts and scene of events.

Wait… what even happened?

What date is today anyway?

All you remembered was seeing a job offer at… Bonten… building? There was a job interview for you on July 28th, 2017. You accepted it… and… wait what happened?

—

Around 6 months ago~

Your heels clicked sharply against the polished marble floor, each step measured exactly the same distance from one another and deliberate as you approached the receptionist’s desk. Yes, it might’ve been a bit too extra but you might as well since you’ve already gone through and through with all the other preparations.

Today, you had actually left behind your usual overstuffed purse to minimize the risk of dropping your bag and letting all the contents fall out and also for a lesser chance of drawing unwanted attention since having an extremely full bag did somewhat draw attention to you in an expected yet unexpected way.

You were dressed in a fitted black blazer to what people would say “over-ironed” white, buttoned shirt. Every piece of your outfit was meticulously chosen to show that you were there for business. A tight pencil skirt hugged your form, perfectly cinched at the waist by a thin belt and even your hair and makeup were flawless, every detail put together for the sake of looking professional.

Click. Click. Click.

“Good evening ma’am, do you know where to meet uhmm… Kakucho Hitto?” you ask her.

Her eyes darken before she looks up at you. Her eyes seemed dull, as if there were no emotions behind her. Well, now you understand why.

You should’ve noticed how her demeanor was back then. You could’ve chalked it up to just a “bad day”, but they way she acted was abnormal.

“Yes, he— I mean Boss Kakucho is on floor 10, third room to the right.” she firmly states.

“Thank you…” you gratefully say to her.

Ding!

The elevator doors slide open smoothly with a quiet chime following it, and you walk in. Oh, there’s also another person. He had… red and white eyes? It was rare enough to see someone with heterochromia let alone see someone with red eyes and/or white eyes only.

"She said the third room to the right… right?" you mutter to yourself, forgetting about the man beside you in the elevator.

A low chuckle comes from him, but barely hear-able from the low hum of the elevator. But you still shift your head towards him, locking gazes.

"Talking to yourself, huh?" His voice is smooth, but there’s something in his tone that makes your skin get goosebumps.

You stiffen slightly before forcing a small laugh. "Oh, yeah… Just making sure I don’t get lost."

His gaze lingers on you, dark eyes sharp and unreadable. "Third room to the right. Floor 10." A pause. "That means you're going to Kakucho's office."

You blink your eyes at him. "Uh… yeah. Do you know him?"

There’s a sudden, well not really sudden, shift in the air— a suffocating one at that, it’s subtle but inescapable. He exhales, tilting his head just enough for the overhead lights to cast a small ray of light along his sharp features.

"Oh…" he says. "That’s me."

The elevator dings. The doors slide open. But for some reason, you don’t move.

It reveals a long and narrow hallway lined with the same identical doors everywhere. The dim lights above cast small, faint shadows along the walls. It somehow made the area feel both like an endless void and yet… claustrophobic at the same time.

“Come with me,” he states firmly, ordering you. You do follow him and to your luck, the interview went smoothly.

That’s why you came back, no?

Now that you’re thinking about it, you weren’t lucky at all.

—

Once you’ve gathered everything in chronological order, the story comes out like a word vomit.

“U-ugh… So it StartsWithMeGettingAJobInterviewAndIGotTheJobButTurnsOutTheWholeCompanyWasJustAHugeMafiaThingOrSomethingAndAfterThat…”

And it continues…

With every word spilling out of your mouth, the two other people in the car just look even more shocked. You swore their jaws only dropped further on the ground as the story-telling went on.

“W-wait… so you’re running away from… them right now?” she clarifies with you. She doesn’t seem too confused about the story since, it’s just basically torture on your end.

“YES!” you say to her, glad that she understands for the most part.

“S-should we… call the cops…?” the guy asks, looking concerned as hell.

You stare at him for a while, completely unresponsive. Then, you swallowed the lump growing in your throat. “N-no… you can’t do that. If I get caught again, it’s going to be even worse if the cops get involved.”.

“Dude! This is crazy. I feel like it’ll get worse if the cops DON’T get involved?” the guy asks, slightly laughing at your logic. He takes his arms off the steering wheel for a while to show his shock and turns his body to you.

Your body jolts at the unexpected rise of volume. “I get it but look, I-I’m sorry… but I don’t want this to get worse!”

“Girl, you’re absolutely delusional if you don’t think we are gonna call the cops.” she says before whipping out her phone from her purse.

“Wait— no— stop!” you yell. Instinctively, you try to jump to the backseat to rip her phone from her hands.

“Hey! What the hell?!” the guy screams as your sudden shove jerks the wheel, causing the car to go into a wild, sudden swerve.

SCREEECH— SKRRRTT—

The tires shriek against the pavement, the entire vehicle violently turning left, then right, then left again— nearly spinning out of control. The force slams you against the door roughly, your heart starting to hammer against your chest as the car skids dangerously close to the separator thing in the middle.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” he shouts as he tries to regain control of the car. His grip starts to tighten around the wheel, causing his knuckles to turn white from gripping the wheel.

“Ugh—! Just let us help you!” she shrieks, trying to loosen your grip on her wrist.

“No! Y-you can’t!” you yell back at her.

“GIRLS STOP IT!” the driver screams loudly. The outsiders probably heard it too.

“Alright fine, we won’t call the cops. Well, not until we find you somewhere safe.” the girl subsides.

“Thank you…” you say, going back to your seating position and crossing your arms angrily.

The car goes quiet for a few moments, all of you sharing the awkward moment. The only sound you could hear at this point was the hum of the car engines and the honking and yelling from the outside.

The silence was unnerving, but it was probably best that no one talked at the moment.

That was until you let out a sigh and finally muttered a response. “Fine… you guys promise to call the cops when I get to a safe—”

Then an impact came out of nowhere. One second, the streets were quiet with just the quiet sounds of the road along with the car and suddenly, the next being a pair of headlights cut through the dark, and then—

A huge crash.

The vehicle fell sideways. Metal screeched against the cemented ground. Glass exploded, sending shards everywhere. The seatbelt went deeper into your chest, locking you in place as the car spun out of control before slamming to a stop.

For a moment, there was only the ringing in their ears. The scent of burnt rubber. The weight of shock pressing down on their ribs.

Then— footsteps. They were heavy, terrifying.

A silhouette approached through the haze of broken headlights, the soft click of a lighter from the silence. The fiery glow of a cigarette revealed a familiar emblem embroidered in black.

Bonten. It was them.

Your stomach dropped. This wasn’t just an accident, no, this was your kidnapping version two.

—

You woke up with a bag over your head. You could tell the room was empty with how any small sound was echoing since there was nothing to absorb the sound, only the walls reflecting it.

Your wrists were tied behind your back and so were your ankles. They were starting to hurt with just how tight they were around your joints. The ropes seemed to be those huge, heavy ropes that you would use on a farm animal rather than a human. There were sharp strands standing astray from the pack, sharply rubbing against your skin. It’s going to hurt, just like their usual trademark.

You tried to jump up, but the only result was an echo of the metal chair moving.

Then— the door locks clicked.

“Get in quicker, you dumb whore.” Rindou orders. You’re sure it was Rindou, the voice matched his and so do the words.

“Alright, alright! Just be nicer— I’m a fragile girl okay?!” a female voice yells back.

The bag is ripped off your head, and now you can see. You can see the girl from before kneeled in front of you, her hands tied behind her back as well. Shit.

“Hey!” you jump. “P-p-p-please don’t hurt her!”

Ran moves over to you, hands moving above your head… and it goes down… and again… and again… in a stroking pattern. It might’ve been lovely… if only not for the situation. Then, he leans down to your ear to whisper, “Y’know… you should’ve just obeyed our rules.”

Right. Their three “simple” rules. Don’t escape, don’t disobey orders, and don’t do anything without one of them being present.

Click.

The sound of a gun.

And it was pressed onto her temple.

“Any last words to her?” Sanzu asks, his finger on the trigger.

“W-wait! I’ll do anything!” you suddenly yell out.

“Ohohoh… you really think you can do that now…? It’s far far too late for that now, darling.” Sanzu says, sadistic eyes drilling holes into you.

Shoot. What are you supposed to do? Someone who wasn’t supposed to get involved got involved and now they’re held at gunpoint while you were bound onto a chair, unable to help them.

Your breath hitched as you struggled against the restraints, the rope starting to drill into your wrists. Panic clawed at your chest, drowning out every rational thought. She was innocent, shaking… and she squeezed her eyes shut, her entire body trembling under the cold press of Sanzu’s gun.

“Please—” you choked out, voice raw with desperation. “Please, she’s not involved! This has nothing to do with her!”

Sanzu’s lips curled into a grin, his finger teasing the trigger. “Oh, but she is now,” he sings, tilting his head. “And whose fault is that?”

You.

It’s your fault.

Your mistake.

Your punishment.

“Please,” you whisper, throat tight. “I’ll take whatever you want. Just let her go.”

Ran lets out an amused hum, his hand still lazily stroking your head like you were some pet begging for mercy. “That’s cute,” he murmurs. “But you know the rules. No disobedience. No escaping. No acting without one of us.”

He clicks his tongue, and his grip tightens in your hair, yanking your head back painfully. “And you broke every single one.”

Sanzu’s laugh is light, almost playful. “It’s a shame, really. She seems so… sweet.” He leans down, his voice dripping mock sympathy. “Go on. Say your goodbyes.”

Tears burn in your eyes. “Please…”

Your voice cracks.

Sanzu sighs. Then—

Click.

Bang.

The sound rips through the air like a whip, and for a second, time stops.

A scream lodges in your throat. Blood splatters all over. It’s warm, sticky and all over your skin, and when you force your eyes open, your stomach turns to ice.

The girl slumps forward, motionless.

Sanzu hums, spinning his gun on his finger as if he didn’t just pull the trigger. “Oops,” he chuckles. “Guess you were too late.”

Ran releases your hair, letting your head drop. The weight of the moment crushes you, suffocating, unbearable.

Then, a hand cups your cheek— gentle, almost tender. You flinch.

“Shhh,” Ran coos, tilting your face up to meet his violet eyes. “You brought this on yourself, sweetheart.”

Sanzu crouches in front of you, resting his gun under your chin, forcing you to look at him through blurry, tear-filled eyes.

“Now,” he purrs, “let’s talk about…” Sanzu moves towards the door, pressing the door handle and opening the door.

It was to reveal the other guy. The guy who was supposed to drive you to safety. But only because you demanded him to. How’d you get 2 people killed in less than a day?

Sanzu grins, stepping aside to let the man stumble in. He was barely standing. Blood dripped from several spots on his head, staining the collar of his shirt. His breaths were ragged, uneven, as if he had been beaten within an inch of his life before being dragged here like a trophy.

"Look who we found at the scene lurking around," Rindou drawls from behind him, arms crossed. "He was trying to escape but… he was not very subtle, was he?"

Your stomach churns. He wasn’t supposed to get caught. He was supposed to be long gone out of this hellhole, far away from them. And yet, here he was.

The man lifts his head, eyes meeting yours. Defeated.

Broken.

Sanzu leans against the chair you’re tied to, sighing dramatically. “Now, I am gonna let this slide. Maybe teach you a little lesson and send you back to your pretty little room.” His fingers trail along the side of your face before he grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at the man. “But then you had to go and involve him too. How greedy.”

“Sanzu,” you whisper, voice barely audible. “Please.”

He pouts mockingly. “Aw, you sound so sad.” He spins the gun between his fingers before pointing it at your driver. "You already lost one. Think you can handle losing another?"

Ran chuckles, draping an arm over your shoulders. "Or maybe," he muses, "we make this interesting. How about a little… choice?"

Sanzu grins, eyes glinting with something wicked. "Yeah. That sounds fun." He crouches down next to you, tilting his head. "So, what'll it be, sweetheart? Him?" He gestures to the beaten man. "Or you?"

The room feels colder. Your pulse pounds in your ears.

There’s no right answer.

There never was.

Because you knew either way, you’d both die. It’s just they’d probably let you live longer, just to live with the guilt.

“So… how is it Y/N?” Takeomi asks, his deep raggedy voice echoing through the room.

“Shoot me.” you answer, with almost no hesitation.

“WRONG!” Sanzu yells before quickly moving the gun over to him, and pressing the trigger.

Bang.

The shot rings out, sharp and final.

Your body jerks against the restraints, a strangled noise catching in your throat as the man crumples to the floor. Blood pools beneath him, spreading like ink across the cold concrete. His chest shudders once— twice— before falling still.

Gone.

A choked sob forces its way past your lips. You did this. You led him here. You got him killed.

Sanzu exhales, almost bored, before twirling the gun and slipping it back into his holster. "Tsk, tsk. You really thought we’d let you choose?" He crouches, tilting his head with a smirk. "That’s cute."

Ran clicks his tongue, brushing a hand through his hair before crouching next to you. His fingers brush your cheek, almost affectionate. Almost. "See, sweetheart, it was never about the choice. It was about watching you break."

And you were.

Piece by piece.

Sanzu claps his hands together, standing back up. "Now that the fun’s over, let’s move on, yeah?" He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

His grin stretches wider, wicked and sharp. "You’re ours. You always were. And after this? You always will be."

Ran hums in agreement, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. "Now, be a good girl and behave, alright?"

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Because you can’t escape.

Then, the door opens once again. It’s Kakucho.

“Hmm, are you guys done?” his hand still on the handle, he glances shortly at the scene inside the room. “Clean it up. Once you’re done, bring her down. Mikey called.”

Then, the door shut behind him.

Your breath hitches. Mikey.

The name alone sends a shiver down your spine.

Sanzu clicks his tongue, rocking back on his heels before standing up. “Well, you heard him,” he sighs, rolling his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ran hums, giving your face one last slow, mocking pat before standing as well. “We should make her presentable first,” he muses, glancing at the blood smeared across your face. “Mikey won’t like her looking like a mess.”

You barely register their words. Your ears are still ringing, your body trembling as you stare at the lifeless body in front of you.

It’s over. He’s gone.

Because of you.

A hand grips your arm, yanking you forward. You stumble, legs barely holding you up as Ran steadies you with an almost gentle touch.

“Come on now, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice deceptively soft. “Let’s not keep Mikey waiting.”

Sanzu only grins, eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. “Oh, I can’t wait to see what he has planned for you.”

And as they drag you out of the room, past the blood, past the bodies.

—

Somehow, their definition of making you presentable was putting you in a super see-through, lacy lingerie. It was a shade of pastel pink, and had a beautiful motive… it’s just the situation wasn’t as pretty.

The humiliation burns hot inside you, it’s hotter than the fear.

Sanzu lets out a low whistle, arms crossed as he leans against the wall. “Damn, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “You clean up nice.”

Ran smirks, tugging at the delicate lace strap on your shoulder before letting it snap back against your skin. “Mikey’s gonna love this.”

You swallow down the lump in your throat, glaring at them despite the helplessness weighing you down. Your arms are bound, your body exposed, and yet, they look at you like you’re nothing but entertainment.

“You bastards,” you seethe, voice trembling.

Sanzu only grins wider, stepping closer until the cold barrel of his gun rests under your chin again. He tilts your head up, forcing you to meet his manic gaze.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he purrs, voice sickly sweet. “You stopped being in control the second you thought you could defy us.”

Ran sighs, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve. “Enough playing around. Let’s go.”

Then, without warning, they grab you, forcing you forward. You stumble, the cold air prickling against your exposed skin.

You go down the halls, then down the stairs. And when the doors swing open…

Mikey is waiting.

You expect to be slapped, beaten, punched, but no. He doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he brings you out into the cold, dark night. Seeing the dark forest in front of you reminded you of the escape attempts.

His touch is rough, unforgiving. He releases you from his grip and pushes you out past the threshold. You stare out at the forest.

The forest is dark— suffocatingly so. The thick cluster of leaves letting small traces of moonlight through the dense branches. The air is humid and thick with the scent of earth, soil and death. The smell was the kind of smell that holds onto you and makes itself at home in your lungs.

The ground beneath is uneven. Roots coming out from underground and damp leaves creating uneven bumps on the ground. Twisted branches reaching out reminded you of your own fingers reaching out for help. They create shadows that move along with the faint flickers of movement, never failing to frighten you everytime.

It’s silent. But the silence isn’t empty. It’s laced with something, something just out of reach. It’s the kind of silence that makes the hairs stand up, one that messes your head up. It’s the kind of darkness that doesn’t just hide things. It’s like swallowing anything and anyone to enter whole.

You could barely see anything through the darkness, but those are the things you remembered from the many times you ran through the forest. It was kind of like your second home at that point.

Nonetheless, you were still far too shocked from before.

“W-what the hell d-d-do you want me to do…?” you ask, shivering since the sheer clothing didn’t do much in shielding you from the cold.

“Go. If you wanted to create such a huge scene, then do it. Run. We’re letting you have one last attempt.” Mikey responds coldly, completely inconsiderate of the situation you were put in before.

“W-what…?” you ask again. What the hell?

He lets out a loud, disappointing sigh before coming closer to your fallen form. “Go have one last run around the forest before we chain you up.” he pauses before crouching down to meet your eyes. “I have Sanzu, Takeomi, Kokonoi, Ran, Rindou, Mochi and Kakucho waiting out there for you. Once you’re done with your shenanigans, they’re going to bring you back.”

“H-huh…?” you stare at him in disbelief. “I-I-I-”

“You-you-you what?”

“I don’t want to…”

“Didn’t you hear me? Have one last run, go. I’m not repeating myself anymore.” he says with a finger softly stroking your cheek.

“I-I don’t want to… I want to stay with you… Mikey…” you say defeatedly.

Mikey’s eyes darken. Something shifts. The moment of forced gentleness vanishes like a wisp of smoke, replaced by something colder, sharper.

His fingers, once ghosting along your cheek, suddenly tangle in your hair—and then he yanks. Hard. Your head snaps back, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as pain blooms along your scalp.

“You want to stay with me?” he echoes, voice eerily calm, but there’s a quiet rage simmering beneath it, barely restrained. His grip tightens, pulling your face inches from his. “After all that fucking running? After making us chase you down like some pathetic little stray?”

His lips curl, disgust flashing in his darkened gaze. “You really think saying that now is gonna change anything?” He tugs again. “Don’t act helpless now, sweetheart. You weren’t so eager to stay when you were trying to claw your way out of here.”

He leans in, voice dropping to a whisper, but it’s anything but gentle. It’s venomous. “Go run. Make it fun for us. Or do you want me to drag you out there myself?”

“N-no… please. I just want to stay with you… I’m sorry.” you pant, shooting pleading eyes up at him in hopes he’ll give in.

“Fine. Let’s just go back in.” he says, almost too easily. Mikey wasn’t one to be persuaded easily.

Mikey doesn’t say anything as he yanks you forward, his grip bruising against your skin. The night air still lingers on your body, cold and sharp, but it does nothing to stop the suffocating heat crawling up your spine as you step inside. The door slams shut behind you, cutting off the outside world, the last sliver of freedom you had, and replacing it with the suffocating presence of them.

They weren’t outside. They weren’t waiting. They were here all along.

Sanzu is just sitting lazily in a chair, spinning the gun used to traumatize you between his fingers. Takeomi leans against the wall, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Ran and Rindou are smirking, eyes filled with condescension, like they already knew how this would play out. Mochi says nothing, his presence alone enough to make the room feel smaller. Kakucho stands at the back, watching, always watching.

You feel sick.

The weight of their stares presses down on you, suffocating, humiliating. Because Mikey never intended for you to run. No, he actually let you go. Gave you the chance to run… because he knew you wouldn’t.

Because you couldn’t.

And now, standing in front of them, exposed and weak, it finally hits you.

You never had a chance.

Not against them.

Not against him.

And now, you were right where they wanted you. They had predicted you didn’t want to do it.

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losergames · 5 months ago

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Chop Shop is strictly 18+ for language, themes, and potential explicit content.

🔗 - Game Intro | Bug Report | Ko-Fi

Episode Four is now available! (+ 59,000) - PLAY HERE

Debrief after your meeting with Inez.

Steal... or don't!

Yvonne has a secret.

2 more achievements.

And more!

This update comes with a patch (Version 1.2.3) For this update you will need to start a NEW SAVE. An updated inventory macro has been implemented and is not compatible with old saves. I really wish you didn't have to but it's what's best for the game and its longevity!

Patch notes + author notes are under the cut. If preferred, you can access them in game in the start menu.

STORY

PROLOGUE:

General edits and fixes.

More vague, as to not elicit any emotional connection to the crew for continuity.

EPISODE 01:

Added a new set of personality building choices when meeting KJ, Jonno, Natasha and Aiden at the bar.

EPISODE 02:

Tweaked the conversation with Dilani in the closing scene to reflect more on the situation. Added some more fearful dialogue and flavour text.

Other general edits and fixes.

EPISODE 03:

Fixed gaps and spacing issues.

Minor phrasing and sentence structure changes.

Grammar and typo fixes.

UI + TECHNICAL

SETTINGS:

Changing the font size now only applies to the game text in the passages.

Added descriptions to the toggleable settings.

UI:

The background now changes colour dependent on what theme you are using, instead of the default black.

INVENTORY:

The inventory macro has been updated! Previously V2, now V3 of the ChapelR Simple Inventory Macro.

CREATE A SAVE

Modified the randomise PC choice, setting pronouns in 'sets' instead of randomising each pronoun separately.

GAMEPLAY MODE

Players can now choose a gameplay mode when starting a new save: Regular or Challenge.

Challenge mode disables the back button, disallowing players to return to the previous passage. Players cannot redo dice rolls or try out different choices for desired outcomes.

Challenge mode is not available in Create A Save. All CAS made saves default to regular mode.

AN: hello hello! it has been a while -- episode 04 is finally here!

this ep was a long one to get through but we finally made it out of the fog. i found that i wrote a bunch of stuff that just... didn't fit? but is hopefully going to be used later down the line, so it's cool i've got shells of scenes for later.

i can't find any game breaking bugs myself and my amazing beta testers have scanned through as many possible variants as they can! of course, if there is anything funky, broken, or maybe not triggering correctly, please submit a bug report!

again i will say that you will need to start a NEW SAVE for this update. unfortunately the updated inventory macro is not compatible with previous saves. i really didn't want this to be a thing when updating chop shop but it is unfortunately just the way for this update - apologies!! i know it's super annoying when games do this but chop shop is still a wip so there will always be some teething problems along the way.

as i look through my notes, we have now completed act 1 of my outline (AAAAHH) so soooo exciting. finally pc can stop wringing their hands about being bad and actually //start// being bad.

if you've made it this far -- hello and thank you! i'm so happy we're at the point where PC is making some real decisions, taking another step into their life of crime.

happy update day and happy reading!! thank you so much for the continued support and patience!!! i hope you enjoy the new episode! - becky :-) <3

#cs update #chop shop #chop shop game #interactive fiction #twine game #GANG!!!! WE'RE SO BACK!!!

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shanastoryteller · 3 months ago

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HAPPY VALENTINES DAY SHANA!!!! IT IS 6 AM AND DRUNKELY TRYING TO PUT A SENTENCE TOGETHER 😭 I NEED PERCY AND TONKS AND THEN EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT 💖💖💖

Dolores Umbridge is a lot of things, but she isn't careless.

Percy's life would be a lot easier if she was.

"What's wrong?" Tonks asks as he paces the length of their living room.

"What makes you think anything's wrong?" he returns, although it's mostly rhetorical. His hair is probably a mess considering he's been running his hands through it and his job doesn't normally reduce him to pacing.

She shifts, blocking his path so he has no choice but to stop in front of her. Or go around her, and he hasn't been quite pushed to that point yet. She reaches up and smooths his hair back from his face into something close to how he usually styles it. "You're home before me. What's going on?"

He has a lot of opinions on the distribution of government secrets, none of which apply to Tonks. She's smart, she's loyal, and she would never betray him. Plus, technically, her clearance is higher than his anyway. He's never been legally allowed to know most of what he does. "Fudge is sick of the bad press and blaming Dumbledore so he's going to shoehorn in one of his people for the defense position."

She frowns. "Not anyone from our department then."

No, although an auror would make the most sense. But Kingsley has always been Amelia's and frankly Fudge wouldn't risk giving the position to any of her reports, direct or not. "I'm considering recommending Dolores."

"Implementing some new child hating policies?" she asks.

He rolls his eyes. "I can't outmaneuver her while she's here. She's got Fudge's ear and half the ministry is in her pockets. I'm trying to be careful about this, but she keeps getting in my way. She hasn't stayed in power this long by being sloppy, unfortunately. But if she's busy playing government stooge at Hogwarts-"

"Then you have some breathing room," Tonks finishes. "Well, it's not like the kids haven't been taught by worse. Man, some of the defense professors I had - at least the past few years' worth have sort of known what they were doing."

True, although unfortunately two of the better ones had been either possessed by Voldemort or working for him. It's too bad they can't get Lupin in there permanently, but even if they could get him past Fudge and the board a second time, he won't even consider it until Voldemort is dead for good. Something to consider for a later time, perhaps.

"She's going to give them hell," he says. He's talking about all the students, but he's specifically thinking of his brothers and Harry and Hermione and all their friends. Especially Harry. Dolores already hates him and Harry has the self preservation instincts of a phoenix.

Tonks grabs the front of his shirt and tugs him close enough to kiss. She's taller than usual and he tilts his head back, feeling some of the tension drain out of him as she digs her thumbs into his hips. "Better make it worth it, then."

He will.

#hii!! i hope things are going well <3 #prompts are closed #prompt answers #asks #lance-with-a-chance-of-anxiety #harry potter #siat

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marks-bby · 2 years ago

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⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀( living with Mike Schmidt )

— ★ Abby is his heart and soul. he knows if you’re a winner if she feels comfortable showing you her drawings.

— ★ i feel like American Idiot by Green Day is him and Abby getting ready for work/school. it’s a routine they built and can’t break out of it. so when you stay the night, you were shocked to see how quick they get out the house since Mike is always late to work.

— ★ if you can cook, you brought more meals on the menu and Mike can’t thank you enough. now, he doesn’t have to cook up some Chef Boyardee or order pizza. you were the only one they trusted in the kitchen.

— ★ weekly movie night was implemented on friday nights. you saw how much Abby and Mike were drifting away from each other so you took it upon yourself to make a movie night on fridays. the only problem is their choices. Abby would want to watch Coraline and Mike wanted to watch Megamind.

— ★ your first date was…something. Mike couldn’t really afford to go somewhere special so he found a recipe in one of the local libraries (the movie was set in like the 80s…) and cooked it up decent enough for it to be considered edible. (i’m joking, it was delicious) everything was good until—

“mike!” Abby yells from her bedroom. he was just in the middle of explaining something important to you, something he was passionate about. you could tell by the way he tried to hide his smile. but his sister comes first before anything. “Abby,” he whispers loud enough for only her to hear. “i thought i told you to keep quiet a bit. i have a date, remember?” she crosses her arms, “my tooth fell out.” “so? put it under your pillow and the tooth fairy will get it.” “that’s the thing! you told me that last time and i haven’t gotten five bucks! the tooth is still here!” shittttt. Mike sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i’ll give you five plus more if you just keep quiet, okay?” Abby nods. “okay, good.” Mike starts to walk off before coming back. “how do i look?” he adjusts his collars. “like a million bucks.” Abby giggles, smiling, showing off her missing tooth. “sorry about that.” Mike clears his throat, sitting back at the dinner table. “no, no. that was actually cute.” you smile, you heart warmed by the brothers-sister relationship they had.

— ★ you help him sleep. now, he doesn’t need that bland nebraska poster, or that tape with nature sounds, or sleeping pills. he has you. and even the nights that you aren’t there, he would spray your favorite perfume on your pillow, hugging it close to you as if he were hugging you.

NSFW headcanons

— ★ he’s a switch. 50/50. i think his sex drive is normal if not low. he values romantic gestures than sexual gestures. but in the sex field, he’s both a giver and receiver.

— ★ let’s start with dom!mike. you’d mainly see dom!mike if it was a bad day at work or a long one. scenario; abby had been knocked out in her bed around bedtime. you technically had the house to yourself as you waited for mike to get home. finally, you hear a car pull in and the engine turn off. you could sense that it was him. you were expected a cuddle session until you both fell asleep. not you being bent over the couch, his fingers in your mouth to hush the moans escaping from your lips, fucking you like a rabid dog.

— ★ on the sub aspect, you have a whiny baby on your hands. begging and whining for you to let him cum. he pinky swears he’ll be a good boy. he whines, groans, begs. all of that. he begs so much that you have to put a hand on his mouth so he won’t wake up abby sometimes. if he’s pissed you off, you’d punish him by riding him but not letting him touch you and edging him so much that tears form at the waterline.

— ★ munch. munch! MUNCH!!! when he’s stuffed in between your thighs, he humps the edge of the bed, cumming in his pants. he’s too ashamed to let you know. he thinks it’s sick. he’s getting off by the taste of you, your sounds, and your juices dripping down his chin.

taglist ;; @worldsgreatestsinner

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

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keezybees · 6 months ago

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HOW DO YOU DRAW SO FAST OMGGGG

I worked really hard on it tbh haha. A few years back I went through a long period of intense perfectionism where I slowed down to a crawl (like five comic pages in 4 months). I finally decided that that wasn't working for me, and so I started implementing my motto: shitty is better than incomplete!

Basically it's about the idea that it's more important to me to get the ideas and stories out there than it is for them to be perfect. I have a lot of stories I want to tell, and there's only so much time for me to tell them. It helps to remind myself of this as much as possible!

As for technical tricks, I do a few things that really help:

Draw a lot! Practice is truly one of the number one ways to improve speed, as annoying as it is to accept

I don't zoom in too far

I only use 1 brush at 1-2 sizes for inking (outside of specialized stuff like stippling)

I put hard limits on a lot of stuff--how much shading I do (if any), or what shape my comic panels are (only squares, no diagonals or weird shapes), for example

My characters (comic characters especially) all have pretty simple designs and outfits

I write down every idea for an illustration that I have, even if I'm not ready to tackle it yet. That way when I have a chance to sit down, I've got a whole list ready to go and I'm not waffling around in the concept stage

Finally, I've learned to accept my imperfections as a neat part of my art! It's not easy, and I slip back into bad habits sometimes, but I try my best to see every misplaced mark or color that bleeds outside the line as proof that a human hand made this. I don't spend a lot of time correcting mistakes or painstakingly trying not to make them.

Here's an example from Hello Sunshine, where if looks fine from far away, but if you zoom in a bunch, you can see all kinds of little "mistakes." gaps in the ink and color, the line of Alex's ear doesn't match up, very sketchy linework where their faces meet, haha.

But then when you zoom out even a little bit, you a) don't notice those things nearly as much, and b) I think it gives it a kind of traditional charm. Just because you CAN use ctrl-z doesn't mean you HAVE to.

Anyway I hope that helps!!

#art #artists on tumblr #artist support #art advice #advice #perfectionism

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alexanderwales · 8 months ago

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One of the software concepts that I found useful to bring over to writing is the concept of technical debt.

Technical debt is the additional work that gets created when you choose a fast option over a good option. It's "debt" because there's a very good chance that at some point you're going to have to repay it: you hardcode in some variables, deciding that you'll figure out the proper way to do it later, and eventually, surprise! It's later. You have to implement the solution you were putting off. And because you've been using the kludge for so long, sometimes that kludge has become load-bearing, and you have to spend quite a bit of time unraveling and refactoring. One of the reasons it's called debt is because you have to pay interest on it.

And the thing is, it's not always wrong to accrue technical debt. Sometimes it helps you get to working on the important thing, and can clarify design details or implementation concerns, and sometimes you can just ship without ever having to do it the "right" way. Sometimes you can wriggle out from under that debt and never suffer any consequences from it, even if there were theoretical consequences when you made the decision to do it the fast way.

The way that this applies to writing is mostly in terms of worldbuilding, character building, and plotting. You can sit down and map a whole novel out without writing a single word, whipping up character bibles and setting details and everything that you might possibly need, all before you write a single word.

... or you can accrue some debt and just gun it, writing as you go, making things up, adding them to some kind of tracking document or just not even doing that.

And as with code, there will come times you have to pay that debt back with interest.

Sometimes you skimp on a character's backstory, and then a few chapters down the road you need to make a decision about it, and suddenly there's a bunch of editorial work as you have to make sure that everything you just decided on matches up with what you've already written. A more extreme example would be writing a mystery novel where you haven't decided on what the answer to the mystery will be until very very late: it would either produce a bad mystery or require tons of rewriting.

As with code, the difficulty is knowing when you're incurring technical debt for a good reason and when you're shooting your future self in the foot.

Here are my rules of thumb for writing, in terms of what's acceptable technical debt:

Plot stuff should not wait. You should have a resolution for your story within the first few chapters of writing that story, and ideally, before you even start.

Everyone (and everything) gets a name the first time it appears. You cannot say "the gardener" a dozen times because you don't want to think of a name for the gardener.

All magic systems and superpowers and whatnot should be rigidly defined before they come onscreen. This doesn't need to be known to the characters, and "soft" magic has less of a requirement, but having rules be thought up midway through a fight scene is essentially the definition of generating technical debt.

Descriptions take little effort to bring into alignment, so can be skipped on first draft, so long as there is a description there. Having descriptions written afterward can help to understand mood and requirements of the scene.

Backstory is really variable, depending on how relevant to the plot it is. If it's going to be driving conflict, it needs to be worked out ahead of time. If it's flavor, it can be winged.

I am, of course, not the best follower of my own advice, and sometimes for very long webfic it's impossible to plan that much in advance. And of course I never go into every work having had every idea I'm going to have, and some of those ideas are good enough to include even if they disrupt a plan and require some refactoring.

#writing

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mysteryshoptls · 6 months ago

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SSR Idia Shroud - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Mister S's Mystery Shop]

Idia: …Hrrm, I can't find the 15th Anniversary special Star Rogue diorama.

Idia: I told Sam-shi I'd look for it myself, so I wouldn't have to deal with him talking to me, but… There's way too much stuff here to look through!

Idia: And I came all this way 'cause I wasn't fast enough to get it online.

Idia: I can't go back empty-handed after telling Ortho that there's no way I wouldn't get my hands on one as a number one fanboy!

Idia: Oho? This shelf over here has a ton of specialty figures and other hobby stuff… EEHHHH!?

[products fall of shelf]

Idia: OUCH! OW OW OW!!

Jack: Woah!? That was close! Some of the falling goods almost scraped by my nose…

Idia: I-I-I didn't do anything! They just fell off on their own since they were thrown haphazardly onto the shelf!!

[Idia runs away]

Jack: Huh? No one said it was your fault or nothin'…

Jack: …What the, he's already gone! Idia-senpai… He looks slow and frail, but is he secretly actually pretty nimble?

Jack: Oh, man, and he just left everything on the ground. Ugh, I guess I'll have to…

Jack: …Hm? Isn't this box the one Ortho mentioned today…?

[Ignihyde Dorm – Idia's Room]

Idia: …Haah. And in the end, I just ran away… Without a Star Rogue diorama…

Idia: It's all because they sold it first-come-first-serve, instead of pre-order... Not my fault what happened earlier…

Idia: If I went back now, that terrifying beast of a man from Savanaclaw might still be there. I'll try again tomorrow…

Idia: K. Now that I've decide that, time to get all the annoying dorm work stuff done!

Idia: Uhhh, so, the notices I have to give the other dorm students are… Oh, right, the equipment replacement schedule, and the AC inspection time.

Idia: Just in case, I'll add "Important", "Good News", "Response Required", and "Read Immediately" to the subject… K, sent.

Idia: It sure is hard work bein' a Housewarden. Thought it's not that bad since I implemented a chat app once I became Housewarden.

Idia: Efficiency above all! No face-to-face meetings! Conserving my own energy is the best way to do things!

Idia: Finished all my Housewarden tasks, and even took a shower, as annoying as it is. I'm awesome. I'd give myself 100,000,000 points out of 100.

Idia: Nice, so… It's finally me time!

[Ignihyde Dorm – Idia's Room]

Idia: Ah, I got a message from Ortho… He's spending the night in the first year rooms, huh.

Idia: Then, I guess I can just game all night by myself! Fheeheehee!

[beep, beep!]

Idia: Hm…? What's with this reminder…? Man, right when I was getting into things.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Idia: Ugh.. Right, that was a thing. You don't really see paper surveys anymore. Let me think, it should be around… Yep, here it is.

Idia: Uhhh, so what, they want to know what I'd like improved? I mean, kinda late to ask a third-year, isn't it? I can't really think of anything.

Idia: Sides, there were stuff I used to not like about the dorm, but I already made upgrades to all that stuff.

Idia: We soundproofed the walls and floors, installed commercial-grade AC, and the dorm-wide servers are of my own technical specs.

Idia: To live the perfect shut-in life, we can't not have walls that can't take loud shouting, or ACs that can't keep overclocked PCs cool, so～

Idia: …Ah, wait a mo'. I just thought of one issue I got. "There's not enough electrical outlets"!!

Idia: This kinda stuff needed specialized qualifications to do, so it's not like I coulda bought the parts and DIY it.

Idia: I'm using a power strip for now 'cause I have to, but I hate how the wiring just looks like spaghetti. Even a master wiring tech like myself can't stand a sight like that!

Idia: Oh, I just thought of one more thing. "I want to have the low-capacity breaker replaced"!

Idia: It's so weak that the breaker flips just 'cause I try to have 4 computers, the server, a 3D printer, microwave, and electric kettle all plugged in at once!

Idia: I mean, I'd set up a UPS (uninterruptible power supply) system in case of emergencies, so my computers and server was fine, but...

Idia: Because of that, my plan to add an AC unit and a refrigerator in my room went out the window. That was a nightmare. Oh, and…

Idia: …Dyehehe. I said I couldn't really think of any, but it's hilarious how the ideas keep flowin' out.

Idia: I'll attach some of the numbers we have on the cost of estimated damages by having Ignihyde students continue to use those useless breakers.

Idia: The Headmage is pretty much influenced by profits, so. If I explain how it's necessary to get better equipment, then he might listen to improvement suggestions.

Idia: Nice, mission clear. Time to watch some new anime episodes while grinding levels in my gams.

Idia: See, nothing beats watching anime while mindlessly leveling… Ooh, I pulled a rare one!

Idia: I thought I'd be bored of this anime 3 episodes in, too, but it's actually starting to get interesting!

Idia: Well, now that the mood's getting good, I just gotta let loose! TIME FOR A SNACK PARTY!!

Idia: …Huh? I'm out of my favorite snack. Ugh, I completely forgot to re-order some more when I ate all of it last time.

Idia: If only the Mystery Shop had 24-hour delivery service… Maybe I should add that to the survey?

Idia: Nah, nevermind, I should just focus on the anime. NOTHING'S GONNA BRING ME DOWN!

Idia: Woah, the animation's clean…! They're all movin' so smoothly… Maybe the production team changed this week?

Idia: I'm getting pretty into the main theme song, too! Heehee, fheeheehee…!

[Ignihyde Dorm – Idia's Room]

Idia: Urrghnn… Aaarghh…

[～♪]

Idia: Gah! Urgh, what's that noise…? What time is it right now…?

Idia: Urk! Everything's so bright, I can't see anything… How's it morning already…? Wait, before that, where'd that noise come from…!?

Idia: Huh…? Ortho…? Weren't you spending the night with the other first years…? Oh wait, is this just a message…?

Idia: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY"…? Oh, right, today's my birthday! I completely forgot, since there wasn't anything to look forward to…

Idia: I'll just write back… Thanks, Ortho.

Idia: Urp…! But now I feel a bit sick…! And my whole body hurts…!

Idia: I fell asleep running my games, and I'm just stiff all over. Can't I just go move to my bed and go back to sleep?

Idia: Nah, if I end up crashing and forget to login and get all the birthday login voice lines, I'll never recover. Gotta wash my face or something…

Idia: Woah, I can see how crazy my bedhead is reflected in the monitor! I think this every time, but why does my hair end up this bad whenever I fall asleep at my desk?

Idia: Kinda looks punk, but that's totally a different vibe from my usual, lawl.

Idia: Meh, my hair can be whatever. Not like anyone looks at me, anyway.

Idia: It's a pain to go all the way to the washroom… I'll just use magic like I normally do. I'll chill the water, then.

[splash!]

Idia: WHEEEEW, THAT COLD WATER HITS JUST RIGHT!!

Idia: Normally, I'd just leave it here, but… My face feels so dry after pulling that all-nighter.

Idia: But I'm all good. I'm a functioning nerd, so I know how to fix it.

Idia: Ta-da～ I don't really get it, but here I go with the number one most popular all-in-one cream～

Idia: Putting on lotion and moisturizer one at a time is a waste of time. Just plap it on, and ta-da, done. Next is my clothes…

Idia: Nah, nevermind, I'm not gonna change. Now all I have to do is to jump into all my games and collect the birthday login voice lines. Fheeheehee.

Idia: Perf, I've gotten them all for now. …Huh? There's another message from Ortho…

Idia: …HUH!? HE GOT THE 15TH ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL STAR ROGUE DIORAMA!? SERIOUSLY!?

Idia: "I was planning on picking it up in the Mystery Shop after classes, but if you can't wait, you can go pick it up whenever"…?

Idia: Well, I gotta go right now, then! That means I have to finish getting ready.

Idia: I don't really wanna go outside, but… I can't keep my poor Star Rogue waiting! Hyah!

[Idia magics hair and clothes]

Idia: K, bedhead fixed. And now, onwards, to the Mystery Shop!!

[Main Street]

Idia: Fheeheehee…! Look at this craftsmanship…! It looks just like the scene I imagined as a kid!

Idia: Ortho… Did you look for this Star Rogue diorama because you knew I was sad I didn't get it?

Idia: Wheew～ The best thing in the world is a little brother who thinks the world of his older brother, and is really good at search functions～!

Jack: Hm? Is that… Idia-senpai? Good morning.

Idia: GYAAAAAA!? J-Jack-shi…? Why are we making contact two days in a row…?

Jack: I mean, it's not really anything, but… I heard from Ortho yesterday that today was your birthday, is all.

[Idia runs away]

Jack: Happy Birthday. So, uh, did you get what you were looking…

Jack: Huh, he's already gone! Ugh, I don't get him at all.

Requested by @farfalla049.

#twisted wonderland #twst #idia shroud #jack howl #twst idia #twst jack #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: ortho #mention: crowley

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th3r3dw00dtr33 · 10 days ago

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Strangers || Obey Me! x Reader

I was craving a little angst today. Let me know how I did in the comments! Also, please let me know if you'd like a part two!

TW: Angst, Swearing, Spoilers

READER IS NOT MC .

Why were you in jail? It wasn't like you did anything illegal, but you'd just so happen to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. You were also terribly unlucky, but that was already a given based on your current predicament...

You were framed with murder.

How you didn't know. Why, you also didn't know. The only thing you knew about the case was the penalty.

They told you themselves: You are to be sent to a place far beyond this plane (a different universe), doomed to be a stranger for the rest of your time there. (This wasn't like the penalties back where you were from, but you didn't want to be stuck in prison for life.)

It seemed light, for a punishment, but you shrugged it off with a 'It's probably normal here.'

But they also told you how you were able to choose where you were to be sent.

You, being the person you were, immediately thought of a game.

You were a part of many fandoms. You loved indulging yourself with these different pieces of media. Of these, Obey Me was a game you particularly liked.

How could you not? The characters were stupidly hot and complex at the same time, and the plot and setting were interesting enough to keep you invested. There were a whole lot of reasons you could list off as to why, but to keep this short:

You loved Obey Me. You loved the characters just as much as MC, if not more.

Which is why you chose that world without a second glance.

Oh, how stupid you were.

You had walked out of the shining, blue portal, taking part as a new demon (though you're technically a human) student at RAD. Despite this being a punishment, you had been really excited to finally meet these characters in real life.

Being strangers doesn't mean you couldn't work towards a friendship, right?

You had forgotten this was supposed to be punishment for a murderer, even if you had been framed.

LUCIFER:

He was walking down the halls in a particularly bad mood, after several all-nighters to finish his workload of paperwork.

He turned the corner, making his way to the entrance of the school, greeting the new students who poured in for the new term.

Lucifer handed one student a map of the school, something he and Diavlo should've implemented beforehand, with the increase of new students attending. (MC was an example. Mammon did not do a very good job with the tour.)

The new demon had tried to make small talk, and Lucifer didn't snap, knowing full well how it would impact Diavolo's image.

"This is the map of the school. Please familiarize yourself with the layout of the building." He paused, "I also advise you to keep your thoughts to yourself."

He didn't care about the wording at the time― it's not like it mattered much anyway.

The demon paused, bowed their head and walked away. Looks like they got the hint.

Well, he may have been a bit rude to them on their first day, but he was too prideful to take anything back at that point.

Plus, it was Hell. Demons can take a comment or two.

After some time, he would occasionally see the new student across the hall or in the classroom.

Sometimes he would check on them to see if they were adjusting well, but he didn't bother too much with the demon when he had a human exchange student to watch over.

They never really responded, but he just assumed they were shy.

He didn't bother to ask for their name. When MC had asked him about them, he just let out a "Do you really think I have the time to memorize everyone I meet at RAD? Besides, most of the students here aren't too special. Don't worry too much about them."

He could if he wanted to, but they were just a stranger.

MAMMON:

He met them in one of the two history classes. He forgot which one, but can you blame him?

The second-born had just asked to borrow a pencil, but turns out the demon only had one, so it didn't matter anyway.

When he asked, they had perked up slightly at the question.

He automatically assumed it was because the GREAT Mammon was gracing them with his attention, but this was the only time he actually got it correct.

"Ya don' got a pencil? Lame."

He was cheerful for the rest of the class, despite the fact that the lesson was boring and Lucifer forced him to do it.

He pretends not to notice when they shrink away from his comment.

He pretends that they didn't manage to make him feel important— something his own brothers never tried to accomplish.

But he, too, forgets about them pretty soon.

What can he say? Mammon's a hustler, ya know! He barely remembers the names of those he makes a deal with, let alone a random student in his class!

He would also see the demon occasionally, but they've never exchanged greetings.

When MC asks him about them, after telling him how they felt something was off, he replied, "Come on, MC! Ya can't expect me to remember every face I meet, right?"

He pretends not to notice how they seemed to care about him, despite barely knowing him.

He pretends that ignoring them doesn't impact him at all.

After ignoring them for so long, Mammon truly forgot about their existence. But what can I say? They were just a stranger, after all.

LEVIATHAN:

Leviathan was an anxious wreck.

Lucifer didn't let him participate in the online schooling, with the new year beginning, so he was forced to attend school.

With all these normies...

He hated 'normies' to a certain extent, and being surrounded by so many was getting on his nerves.

Which was why he turned and walked away the moment a demon walked up to him.

He didn't know the demon just wanted to talk a bit, but this was Hell. Demons don't do that without an ulterior motive.

He didn't notice how the demon deflated with a small frown from the reaction. He didn't care— it's not like he knew them.

"Stupid normies," he would mutter as he scurried away to his next class.

Over the next couple of weeks, he would bump into the same demon during the lunch rush. Every. Time.

He would always turn around and walk stiffly away in the opposite direction, even if at times they hadn’t tried to initiate any forms of contact or conversation.

He hated 'normies' like them, and being around demons of this sort would only prove how he was nothing but a stupid otaku.

Oh, how he envied them... it just wasn't fair.

When he had the competition with MC on TSL, he could see them in the audience, watching them― him intently as if they were hoping he would win.

It unnerved him― why were they looking at him like that? They were only strangers; it wasn’t like a 'normie' like them would want to hang out with an otaku like him.

Especially one who avoided them every turn he took.

After the competition (a failure on his part), he found the same demon walking through the halls.

They were trying to comfort him. Him out of all demons?! Leviathan snapped, and he realized too late.

His anger, accompanied by his envy, flared, "Stupid normie, screw off. I don't need your fucking pity, so you'd better suck it before I rip you apart and feed you to Cerberus."

At the time, he didn't care how the demon's face grew alarmed.

He didn't care how their face scrunched up, and they fled the hall.

He only looked back with slight guilt a couple of weeks after, but it was too late. He couldn't find the demon anywhere.

But it was fine― they were just a stranger, right?

SATAN:

The fourth-born was usually found in the library, but this time was different.

Lucifer, his delightful brother, had oh so graciously piled on paperwork to his own workload, effectively shutting down his free time at the library.

As you could probably see, Satan was pissed.

There had been more cursed books he had wanted to check out at the library, but was unable to due to the paperwork.

And this didn't help when a random demon crashed into him and his stack of books.

It was after the TSL competition, and Satan, being the demon who was at his final straw, was seething.

It didn't matter if the demon had apologized and tried to help him pick up and reorder the books. It didn't matter if they already looked hurt and panicked.

"Leave," Satan growled with his wrathful aura, "Leave and watch where you're fucking going next time."

These books were a special part of his collection, and he already had enough to deal with.

The demon had run away, and the fourth-born was left by himself.

Sometime later, in about two days, he would find the same demon sitting in the library.

They looked like they were studying for a test on a topic on which he had a lot of interest.

He didn't bother to ask for their name, nor exchange a greeting.

He didn't even ask if they needed help.

Satan didn't care. It wasn't his business in the first place, unlike with MC, where he felt obligated to help as a member of the House of Lamentation.

He just walked past the demon with a frown, as if the demon were a figment of his imagination.

Had I seen them before?

ASMODEUS:

Asmodeus was the Avatar of Lust.

He didn't truly love anyone but himself (or so he thought), but he cared genuinely for others' physical appearances.

Which is why, when he met a demon after the two-night trip to Diavolo's castle, he gave them tips for their skin routine.

The demon had approached him and asked, obviously shy, and he cheerfully handed them a tube of his extra lotion.

"Everyone deserves to look pretty, but obviously I always look the best~" he had said.

He didn't care about the demon themself, but if someone wanted help on their appearance, who was he to refuse?

He hadn't seen the demon before, so he assumed they were new.

Asmo knows most of the school body, so it was a surprise that he didn't at least know of their name.

Sadly, he was pulled away by his brothers before he could ask.

After a while, he forgot about the situation with the new demon student entirely.

They should understand, shouldn't they? Asmo, being the most beautiful creature there is, couldn't possibly make time for everyone, right?

So when the demon came up to him and thanked him for his advice...

"Oh! Yes, those were basic dos and don'ts of skincare, you shouldn't thank me. Though, have I met you before?"

He prided himself on being able to converse effortlessly with those around him, so it made him cringe internally at how bad it sounded.

His eyes caught the reflection of his face in a nearby mirror, and Asmodeus, the narcissistic and vain fifth-born, was entranced.

How long had he been staring at his reflection?

How long had it been since they had left with a frown on their face?

BEELZEBUB:

Beelzebub was the one who was always hungry.

What can you expect? He is the Avatar of Gluttony, after all.

Something that most demons won't know, however, is how Beelzebub hates seeing someone else hungry.

Sometimes, if he had a lot of food, he would save a little bit. Just a little, enough for them to last a bit.

Which is why when he saw one of the new students sitting in the corner without any food, he assumed they were hungry.

They looked hungry, he'd argue, they aren't eating anything.

The demon wasn't, but they sat straighter when they saw the sixth-eldest walking towards them.

He'd place a singular chocolate bar on the table and slide it towards them.

"You... you look hungry," he would say, and they'd thank him.

If it were any normal demon, the Avatar of Gluttony wouldn't share his food just like that.

But they weren't. They, despite being a demon, reminded him a bit of MC.

It was odd, but he didn't pay it any mind.

For the next couple of weeks, Beelzebub would bring extra food.

If the demon wasn't eating (they said they didn't have enough money for lunch every day), he'd slide them a chocolate bar.

It became a little routine between them, even if they barely knew each other.

He would make his way to the table in the corner every lunch, the one they always sat in.

Even if one day the demon disappeared entirely.

BELPHEGOR:

They didn't meet until a couple of months into the school year.

It was after he killed MC― the last thing he wanted to do was go to school, but it wasn't as bad as it would've been if he were stuck in the attic.

The Avatar of Sloth met the demon during one of those classes with the boring lectures.

They didn't interact much at first, each to their own.

Great, another random demon... was what he thought before— they were both at the back of the classroom, right beside each other.

It took a couple of days before he realized the demon wasn't half bad; they were actually pretty chill.

They watched his back when he dozed off, prodding him awake before the instructor could catch him asleep.

He appreciated that, so he would often give them good dreams so they could be well-rested for the day.

It wasn't until they had a big upcoming test that he grew anxious.

Belphegor had dozed off way too often, causing him to miss important bits of the lectures during class.

He didn't realize the demon who always sat beside him saw his troubled resting expression.

He didn't hear the rustling of papers nearby as they placed down an extra copy of their notes onto his desk, along with a note.

When the youngest of the seven brothers woke up, his eyes fell upon the pages on his desk.

The name [Name] [Lastname] was written on the corner of the first page in a foreign handwriting.

He smiled faintly, tucking the papers into his bag.

When Beelzebub asked him about his mood, he couldn't help but explain everything. (He isn't one to hide things from his twin.)

The day after the test, he placed the papers on the demon— [Name]'s desk, along with a note of his own that expressed his thanks.

[Name] never came.

DIAVOLO:

The Prince of Devildom is a busy man demon.

He has his dreams, his goals, and his ever-increasing paperwork.

The Prince of Devildom is a very busy and important demon, so why would he pay attention to a random student like them?

It wasn't that Diavolo didn't care; he definitely did, but it wasn't like anything about that demon stuck out.

He is a demon who cares about his people and definitely the students in his school. But even if they weren't, he would still care.

Prince Diavolo was like that.

But he was only like that to those he knew and saw.

The new demon student wasn't one of them.

Once, they had been running down the halls and nearly bumped into him.

At the time, Barbatos hadn't really moved, much to Diavolo's surprise. Perhaps he saw something..?

Probably, but his attention was snapped back to the demon who bowed their head and apologized profusely.

"Ahaha! It's alright, just watch where you're going next time and try not to run in the halls."

After that, he didn't really see the demon much.

They had always been so nervous around him; he just didn't want to scare them too much.

Soon after, that interaction was drowned by the other memories and plans he had until it vanished.

MC had asked about the demon, but Diavolo didn't know and redirected the question to Barbatos.

They were just a stranger, after all.

BARBATOS:

The Prince's butler never interacted with the demon.

He was also very busy helping Diavolo and the maintenance on the castle.

Yet, he saw the demon in one of his visions.

He knew how they were framed, how they were sent from another universe, how they were just a human.

But he never dared to say anything.

He never told Diavolo exactly what happened, just said that there would be some surprising information arriving soon.

He saw how they had loved them as characters in their world. Saw how they chose this as a hopeful act.

He also saw how this punishment would break them.

When MC had asked him about them, a thought struck his mind.

Why would he let them break like this?

Oh, right.

Barbatos didn't say anything because he didn't want to disrupt the flow of time again.

That's what he told himself.

He did it for MC because he loved them, but he wouldn't risk such a thing for them.

He didn't have the right to do this again.

"This was supposed to happen."

After all, they had nothing between them. They were merely strangers.

Things like this happen to strangers all the time.

SIMEON:

Simeon had a neutral feeling towards demons.

He doesn't hate them, nor does he particularly like them.

Don't get me wrong, he is mistrustful of demons with no particular connection to the demons he's known, like that demon student.

They shared a couple of classes together, along with that one lecture with Belphegor, and he always noticed them at the back.

Don't think he didn't caught on to their little routine of one sleeping and the other keeping watch.

In his opinion, after taking note of their behaviour, the demon had a great personality.

He would've dismissed them as a human or angel if it weren't for their demonic aura. Which was weird in of itself.

The two actually met when the demon had accidentally bumped into him.

While Luke was busy scolding them for not watching their step, Simeon took this as an opportunity.

"It's quite alright, Mx," he would ask, "May I know your name?"

He found them interesting and a great influence for Luke, though the latter may pout and whine at first.

They were much nicer than he expected, honestly, and (much to his surprise), they were very polite and apologized.

Over the next weeks, he would sometimes find the demon, whom he came to know as [Name] [Lastname], sitting in the back of classrooms.

He would exchange greetings, but even the older angel wouldn't say much afterwards.

They were still a stranger, after all.

LUKE:

Luke disliked demons. Greatly.

He was an angel who reported directly to Michael, and so he shouldn't be the one who joined Simeon at RAD!

I mean, he was right!

These good-for-nothing demons keep calling him a dog! A dog!

He met the nice demon when they accidentally bumped into Simeon.

They had been rounding the corner, and the demon was carrying a stack of papers for a teacher.

"Hey! Watch where you're going! As an angel who..." he gave a minute-long talk about watching where they're going.

He hadn't expected the demon to apologize― so genuinely, too!

Well, this demon was a lot nicer than the others... but don't tell Simeon he said that!

He didn't know their name, but they became one of the demons, the only demon he actually felt safe with.

It was odd; they acted so much like humans instead of demons.

They even patted his head when he said he missed the Celestial Realm!

Luke pretended not to notice when a fight broke out among a group of demons.

He didn't notice when the very demon who patted his head was running away from the group with bruises and scratches littered all over their arms and legs.

Looking back at it, if he had helped, would they have stayed?

In the end, they were nothing but a stranger.

SOLOMON:

Solomon was practically the strongest sorcerer both alive and to ever exist.

He was one of the exchange students at RAD, wandering about the halls of the school.

The classes and lectures the teachers gave here were things the sorcerer had already known or experienced himself.

Yet there were two things that grabbed his attention.

One, being how MC had made pacts with most of the Seven Avatars, something he had struggled to accomplish.

Second, being the demon whom he had come across earlier, who helped another with a kindness he'd never seen in a demon before.

The first one was frustrating, the second was just weird.

He observed the demon from afar, taking note of how they were often overlooked by the demons around him.

He took note of the one thing everyone around him said when he asked about them: they were a stranger.

Solomon knew demons very well, having made a pact with seventy-two.

This... person was no demon. He was sure of it.

Creating a demonic aura is a hard spell to cast, even for me... he thought, They have little aptitude for magic within them... I wonder who cast it.

He never approached them, researching on what they were instead of who.

When they disappeared one day, he could only chuckle.

That demon was still a stranger, despite his observations.

MC:

MC is someone who has had both great luck and horrible misfortune.

From making pacts with the demon brothers to getting killed by Belphegor in the attic, they've seen a lot of weird occurrences during their stay in the Devildom.

They've never expected a demon to save them from being eaten.

Especially one who had the task of taking their soul.

MC had been on their way to one of their classes when they were cornered by a group of demons.

But the demon had told them off and helped MC to get on their feet.

MC was confused, but grateful nonetheless.

They later knew their name as [Name] [Lastname], but their rush to different classes soon disrupted their time of getting to know each other.

MC asked Lucifer, Mammon, Diavolo, and lastly, Barbatos.

It felt weird to them that none of the demons gave them a proper answer.

Barbatos made them feel like he was hiding something.

The next time they saw them, [Name] was running from the same group of demons who had cornered MC earlier.

They had tears streaming down their face with cuts and bruising littering their limbs.

But MC had been busy talking to Simeon and Luke, and they pretended not to notice.

They found them, a day later, stepping through a portal of blue.

It made them think, in another world, could they've been friends?

It was a shame, they realized, that they were merely strangers in this one.

[Name] [Lastname] hated this place.

The Devildom was horrible.

They had been ignored, looked over, bullied, hungry...

Why were they here again?

A blue portal popped up in front of them. Oh, right, they were framed for murder.

The people had found the real murderer and sent for [Name] to be retrieved.

They were a bit too late, anyways.

Diavolo was sent a letter regarding the disappearance of one of his students.

Usually, if someone went missing, there would be a report of them moving, expelled, or dead.

There was none for [Name] [Lastname] until now.

Diavolo didn't know whether or not to be relieved, shocked, disappointed, or frustrated.

Word got out among the exchange students and the RAD student council.

Some didn't care, others felt guilty.

Diavolo couldn't help but scoff.

In the end, despite all of [Name]'s unseen efforts, they were still nothing but a stranger.

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leandra-kinard · 8 months ago

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You know, while this is and should be at the very bottom of concerns arising from the results of the US elections, there's one thing that I've been thinking about for weeks and we all should be aware of, imho.

All the queer representation we've had in recent years in movies and TV shows, all the big victories and groundbreaking depictions of queer love - that is likely going to be over.

Project 2025 lays out a very strict agenda to focus on "traditional Christian values"; things like pornography are explicitly named as something to be outlawed, but if you read between the lines it goes far beyond that. They could deem everything that doesn't correspond with traditional "family values" and traditional gender roles as worthy of censorship and worse. Russia has done it; you technically can be gay but you can't talk about it, show it, promote it. Many other nations have the same approach.

This may be the worst case scenario, because the American entertainment industry is global and influential and might not easily give in to extreme censorship, but it's far from unlikely to happen.

So what exactly could that mean? It could mean that any depictions of queer characters and queer relationships would have to be either be reduced to hinted at background characters, or going back to subtextual queer coding like under the Hays code. Or it could even mean that no such portrayal, even hinted at, is allowed in future.

In any case, getting something like Agatha All Along again, or Bucktommy, or movies like Love Simon etc. would no longer be allowed to be produced and broadcast/streamed in the US. And since the US and the US market dominate the Western-based entertainment industry, studios would likely refrain from producing such shows and movies in Canada or Europe because the huge American market would no longer buy these works.

And while, yes, this is not nearly as bad as women being sentenced to life for murdering their child just because they had a miscarriage, or gay marriages being dissolved across the country, or Palestine having no chance of surviving at all any longer, it still is something that concerns and impacts me greatly.

Entertainment is something that keeps many of us afloat in difficult times. And since many of us are queer, queer representation is very important to us. If we can no longer have it, it'll be a drastic impairment of our quality of life - worldwide, even if we're not Americans and live in (mostly) stable democracies in the West.

Maybe I'm being fatalist, but I think it's time we count our blessings. It's time we're happy for what we got and what we're still going to get in the next few months - what has already been filmed and produced and can still be published before such restrictive censorship laws are implemented. It's not a time for ship wars and shitting on existing queer representation, or fighting amongst ourselves.

We may never get again what we got this year, unless we look to British shows or other non-American productions and broadcasts. This is an option, of course, but it'll still be a tremendous loss for all of us who enjoy TV and cinema.

#us politics #us elections #project 2025 #queer representation #agatha all along #911 #bucktommy

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threestarsinline · 1 year ago

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Children's Books and Leather Jackets (Part I)

Jason Todd x reader one-shot

Summary: You couldn't love your job more. Or at least, that's what you thought, until Jason Todd started coming into the bookshop every week without fail, like clockwork. And then you form a connection that tilts your whole world on its axis.

Word Count: 13.6K (total of 29.2K)

Category: Lots and lots of fluff. Like, LOTS (plus some mutual pining, idiots in love, slow burn? and friends to lovers, and therefore, what all of that entails, mwah)

Warnings: Jason stealing your heart (and you stealing his)

Author’s note: Well, here's the proof that yes, I was writing hehehe. Anyway, enjoy this monster of a two-part fic, peace and love babes

>Part II

You loved your job. You really truly did. It might seem like a bold statement to make but when you spend your day to day in a quiet, lovely and vintage styled bookshop owned by the most wonderful couple of old people that you have ever met, who also treat you as their own granddaughter, you know that you could have it a lot worse in Gotham. You often forget that they are technically your bosses, or co-workers as they always corrected you when you referred to them as such.

Rose and Jimmy hired you a long time ago now, when they weren’t able to run the bookshop fulltime by themselves anymore due to the rise of popularity of the place (even though the customers were still just a close community of people from the neighborhood). And also because, after decades of running the bookshop, they wanted to finally kind of retire and do a few travels to places they wanted to see or visit their children scattered throughout the country.

So there you were, practically running all by yourself a small but successful business each week.

However, you weren’t bothered at all, it was perfect for you: working alone with no annoying co-workers or stressful deadlines, a flexible schedule since Rose and Jimmy would replace you here and there whenever you needed it and giving you free days out of the blue.

It also didn’t hurt that the job allowed you to stay in touch with the thing that you loved the most: books. Pages, full of stories that could transport you anywhere, to any time. Words, creating characters that became your family and made you laugh while also breaking your heart with their tragedies. And the possibility of sharing all of this with the people who came into the bookshop from all kinds of different backgrounds made it all even better.

Let’s just say that you couldn’t believe your luck when you got this job. Your day to day consisted of, among other things, attending customers, organizing the bookshelves, doing inventory and most of all: reading. There were certain moments of the day in which the shop was quite uneventful so you would seize those moments by doing all the reading that you could.

You really thought that you couldn’t love your job more. But that was until a gorgeous and very mysterious young man with a white streak in his hair started coming every week into the shop and giving you a smile every time that he left.

You got it bad.

And your crush on Jason Todd did nothing but increase. You were sure that that man was going to be the death of you.

The first time that Jason walked into the bookshop you were surprised to say the least. You had never seen him in the shop before yet he walked towards a section in the bookshelves of the back with firm and secure steps.

He came back to the register with three children’s books to check out. That surprised you even more. He certainly didn’t look like the type of person that you would expect to get children’s books. He had a rough appearance with his tall frame, dark hair and (fake) leather jacket.

But he was nothing but polite as he greeted you and handed you his bookshop card.

The shop also acted as a library with several books, Rose and Jimmy having implemented the idea after there was an attack at the public library that left the place in reforms for months.

It also allowed the people who couldn’t buy books that regularly to still be able to have new books since you only had to pay for the card when you first got it and pay the small fee for the membership every two months. Or every month if you wanted more perks like extended loans or not having a limit on the amount of books allowed to be checked out.

Most of that money was also directly donated to different causes in Gotham like orphanages and homeless shelters. The community loved Rose and Jimmy for all of that, it was like they were their guardian angels, some customers had told you that they were godsent.

As you proceeded to scan the books that the mysterious young man had brought you, you realized that his card was fairly new and came to the conclusion that Rose must have given it to him the week before, when you had your free day.

“Do you have The Rainbow Fish? I tried to look for it but I couldn’t find it.” He spoke up and you looked up at him, surprised once more, since most people either loved or hated that book.

“Uhm. If it’s not on the shelf, it must have been checked out. Let me see.” You looked it up on the computer. “Yeah, someone took it a few days ago. We should have it by next week, I can keep it in reserve for you if you’d like.” The information seemed to please him since his face lighted up and he let out a sigh of relief.

“That would be great, thank you.”

“No problem. Have a nice day.” You gave him back the books and his card and as you looked at him you realized that he had a very nice smile. You wondered if he would come back often to the bookshop.

“You too.” He said as he opened the door.

And in fact, he did come back to the bookshop rather often, at least once a week and always looking for children’s books. You were very curious about it since it wasn’t very common to see a man like him taking so many children’s books with him.

You couldn’t help but speculate, maybe he was close with kids in his family or maybe he did some kind of volunteering. Either way, you weren’t going to ask, it was out of place and you didn’t know him.

Then, he started checking out other books, this time fiction and most of all classic literature. He sometimes even bought the ones that really brought out his attention. He would always strike up friendly conversation with you as he came to the counter with new books to buy or check out, asking you about some book or asking you for recommendations.

On your most brave days, not really knowing what you were doing, you would even make a comment about the books that he was taking with him and he answered you with enthusiasm, commenting on them with you.

Soon, you were on a first name basis with him and something similar to a friendship blossomed between you two. You started giving snippets of each other's lives, you telling him about a show that you were watching that you really liked or him telling you about one of his siblings’s latest shenanigans.

Jason coming into the shop became something that you looked forward to and Rose and Jimmy, who some days spend the day in the shop helping you out, also saw how close you two were becoming.

Jason even befriended them too and the owners soon treated him like a grandson just like they had done with you so long ago. Jimmy sometimes shoved in his hand his famous homemade cookies and Rose tried to give him a discount for the books that he bought but Jason, like always, refused to accept it.

“What? You’re supposed to leave them inside, it’s on the delivery contract.” You add frustrated.

“Whatever you say. Not my problem.” The new delivery man doesn’t even look at you as he recklessly puts the last of the boxes of new book orders on the sidewalk.

Looking at the now damaged box you grimace. You really hoped that the books inside were okay. They were like your babies.

The man takes his cigarette out of his mouth and puts it out on top of one of the boxes knowingly, looking you dead in the eyes as if challenging you to say something else.

You know that starting a confrontation would get you nowhere, it would be better to file a complaint later that you know would have consequences for him since the delivery service and the bookshop had always had a trusting relationship.

So, knowing to pick your battles, you put on a smile and thank him. The man seems surprised at that, surely used to having excuses to play the bully. He just huffs, gets on the truck and leaves. You nod to yourself proudly, you won. But your small, triumphant moment ends as soon as you see the large number of boxes that you now have to carry inside on your own.

Oh, how you missed Charlie.

Charlie was the delivery man before he retired. It had been his job for more than fifty years and even now he was as strong as ever and he had always helped you with the boxes and made you laugh with his adventures from his younger years.

You always gave him a cup of coffee from the machine in the small back room that worked as a break room as he tried to set you up with his grandchildren. Telling you how amazing they were and how one of them was about to become a doctor.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m sure they’re great.” You would always tell him. Because they did sound nice but none of them lived in Gotham. Charlie then would fake a disappointed sigh but the crinkles of a smile around his eyes would always appear.

“Well, let me know if you change your mind, sweetie.” A pause. “Though you should forget about trying here, there isn’t anyone worthy in this godforsaken city.” He would joke.

“Except you, Charlie.” You’d say brightly while winking at him jokingly. And then he would laugh the way only one can when they are satisfied with their life and as happy as they can be, something very rare.

“Don’t let Mary hear you, I know she doesn’t look like it but she can throw a punch.” His eyes would shine with love as he mentioned his wife.

“I don’t doubt it.” You’d answer.

You are brought out of your memories when a voice calls your name.

“Y/N, hi.” You turn to see Jason and you can't help the immediate smile that makes its way across your lips.

“Hi. How are you?”

“I’m good. I was just about to go in when I saw you out here. What’s all of this?” He looks around at all the boxes that the pedestrians were avoiding.

“Delivery day.” You say as you take one of the boxes in your arms. His eyes widen. With that funny expression on his face he looked cute, which made him even more handsome than usual. It wasn’t even fair.

Focus, Y/N.

“And you always do this alone?”

“No, the new delivery guy is just an idiot. Charlie always helped me.”

“Charlie?” He raises an eyebrow as he too grabs a box from the floor.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’m helping you.” He replies without hesitation, you shake your head.

“I can’t let you do that, you’re a customer.”

“It’s no problem. Plus, this way you will finish this earlier and you can recommend me another book after the heartbreak that you gave me with the last one.”

“Sorry.” You say, trying to contain a giggle. He narrows his eyes at you.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.” You confess, this time laughing freely.

You didn’t know it but Jason thought that you looked beautiful. Even more so than some days, if that was even possible, with the wind carrying your laugh to him and rustling your hair. God, he was in deep.

“So, are you going to let me help you or not?”

“Fine.” You finally comply.

And as you two enter the boxes he repeats his question from earlier. “Well, who’s Charlie?”

“Oh, just the best delivery old man you will ever meet.” You answer, your affection for the man clearly present in your voice.

“Do you collect them?”

“What?” You ask confused.

“Grandparents, old people. You have your own grandparents, Rose, Jimmy and now I learn about this Charlie. Do you collect them?” You smile at his comment. Truth was, he had a point.

“Well, I guess you could say that. In fact, now that I think about it, most of my friends are old people. I mean, it kind of makes sense, my perfect Friday night is staying at home reading with a hot chocolate.” For a moment silence settles between you and you worry that you might have overshared and that you were creeping him out.

“You’re an old soul.” He finally says. And the way that he does so makes you stop, like he admires you for it, as if he likes the peace that comes with such a statement.

“Maybe.” You reply, resuming your step.

“I wish I could do that.” You arch an eyebrow. “Stay at home at night during the weekends and just relax.” He adds.

“Why’s that?”

“I work nights.”

“Oh. It must be hard.”

“Yeah, sometimes it is.” After saying that his gaze gets lost, as if for a moment he wasn’t there with you anymore, but deep into his thoughts and memories.

“Do you have any? Grandparents, I mean.” You say to distract him and bring him back.

“Just one, Alfred. Although he is in more the middle of being a father and a grandfather. He raised me along with Bruce.” As soon as he says that, you know that he is just as surprised at himself as much as you are at the confession since it is by far the most personal thing that he had ever shared with you.

It is also clear that there was a lot of history behind that statement. It seems a serious matter and the other times that you two talked, he mostly kept it lighthearted with you.

The mysterious man that had first entered into the bookshop had let you see a crack in him. He trusts you. Or at least, he was beginning to do so in a more personal way. You only feel lucky that you are being able to get closer to him.

You sense how his instinct to flight was about to strike, clearly not used to this kind of situation and being awkward about how to manage it. So, you decide to change the topic, in what you think is a smooth way, to relax the ambience and to selfishly see if you could keep him at your side just a little bit longer.

“Well, I can share Rose and Jimmy with you then. As long as you don’t steal my spot as their favorite bookshop grandkid.” Just as you finish talking you see him visibly relax, his tense shoulders acquiring a more loosen stance.

Then, almost unnoticeably, a small smile forms on his lips and another one makes its way to your own.

“Deal.” He ends up saying.

After you both bring in all the boxes, and you check them into the inventory, you open them to put the books in the correspondent shelves. You turn to thank Jason for the help but he's already passing you some of the books for you to place them.

“Thank you, but you don’t have to do this. You already did too much.”

“Nope. I’m not leaving.” He just hands you the books in his grasp and grabs some more. You stand there stunned. Where did this gorgeous kind man come from?

“Okay. At least let me give you a coffee.” You go to the break room and not even a moment later, after quickly asking him how he liked it, not even giving him the option to refuse it, you return with a cup in your hands. He whispers a thank you and when you hand it to him, his fingers so lightly graze yours, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“You don’t want one?” He asks, seeing that you had only brought a single cup.

“Oh, I don’t like coffee much.” He nods and then you get to work, looking at the books, classifying them and ordering them.

Jason keeps passing them to you and sipping the coffee in the comfortable silence. He’s glad that you’re so concentrated because that way you won’t notice how entranced he is with you. He watches you and just by your movements he knows that you’re in your element. It was clear that you enjoyed what you did.

At some point, you start humming a repertoire of the songs from Beauty and the Beast, probably without realizing it. Jason doesn’t mention it, knowing that most likely you would become ashamed and stop.

So, Jason lets the moment pass by, your company and the peaceful atmosphere of the bookshop making a warm feeling wash over him. Making him feel safe and relaxed. Something that didn’t usually happen to him, but that being in the bookshop and in your presence, always made him feel that way.

When he eventually left, you didn’t even realize that he had done so without taking any book with him.

“Hey.”

The sudden voice makes you stumble on the ladder that you were on to return a book to its place in one of the top shelves. You know that there is nothing that you can do to prevent your fall but still in a hopeful attempt, you drop the book that was in your hand to the floor, and extend your arms to try and gain some balance.

All of this happens in milliseconds and even then, you have time to exclaim “Jesus!” from the surprise, preparing yourself in any way you can for your imminent fate.

However, just as fast as it all happened, a hand settles on your waist to stabilize you and another one grips the ladder to stop its wobbling. And just like that, you’re back on your feet again. You look down and there he is.

Your knight in shining leather jacket.

“Not exactly but close enough.” Jason can’t help replying to your previous exclamation. It had never crossed his mind before but now that he thinks about it, he realizes that he has something quite peculiar in common with the biblical figure. With all the ‘been dead done that’ stuff. The weird coincidence and his own comment making him chuckle to himself.

You also huff out a small laugh, not at his comment, that you couldn't possibly fully understand, not yet, but at your own clumsiness. Laughing being almost always your immediate reaction whenever you fell or, like in this case, almost did.

“Oh my god, thank you.” You say relieved with a thankful smile on your face.

“It’s nothing. I’m sorry actually, you almost died because of me.”

“No, don’t worry, you just surprised me. Plus, me and high places have never been a great combination.” He chuckles at your comment and you smile in return.

Much to your disappointment, he lets go of your waist, but it doesn’t last long as he holds out his hand for you to help you come down from the ladder. You know that he’s just being polite and that you should finish what you were doing on the ladder but after the brief scare you’d like to put your feet on firm ground again for even just a small bit.

That, and the fact that you would take any chance that you could get to be close to Jason and hold his hand. Honestly, who wouldn’t?

So, you accept his hand and, just to be even more safe and avoid any possible risk of course, not for any other reason, you support yourself on his shoulder on the way down. He leads you to the ground with a small smile on his face and then sadly, lets go of your hand.

You miss the contact instantly.

“There we go.” He says, so low, that it’s almost like a whisper.

You take a moment to address him and look him over, the feel of his strong shoulder under your hand still tickling your fingers at your side. And for a split second, just a tiny little one, you wish that you had actually fallen from the ladder so that he could have caught you in his arms.

Damn it.

Now that the idea had occurred to you, you would think about it for days.

Jason leans down to retrieve the book that you had dropped earlier and with an ease and balance that you could only dream of, he returns it to the open spot that you had been reaching for on the top shelf. It makes you both jealous and in awe of the way in which he can almost effortlessly do so. Even though even he had to step onto the first step of the ladder to reach it.

Stupid tall attractive people.

Jason enters the bookshop excited to see you. He hadn’t been able to come by for a few days and he did not like it one bit. Coming to see you were the best parts of his week, because if he was being honest, the books themselves had stopped being a motivator a long time ago.

Probably the second or third time that he had visited the bookshop.

He was just thankful that you didn’t seem to notice that you were the main reason that he came by. You would probably think that he was being creepy. However, much to his dismay, Rose and Jimmy were very much aware of how much he liked you.

They always had that knowing smile whenever they saw you two talking and they definitely knew about the insane amount of books that he checked out weekly as an excuse to see you. Books that were impossible for him to read from one visit to another in such a short amount of time and that just spent several days stacked in his house.

Thankfully, for the moment, they had never said something to you or directly commented it to him either, as they wisely knew that you two needed to take things at your own pace.

He closes the entrance door behind him and his brows furrow in confusion not seeing you behind the counter, where he would usually find you reading or taking care of a customer. Maybe you’re in the bathroom, doing something in the break room or organizing the shelves.

But then, Rose emerges from the break room behind the counter greeting him.

Oh.

A slight feeling of disappointment settles in him. It’s not that he didn't like Rose, he really enjoyed chatting with her, he just really wanted to see you. And if Rose was here maybe you weren’t working today. But it couldn’t be, you always worked Thursdays.

Not that he had paid any attention to your schedule or anything.

Then it suddenly occurs to him that maybe you have taken the day off. He’s as happy for you as much as he’s disappointed. Everyone knew that you worked too much for your own good.

Still, the selfish part of him wanted to spend just a tiny little bit of time with you.

“Good afternoon, Rose. How are you?” Jason finally greets back.

“I’m good, sweetie, just checking day. And you?”

“Glad to hear it. I’m fine too. Just came in looking for…” Damn it, he didn’t even prepare an excuse of a book. A few seconds trail on and Jason still doesn’t say anything.

“For a…” He had been caught like a deer in headlights. He avoids Rose’s intense gaze that was still set on him waiting for him to say something. This is so embarrassing. And he was supposed to be one of the daring vigilantes of Gotham?

Pathetic. That’s what he was.

He could face villains but he couldn’t come up for an excuse to see you. Jason clears his throat.

“For a…” Jason’s starting to worry that he has entered some sort of self loop and is about to facepalm himself for his own stupidity when Rose’s lips break into a wide grin and she chuckles. She was messing with him. Like always, she definitely knew what exactly he was in there for. Jason smiles and lets out a sigh of relief.

“She’s on her break.” Rose says, nodding his head in your direction, towards the shelves.

“Thank you.” Jason turns to go find you when Rose speaks up once again.

“Oh and, by the way, since you’re on it, can you get her for me please? I want to tell her something and I’m about to meet Jimmy for lunch.”

“Of course.” He answers while Rose gives him a thankful smile.

Jason starts to pace through the bookshelves, looking for you, but you’re nowhere to be found.

Until he passes by between a couple of them and sees something on the floor. He takes a couple of steps back and there you are, sitting on the floor with books about to be shelved, he supposes, and a book in your own hands that must have had you so immersed and distracted that you hadn’t heard him come in, nor his conversation with Rose.

A fond smile makes an appearance on his lips. He loved seeing you like this, in the place that you loved most, doing what you loved most, lost in a book. He realizes that he would never get tired of that sight. Still, it’s an intimate and private moment for you and he doesn’t want to linger too much on it and intrude. Plus, Rose was looking for you.

“Hi.” He says softly as to not startle you, after the scare from the last time. Which by the way, had been replaying in his head over and over again, the electrifying feeling of your hand in his forever engraved in his mind.

“Y/N.” He tries.

Nothing. That book really had you in a trance. He huffs a small laugh and takes a couple of steps closer to you, hands in his pockets.

“Earth to Y/N.” You let out a small hum to acknowledge him but your gaze is still fixed on the ink. He’s about to call you again when you finally get out of your trance and steal a quick look to see who had talked to you.

Your eyes widen like plates, probably realizing that you had spent too long reading on the floor. You quickly get up and Jason notices how even in your distressed state, you close the book with care and slightly organize the mess around you, your hands treating each book carefully.

He wonders if you would treat him with the same carefulness and affection. For a split second, he even wishes it was him that your hands were treating and not books. Jealousy over books. Huh, that was new.

He also couldn’t help but wonder if you were that way with everything. If even when you weren’t at your best, or going through something, treating things, people, the world around you with care and kindness came as second nature to you, sometimes without even realizing it. He had a feeling that the answer was yes.

And once again, he realizes how much the dark part of his life clashed so much with yours. But before he can get too much into his own head, once more, just like several times before, you bring him back.

“Oh my god, Jason, I’m so sorry.” You start, taking the few steps that separated you from him. “I don’t know how it happened, I swear. God, were you waiting a lot?” He doesn’t like the worry settled on your features one bit, like always, making him feel uneasy. Like the other previous few times that he has seen you like this, he makes it his mission and his top priority to change it.

“No, not at all. Don’t worry.” You nod while your tense posture finally seems to relax a bit. “You okay?” He adds.

“Yeah, yeah. I just… Got a little bit distracted.” You say as you retrieve the books from the floor and your head motions towards them. Jason smiles at you, knowing the feeling of being so engrossed in a book that everything else faded away.

“Rose was looking for you by the way. She was about to head out to meet Jimmy.”

“Oh, right.”

When you both go back towards the counter and you take your usual spot behind it, Rose is already putting her coat on and about to leave.

“I’m so sorry Rose, I got myself carried away and…” You start but Rose stops you with a shake of her head.

“It’s okay, honey. Just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving now.” You let out a sigh of relief. You really have the best bosses in the world.

“Okay, have a nice lunch.”

“Thank you, darling. Goodbye kids.”

“Goodbye.” Both you and Jason say. And just before Rose closes the door behind her, she winks at you and you feel your cheeks warm at the unspoken insinuation. Enjoy your time alone. You steal a quick look at Jason, hoping that he hasn’t seen Rose’s wink and sigh in relief when you see that he’s already turned towards you, facing away from the door.

Though, now that you think about it, you could swear that it was Jimmy the one that was supposed to meet Rose at the bookshop today, not the other way around. That woman was too smart for her own good.

“Well, what can I do for you today?” You ask Jason once you turn towards him.

“I…” Quick, Jason, think. “Could you extend my loan for the book from last week?” Nice save.

“Sure.” As you click on the computer, Jason takes a look at the stack of books that you had brought back with you from the shelves and that you have left on the counter.

“What got you so entranced back there?”

“Oh.” You say and you turn to the stack of books. Your eyes shining with excitement now. “We just got these new Jane Austen hardcovers and they’re just so gorgeous, look.”

You take the one on top of the stack, the one that you had been reading, and hand it to him. Pride and Prejudice. He takes it from your hands, your fingertips slightly grazing one another’s. Jason looks at the cover that feels soft yet sturdy in his hands. It was simple with just the title of the book and Austen’s name but the intricate and beautiful designs that decorated it made it, as you had said, a gorgeous edition.

“Wow. These are great.” He says with childlike wonder lacing his tone. He opens the book and his eyes skim over the pages and passages that he has read so many times before.

“I know, right? I was just admiring them one last time before putting them on the shelves and I just opened one to read a couple of paragraphs but next thing I know, I was ten pages in. I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen.” You confess. Jason laughs softly.

“Don’t worry, that’s just the Jane Austen effect. I get it, it happens to me too.” You can’t help but stare at him for a few seconds, blinking slowly, processing the newfound information. Thankfully, he’s still engrossed in the book.

This man likes Jane Austen? Is he trying to kill you or something? As if you couldn’t like him even more.

“You like Austen?” You ask, still a bit in disbelief, though it doesn’t really surprise you, since from the very beginning you had noticed how he was a very cultured person and how he had a great taste in books.

How sexy is that? To you, very. Very sexy.

“I love her. Basic, I know, but this one’s my favorite.” He answers as he puts the book back on top of the stack. As if anything in him could be basic, as if you don’t find him to be one of the most fascinating persons that you have ever met in your entire life.

“It’s not basic, it’s great. I love it too but I think that I prefer Northanger Abbey.” You pause. “Or Persuasion.” You pause again. “Or Emma.” You pause to think once more and Jason looks at you amused, loving how passionate you are when talking about it. “Or… Okay well, I love all of them! I can’t choose just one.” Jason smirks.

“Perfectly valid and understandable answer.” He says. You both look at each other for a second too long and then his phone starts ringing, breaking the moment. You give a slight jump and busy yourself going back to finish renewing his loan on the computer.

But to your surprise, he just takes it out of his pocket, looks quickly at the screen and directly hangs up. You raise an eyebrow but continue with your task, a small smile making its way across your lips, flattered that he prefers to keep talking to you rather than picking up his phone.

“Well, done. You have another week to…” You’re interrupted when his phone rings again. Jason huffs annoyed and silences it again.

“Sorry.” He says. You shake your head.

“It’s okay.” The phone rings a third time. It must be really important. “Though I think you should take it.” Jason looks at his phone in his hands, then at you, back at his phone, and then at you again, still doubtful, but you nod encouragingly. He seems torn and undecided, but he finally nods to himself and gives you an apologetic look before answering.

“What?” He says annoyingly, taking a couple of steps away from the counter as you pretend to check things on the computer and try (and fail) not to eavesdrop.

He’s going to kill Steph. He really is. She never calls him and now there is something so important that she has to call him three times and interrupt his talk with you? It better be good.

“Heyyy. Jaybiiird. My bestieeee, the best vigilante in Gotham that there is.” Jason can already start to feel a headache forming, he brings a palm to his face and then runs it through his hair. You watch the gesture with envy. How many times had you daydreamed about doing the very same gesture? Probably too many.

“I can’t talk right now.” He quickly glances at you, still at the computer. This is stupid.

“Pleaseeee, I need your help.” At her pleading tone Jason sighs tiredly and pinches his nose, even though he knows that he shouldn’t be listening. With the way that she’s talking it’s probably a stupid favor or something, he would much rather be talking with you.

“Steph, what do you want?”

Steph? At that your head perks up slightly. His girlfriend, maybe? Your shoulders deflate thinking of the possibility. He had never mentioned having one but you also had never asked. Why would you even ask? You’re just friends, or something like that, it would seem like it was coming out of nowhere. As your thoughts keep spiraling and you stare blankly at the screen in front of you, Jason carries on with his conversation.

“You’re going to laugh…” Steph starts.

Jason rolls his eyes, catches your eyes and mouths my sister. You just nod and your spiraling thoughts stop abruptly. Thank god. Although the possibility of him having a girlfriend is still there, now that you don’t have to face it directly, you decide not to linger too much on it. Keeping the thought away and trying to ignore it, just like you had been doing since you met him. That’s a future problem for future you.

Jason changes his phone from one ear to the other as he listens to Steph stumble through her words. If she’s going to keep beating around the bush, he might as well hang up.

“Okay, bye.” He’s about to end the call when Steph speaks up again.

“I lost Damian.” Jason’s eyes widen as he turns to his other side.

“You what?” He whisper-shouts into the phone.

“Okay so, Damian is grounded, okay? Something about driving the batmobile without permission and then…”

“Steph.” Jason warns through gritted teeth, clearly meaning go to the point.

“Okay, okay! So, I’m on babysitting duty alright? And Damian had been talking non stop about this new limited art exposition in the museum that he wanted to go to and that it wasn’t fair that he was grounded and blah blah blah.”

“Okay, and?”

“And… Well, there was this new season of this show coming out today and I just got distracted for a bit and then he kinda… Disappeared?” God. Jason closes his eyes in frustration. His family really knew how to be the most infuriating at the worst of times. He stays silent for a moment mentally cursing them before opening his eyes again.

“Told you you were going to laugh…” Steph repeats at his silence and Jason sighs, making you giggle quietly at the sibling interaction. Jason smiles at the sound.

“So what? Just go to the museum after him.” He finally answers.

“That’s the thing, I am at the museum and I just can’t find him. Damn that kid and his ninja training.” Steph hisses through the line. “Can you come and help me find him please?” He could hear her pouting.

“Why me?”

“You’re the only one that picked up.” And now he was sure that she was smiling innocently but full of mischief. Jason huffs. As soon as he saw Steph’s name on his screen he knew that he shouldn’t have picked up.

“No.” He says.

“Come on, pleaseeee. I’ll owe you one. If I don’t find Damian I will be the one that’s grounded next.” Honestly, who had put her on babysitting duty? Who had even grounded Damian to begin with? It was impossible to try and control that kid.

Damn it, Bruce.

“Bruce can’t ground you.”

“Oh yes, he can. I’m sure he’ll find a way. He’ll make me go supervise Condiment King or something! Please, Jason, please." Jason sighs. “Please, please, please, please. I’ll do all the research that you need for a week!” Mmhm. That’s interesting. That would certainly leave him with more time to see you.

“A month.” He counteroffers and sees you smiling at his bickering, making his insides feel giddy. Steph groans.

“A month? You know that’s too much.”

“Do you want my help or not?” Silence.

“Arrrg, okay, okay! Well, we’ll talk about it, now, can you please come here?”

“With pleasure.” He says amused. Even though his family can be infuriating at times, he had to admit that they had their good moments and he enjoyed annoying them just as much as they did him.

“You’re so arrogant, oh my god. I pity whoever decides to put up with you.” Steph says and Jason can’t help but steal a glance in your direction.

“Just remember that you owe me a big one.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just come here. I’ll wait for you at the entrance.”

“Okay.” Before he hangs up, he hears Steph speak up again.

“Hey Jaybird.” Jason hums. “Thanks.” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Bye.”

“And say hi to Y/N for me-!” He hangs up before you can hear Steph’s loud teasing voice. He knew that talking about you in front of his family wasn’t the best of ideas but he just couldn’t help it. You occupied his thoughts a lot more than what he was willing to admit.

“Sorry.” He says as he approaches the counter once again and puts his phone in his pocket.

“It’s okay. Sibling drama then?” You ask playfully as you raise an eyebrow.

“You have no idea. It was Steph, she used to date one of my brothers. Tim.” You look at him confused.

“I thought you said she was your sister?”

“Yeah, I mean- it’s… It’s complicated. That was how we met her but she’s like a sister to me now.”

“I see.”

“Sorry, we’re quite a mess.” He chuckles awkwardly, running his hand through his hair and the white streak once again. The movement, like always, has you hypnotized. It should be illegal. Jason thinks that he should just stop talking, now he has weirded you out with his stupid and crazy family.

“Aren’t we all?” You say softly as you tilt your head in the cutest of ways. Honestly, the more that he told you about his family, the more you realized how peculiar they were. But they seemed really close to each another, which was what really mattered.

“Yeah… I guess so.” He trails on as he gets lost in your eyes again. You nod and he shakes out of his daze. “Well, I should get going. Duty calls.” He adds as he nods towards the door and taps his fingers against his side of the counter nervously.

“Okay. Hope everything goes well with whatever it is.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you next time.” Something about the security of knowing that he will always come back, and that there will always be a next time with him, raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Yeah. Next time.” You both look at each other as he walks towards the door.

Something lingers in the air, as if both of you want to say something else but do not dare to do so. Do not dare to cross the invisible line in your strange friendship usually defined by the safety of the counter that almost always stayed between you two in your interactions.

Jason grabs the door handle and holds it open for a moment as you speak one last time.

“See you soon then?” It’s a stupid sentence, already remarking what you both have already said, but it’s as good of an excuse as any to make him stay just a few seconds longer.

“See you soon.” Jason nods smiling at you and then, the door closes behind him.

You’re reading at the counter when the bell on top of the door jingles. You look up, hoping to find green eyes but are met with a stressful boy looking around the shop. As if in his distressed state, he can’t find you behind the counter.

“Hi.” You say as you bookmark your page. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh. Hi. Yeah.” He says as he quickly approaches you. He shakes his head to move the hair out of his blue eyes and takes a piece of paper out of his pocket. His hunched posture and shaky mannerisms tells you that he hasn’t caught a break in a while. This poor boy needs a rest.

“I’ve been looking for this book everywhere and I can’t find it anywhere. It’s my boyfriend’s birthday tomorrow, he loves mysteries and conspiracies and I need to find it. My brother told me that this is the best bookshop in all of Gotham and that you can find anything here.” He rambles as he gives you the piece of paper. You take the paper and look at the boy as he slightly bounces on his feet looking around the shop.

You raise an eyebrow. A distracted boy that seems to always be running and a brother that recommends the bookshop? Sounds quite familiar.

“Tim?” You can’t help but guess, though you’re still a bit unsure. Jason had mentioned him a few times and how his younger brother always seemed to be doing a hundred things at once. At that his bouncing stops abruptly and finally looks at you for more than a few fleeting seconds, suspicious of how you know his name.

“Sorry, hi. I’m Y/N. Jason comes here often and has mentioned you a few times.” You say nervously. The information seems to take a little bit longer than usual to register due to his distressed state but then when he finally recognizes you, his alert posture relaxes.

“Oh, Y/N! Hi, yes. I’m Tim. Nice to meet you.” He says as he holds out his hand and you shake it. “Jason talks about you too.” He adds. You feel your cheeks go warm.

“Well, nice to meet you too. Are you okay? You seem a bit stressed.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just that I’ve been putting together this party for my boyfriend and the gift is being so hard to find it’s giving me headaches. Please tell me that you can help me.”

“Of course.” You say. “But first, take a deep breath.” He looks at you as if he doesn’t know what you mean. “You need to rest and relax a bit if you want to make it to your boyfriend’s birthday tomorrow without dropping from exhaustion.” You nod encouraging him and then take a deep breath yourself so that he can imitate you. Thankfully, he does so after shaking his shoulders to release tension and then stays with his eyes closed, taking a moment.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He answers, opening his eyes.

You nod. “No problem. Let’s find that book.” You look at the piece of paper and type in the title and author of the book on the system. It’s a limited edition of a book about the old history of Gotham and thankfully, you have one copy in the storage room. “Got it. I’ll be right back.” Tim sighs in relief as you leave the counter.

When you come back, you bring the book and a cup of coffee from the break room with you.

“This is so that you can get home to rest until tomorrow without dying on the way.” You say as you slide the coffee towards him.

“Oh thanks, but it’s not necessary.” You stare at him, having clearly seen how the idea of coffee almost had him glowing.

“Okay, okay.” He chuckles as he goes to take the coffee but you keep the cup in place.

“Promise that when you get home, you will rest. Do not take anymore coffee so that you can keep organizing things.” Tim looks at you, your firm tone and kind intentions making him clearly see why Jason is so smitten with you. He can also easily see himself trusting you and becoming friends with you.

“Promise.” He says honestly. You nod, letting go of the cup. "If you want more milk or sugar-" You can't even finish the sentence as he shakes his head, having already taken the cup into his hands and taken a sip.

“Mm, not necessary. This is great. Thank you.”

You smile. “You’re welcome. Do you want to wrap the book?”

“Yes, please.” He says.

“The Rainbow Fish? Again?” You say chuckling as Jason puts it on the counter for what probably was the third or fourth time. You really were starting to run out of options wondering why he always checked out so many kids’ books. But it just felt very intrusive to ask, he never said anything more about it either, probably not wanting to talk about it much.

“Yeah.” He says as you scan the book and pass his card on the system.

“I loved this book when I was little.” A nostalgic look on your eyes as you gaze at the cover of the book, remembering the silver scales of the arrogant fish that he had to give away in order to be accepted instead of just being a nicer fish.

The message of the book in the end was good: not think of yourself as superior to others. But there was something about having to give up something that you were proud of and that was special about you in order to be accepted that always felt a little off putting to you when you grew up, especially when being kind could have just resolved everything.

“Though it sure as hell began my people pleasing problems.” You add giggling a bit without thinking. But when what you have said registers, you freeze, hands on the book and blank stare on them, not daring to look up at Jason.

Where the fuck did that come from?

You shut your eyes, praying to whatever was out there to let you die of embarrassment. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You had definitely freaked him out. That’s it. He would walk out of the bookshop and never come back. Why would you even say that? You weren’t thinking, that’s it. It had just slipped. You had become so used to being able to be yourself and talk about everything with Jason that it just felt so easy and comfortable to say whatever was on your mind.

Finally, you decide to sentence your fate and just end with this terribly awkward conversation as soon as possible.

“Sorry.” You say. “I honestly don’t know where that came from.” Jason just chuckles though not in a mocking manner, but in an understanding way.

“Don’t worry, I get it.” He assures you. You look back down, missing Jason’s look of appreciation, loving your honesty and how flustered you were. He found it endearing. “Well, thanks.” He says as he goes to take the book on the counter.

Your whole body then tenses in alarm when you see the state of his hands, which until now, had been hidden in his pockets. Without thinking, once again, (seriously, what was wrong with you today?), you take his hands to take a closer look at them.

Jason lets out a small gasp as you do so and mentally smacks himself for letting you see his wounded knuckles, now him being the one that wanted to die of embarrassment. It was only so much that the gloves of his Red Hood gear could do to protect them.

“What happened?” You whisper, worry etched onto every single one of your features.

Fuck.

How had he been so careless? He should have bandaged them, hidden them better or put make up on them. He just wasn’t used to having someone worry about him and his wounds like you were right now. At his silence, you try again:

“Jason.” Now he was the one avoiding your gaze. But you persist, finally making eye contact with him. “What happened? Are you okay?” He wills himself to get out of his stupor and even though deep down he doesn’t want to, out of the soft touch of your hands too, bringing his own back to his sides.

“It’s nothing. It’s just… I do boxing.” He says as he shrugs his shoulders. “It happens.” You raise an eyebrow, suspicious. It feels like something doesn’t fully add up.

You know that there are things that Jason isn’t telling you. He has made some strange comments before but you always let it go. You know that eventually, if he wants to, when he’s ready, he will tell you. God knows that you have your own things too.

But if there is something that you have learned about your growing friendship with Jason is that you both like to take things at your own pace. Trusting and becoming close with each other slowly but steadily.

Letting time do its work. Not forcing the flow of things. And you like it that way. Life is always everchanging so to have something so solid and safe like what you have with him, you want to treasure it and nurture it. Although all of that of course, doesn’t stop you from worrying about him and wanting to take care of him.

So, you just nod, accepting his explanation, but not without having a little bit of fun.

“I thought that in boxing you were supposed to wear gloves to avoid that very kind of injuries.” You say with a playful smile.

Shit.

Jason wants to facepalm himself. He really seemed to just have one brain cell whenever he was around you. At his lack of response you shake your head.

“Come, let me patch that up at least.”

“Oh, no, no. It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Jason.” You throw him a glance.

“Y/N.” He maintains your stare. Finally, a small smile escapes your lips and you put an end to the staring contest, rounding the counter and taking his hands once again and guiding him to the break room. Allowing yourselves this moment since there aren't any other customers in the store right now. Jason lets you, knowing that in the end, he will never be able to deny you anything.

Once in the break room, you sit him down at a chair by a table and leave for a moment before you return with a first aid kid. You sit down in front of him and look at him softly.

“Can I?” You motion towards his hands. Jason swallows and only finds the courage to nod slowly.

The knuckles are far from being the worst that they have ever been and Jason always tries to take care of them but he had just arrived home from patrol the night before so exhausted that he had only managed to clean them before passing out on his bed. Right now, they’re mostly just reddened with a couple of points in which the skin is broken.

Jason then finds out that he was right. When you take his left hand and start treating the wound, cleaning it again and applying some antiseptic on it, he sees that you treat him with the same care and thoughtfulness that you did with those books all those weeks ago.

Almost as if he was something delicate, something precious. If not more.

The beat of his heart quickens and he wonders if in the silence of the room, you can hear it.

This is the very first time that Jason has been back here, the setting of your interactions always being the open part of the bookshop and this change of scenario makes it seem like something has shifted between you two. Like you weren’t just employee and customer with a friendly relationship anymore but like you have a real friendship and a deeper connection.

The whole time, as you treat his other hand too and then slowly bandage both of them, Jason looks at you. He’s glad that you’re only fixed on his hands because that way he can take all the time that he wants to admire you.

The concentrated look in your eyes, the way that your eyebrows furrow in concentration, how you put a strand of hair that has fallen out behind your ear, and the occasional and very tortuous moment in which you bite your lip in concentration, being extra careful in not hurting him.

And that's when the weight of how much he feels for you falls on him. He was already aware of it before but now is when he can really feel the weight of it all. How what he feels for you is not just an infatuation or a crush, but something deeper that runs beneath his skin, crawling into him, taking root. Settling and making a home there.

“Done.” You whisper. And as you retract your hands from his, Jason wishes that he never had to part from your touch.

You put all the things that you used back into the first aid kit and try not to think about the impulse that you had, but that you thankfully had managed to repress, of kissing his knuckles when you finished bandaging them.

“Be careful, okay?” You say. Jason nods, admiring your work but when you don’t take your eyes off of him he answers:

“Yeah. Promise.” You nod satisfied. Then Jason remembers another promise that he had made. “Tim wanted me to thank you by the way. Bernard loved the book.” He says.

“Oh, that’s right! It was no problem, it was really great to meet him. How was his boyfriend’s party? Bernard’s I guess?” You say excited.

“Tim said it went great. And that thanks to you he didn’t fall asleep during it and was actually able to enjoy it.” You giggle in response when suddenly, Jason’s phone beeps and he takes a quick look. Firefly alert downtown. He jumps out of his seat.

“Sorry, I have to go. Thank you, really.” And faster than a bullet, he’s gone.

You sigh, shaking yourself out from the intimate moment and when you return to the counter, you see that in his hurry, Jason forgot to take The Rainbow Fish with him. You take the book and put it under the counter, keeping it for him for next time.

You’re running some errands when you see two large men crowding a little girl. She can’t be older than six and she’s clutching onto a teddy bear for dear life.

Anger and fear for the little girl rage inside you, it is broad daylight and there are quite a few people on the street, yet everyone seems to carry out their business ignoring the men trying to talk the girl into going with them. You knew how Gotham was but it seemed like the city always found a way to surprise you.

“Come on, your mommy told us to come get you.” You hear one of the men say to the girl as you quickly approach them.

“I don’t have a mom.” The girl manages to say, distrustful. And even though hearing that makes you sad, you admire the girl, you can tell that she’s smart.

“Can I help you?” You hiss as you put yourself between the two men and the girl, putting an arm out to keep her behind you. You see the two men exchange a look, clearly discussing if it is worth it to cause a scene in the middle of the street.

“No. We were just leaving.” One ends up saying, giving a clap to the back of the other, directing them away from you and the girl. As they turn to leave, they try to give one last look to the little girl but you move to block their line of sight.

When they turn the corner at the end of the street, you finally let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the confrontation didn’t escalate to anything more.

You knew you didn’t actually stand a great chance against them physically, and seeing how people were ignoring the situation before, you’re not sure that anyone would have helped you.

Adrenaline is still pumping through your veins as you turn and kneel on the floor to be eye level with the girl, who takes a step back in fear but you hold your hands up, trying to show her how you’re not a threat.

Now that you can see her clearly, you see how scared she really is. She is shaking slightly, still clutching her worn out teddy bear with tears in her eyes. Her clothes aren’t in the best state either and her shoes are two steps more from falling apart. Just by looking at her you can tell that she has to have spent nights on the street.

Your heart breaks. It really was unfair how many unfortunate people and kids lived in such dire situations in Gotham. Of course you knew that there were people trying to change things and do better like the vigilantes or normal people like you, that even if it was in the smallest of ways, always tried to help somehow. You did so by either giving away the clothes that you didn’t use anymore or doing donations whenever you could. But sometimes it still seemed like the bad outweighed the good.

“Hi, honey.” You say in a soft voice to try and calm the little girl. “I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”

She stops backing up against the wall of the building, sniffs and rubs her eyes, before looking at you, deciding whether or not to trust you.

“Lily.” You hear her squeak out. Her grip on the teddy bear relaxes and she starts playing with its ear, still not looking directly at you.

“Hi Lily, it’s very nice to meet you.” You say as you extend a hand to her, wanting to give her some sense of normalcy. She slowly takes it and you give her a soft shake. “You okay?” She nods. “You know Lily, you were very brave standing up to those men.”

“They were bad” She says. You nod. “Jay always says not to trust strangers and much less big scary men.”

“He’s very right. Is he your brother?” Maybe you can help her get back to her family. If you managed to do so, it would be much better than bringing her to the police and then, sadly, most likely than not, forgotten in the foster care system.

“No. A friend. A very good friend.”

“Okay, good. That’s very important.” You look around, trying to see if somebody is looking for her. “Do you live nearby?”

“I think so.” She says shyly, you give her an encouraging look to see if she can give you any more information. “I was chasing a cat but I think that I took a wrong turn.”

“Okay. How about I go with you and try to find your way back?” You say as you stand back up. You’re happy to see that Lily doesn’t look scared anymore. Instead, she looks almost… Excited?

“Yes, please! I don’t want to miss it!” She says as she grabs your hand and starts walking in the direction that you suppose she came.

“Miss what?” You ask, but she’s already telling you everything about her teddy bear, who seems to be Batbear at night, fighting crime and kicking butt like the heroes in Gotham.

Turns out that Lily’s home was thankfully a lot closer than what you had expected. After asking her if she remembered a couple of streets and stores, she was able to find the right way back.

You finally reach an open space between two buildings that seems to work as a playground, with a rusty basket to play basketball on one side and several boxes and crates littering the corners. Several kids run around playing and chasing each other, most of them in the same condition as Lily.

A group of them surround a bench and you hear him before you see him.

“What do you mean Lily’s not here? Where is she?” He’s running a hand stressfully through his hair, looking around worriedly.

“Jason?” You ask transfixed.

Jason locks eyes with you and freezes, just as surprised to see you as you are to see him.

“Y/N.” He says breathlessly.

“Jay!” Lily’s excited voice filters through the air. You feel her dropping your hand and Jason’s eyes turn to her, relief washing over them. As she runs towards Jason, she extends her arms and he scoops her up and settles her on his waist effortlessly, Lily hugging his neck.

“Lily! Oh my god, where were you? We were all so worried. You’re always here when I arrive.” He says to her.

“I know, I'm sorry! Some bad men tried to take me. But don’t worry, Y/N helped me! She’s a badass!” Jason’s eyes widen at the new information and you see something in them that you had never seen before, a kind of anger that promises danger.

But as soon as that look comes, it disappears, and it makes you wonder if it was ever really there in the first place. He then looks at you, thankful but with a small tint of worry. You just give him a reassuring nod, telling him that everything is okay.

“Why don’t you go with the rest for a bit? I’ll be right there.” He says as he turns to Lily once more.

“Okay!” He settles her back down and she runs off to the other kids.

Jason approaches you quickly in a few strides, it feels like he wants to touch you, take your hands to make sure that you’re okay but he stops himself.

“You okay? What happened?”

“Yeah. I’m okay, don’t worry.” You tell him what happened and you can see how the anger returns to him in the way that he clenches his fists. “But we’re fine and they left so that’s all that matters.” You conclude.

“Where was it?” He asks firmly. You tell him the street where it all happened and Jason seems deep in thought for a moment, like searching for something in his mind. When he finally finds it, he nods resolutely as if he just made a mental note to do something later.

The determination in his eyes sends a chill running down your spine.

“Thank you for helping her.” He says then. “But be careful please, I don’t want you to be in danger.” The very thought makes him shiver, he doesn’t even want to entertain the possibility.

“I know. I am. I just couldn’t stand by.” You respond and he nods, knowing that that was how you were, always looking out for others.

“Anyway, thanks again.” He adds and you nod before looking around you once more.

It then dawns on you that this is the very first time that you are seeing Jason outside of the bookshop and it just feels so strange. When he first entered the shop, it seemed like he stood out like a sore thumb, with his tall frame, rough appearance and black leather jacket against the cozy backdrop of the shop. But now, after so much time, you couldn’t imagine him anywhere else. Now it was like he didn’t fit into any other atmosphere other than at the bookshop.

“Well, and what are you doing here?” You ask curiously.

“Oh, I…”

“So you’re Y/N?” Interrupts a young teen with a knowing smile, followed by a group of other kids, including Lily, clearly having told them her latest adventure. You nod.

“Are you his girlfriend?” Asks another boy now, looking up at you. You let out a small laugh at the way Jason’s eyes widen almost comically at the kid’s boldness.

“No.” You respond, and for a second, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to answer otherwise.

“We’re friends.” Jason says.

“Very good friends.” You can’t help but add and when you steal a nervous glance at Jason, you find him nodding, agreeing with you. Because saying just ‘friends’ feels too simple to describe your relationship with Jason. And what you said still doesn't cover it.

“Really?” The teen boy from earlier asks again with a raised eyebrow. “Because he-” Jason grabs him and puts a hand over his mouth before he can keep talking, smiling innocently at you. You look at the chaotic situation amused.

“Are you staying for the reading?” Lily asks.

“The reading?” You ask confused.

“Yeah! Jason always reads to us and acts out the stories!” Another girl says. And then it clicks.

Jason buys and checks out so many children’s books for them. For these kids. Street kids. Like him. Not only that but he also reads the stories for them. Regularly. You feel like melting into a puddle.

You turn to Jason, an amazed look on your face. As if this man could be any more wonderful. He blushes and looks away in embarrassment. A small smile makes its way across your lips.

“Really? I didn’t know that.” You say, turning to the kids once more.

“Yeah! He’s great at it.” Chirps the same girl.

“Are you staying then?” Lily insists.

You immediately turn to Jason. You would love to but there is a reason for why Jason hasn’t told you about this. It feels like this is something very important to him and that he holds very dear so you don’t want to intrude on that. But Jason is already looking at you, scared yet hopeful, as if he does want you to stay but is afraid that you may want to leave now.

“Well, I would love to. If I’m not a burden of course.”

“Never.” Jason says without missing a beat.

You don’t think that you have ever smiled more brightly.

You end up having one of the best afternoons that you have ever had in a while. Rival only to the other ones in which Jason visits you in the bookstore. You stay and listen as Jason reads them the books that had been sitting on the bench and that you recognize from the bookstore out loud, using different voices, doing exaggerating gestures, and acting out scenes.

You watch as the kids laugh and look at him mesmerized. If you had been able to look into a mirror, you would have found that you had the very same look of admiration as them, maybe even a tiny little bit lovestruck. You can tell that they love him, look up to him and consider him a role model. You can’t help but think that they made an excellent choice.

The crowd is mostly made of small kids, the older ones, in their teenage years, although a few of them listen, most make as if the activity doesn’t interest them, but you can see how they linger around the group while they play basketball or pass by.

You see how what Jason is doing with these kids is a light for them. A moment of escapism, fun and happiness from their lives and problems in the worst neighborhoods of Gotham. Kids forced to grow up earlier to survive. Holding onto whatever source of innocence that they can.

Eventually, they all rope you into reading too and you end up sharing the spotlight with Jason. There are laughs, questions from the kids about yourself, funny comments and the snickering whispers from the older kids at the back about the two of you, having obviously heard about you before.

Jason prays that you can’t see them when they start teasing him and making kissy faces to which he just rolls his eyes. He also prays that you can’t see how he looks at you as you enjoy yourself and laugh at what the kids say. The utter adoration and longing that lay in his eyes.

It isn’t until almost a couple of hours later, when the sun has already disappeared beyond the horizon and the orange hue of the sky has turned purple, that the reading does come to an end.

The kids say their goodbyes, not before inviting you to reading time again and wondering when you will come back. A lot of them already give you a hug as they go, and you see them leave back towards their homes. Most of them go to the adjacent buildings but there are also a few, mostly the older kids, or at least accompanied by them, that go towards the street.

Lily thanks you for your help and even gives you a kiss on the cheek that makes you want to melt and give her a tight hug before she leaves towards the closest building, a girl a few years older than her guiding her by the hand.

And then, after all the chaos and laughs, with the night starting to settle in, it’s just you and Jason once again.

You sit back down on the bench next to him and you both stay there for a moment, enjoying the quiet and the silence of the chill Gotham air.

When you turn to Jason, his green gaze is already on you.

“Thank you for staying. The kids loved having you here.” He whispers as to not disturb the peace that has settled over you both. “I hope that it wasn’t too much.”

“What? No, it was lovely. Really, I had a great time. I’m sorry if I intruded.”

“No, not at all.”

“Now I know why you always check out so many kids’ books. Good to know that you’re not a psychopath with kids in cages or something.” You joke and Jason huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, maybe I should have explained that earlier. It would have been too strange to explain at the beginning but then we became friends and it dragged on and it felt too weird to explain now. I don’t know.” He just didn’t know what you would have thought of him.

“No, no.” You shake your head. “I didn’t mean it like that. This was clearly something very private to you. It’s perfectly understandable not wanting to share it with anybody.”

“You’re not anybody.”

You’re sure your heart stops beating for a moment.

The intensity of his gaze makes you look down at your hands. You can’t remember if anyone has ever looked at you like that.

It’s scary.

In a good way, but still very scary.

“Well, anyway, thank you for letting me be a part of it.” You end up saying and he nods.

Silence settles over you two once again. Neither of you wanting the day to end.

“You hungry? I know a great spot.” He speaks up.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

“I’m starving.”

You love the place as soon as you see it. It’s a small, yet very cozy and lovely diner. Through the outside windows you can see that the color pattern is mostly blue and white with bright pink neon letters announcing that it’s open.

Jason holds the door open for you and the warmness inside the place drastically contrasts with the cold from outside. The delightful smells from the kitchen make your stomach ache with hunger.

“Hi, sweetie! We’ll be right with you!” The old woman at the bar with a brightly tinted red streak in her hair says excitedly.

“Sit wherever you like!” A voice yells next from the kitchen. From the open window that looks into it from the dining area you can see another old woman with a bun.

“Thank you, ladies.” Jason greets.

Your mouth hangs open.

Jason leads you to a booth that stares out into the street. His usual spot, you suppose. As you sit in the comfortable booth and you two take off your coats, you close your mouth and look at Jason with a raised eyebrow. He looks back at you feigning innocence, though you know well that he knows why you’re so surprised.

“What?” He says with a teasing smirk that makes you want to kiss it away.

“You little liar.”

“Hey.” He responds amused. “What did I do now?”

“Looks like I’m not the only one with practically adoptive grandparents that just so happen to run a business.” You say with your arms crossed.

And when Jason laughs, you might as well be addicted to the sound with how much you love it everytime you hear it.

“I knew you were going to say that.” He says and you scoff playfully. “In my defense, I will say that I wasn’t fully ‘officially’ adopted until after we had that conversation. I hadn’t come here enough times for that yet.”

“Mmhm, sure.” You say suspicious as you take the menu from the side of the table and take a quick look over it. “And you wanted to take Rose and Jimmy away from me.” You add, muttering under your breath.

“Excuse me?” Mock outrageousness in his tone.

“What you hear.” You’re trying too hard to hide your smile.

“You know that was never my intention.” He answers and you just hum, pretending to read the menu. “Okay, as an act of peace, you can have Millie and Ruby too.”

“Mhm.” You pretend to think it over.

“I’m sure they’ll love you in no time anyway.” The lightness with which he says that, as if anyone who met you couldn’t help but love you, makes you drop the menu onto the table and look back at him.

“Deal then.” You finally say and you both let out a small laugh.

After that, the woman with the red streak approaches your table and greets you both.

“Good evening kids, how are you today?”

“Good, Ruby, and you?” Jason answers.

“You know, same old, same old.” She says, waving her hand. Then she turns fully to you. “And who might this lovely lady be?” She asks with a knowing smile and an arched eyebrow, almost as if she already knows the answer and knows a secret that you’re not privy to.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“The Y/N?” Ruby says while throwing Jason a look. He just looks away in embarrassment and the neon sign of the window really makes you wonder if the red tint on his cheeks are a reflection of it or not. “Oh, it’s so lovely to meet you dear! We've heard so much about you! We’ve been telling Jason to bring you non-stop. Oh gosh, I gotta tell Millie. Millie! Honey, come here!” She screams towards the kitchen.

Your lips curve into an amused smile, but you also feel heat rush to your face, not really knowing what to do with all the attention and the fact that Jason has been talking about you, what seems to be quite a lot, to other people. Not only his brother, but also the kids and these women.

Millie appears and when she learns who you are, she greets you just as enthusiastically as Ruby has.

“Let me tell you sweetheart, this boy here talks about you-” Millie starts but then she clears her throat as Jason throws her a warning glance. “I mean, about your bookshop all the time.”

“Well, you can drop by anytime.” You offer.

“We will.” Millie assures you. It seems as though both Millie and Ruby want to stay and ask you millions of questions but they see how Jason is begging them with his eyes to leave you two alone, and after taking your orders, they leave with a smile.

“They seem really great.” You say. Their loud nature sign of a joyous life. And even though they seem more energetic, vivacious and chaotic than the calm and quiet way in which Rose and Jimmy carry themselves, you know that they would get along very well. Especially with how all of them seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the interactions that you and Jason have.

“Yeah, they are.” Jason confirms. “But sorry about that, they can come off as a bit overwhelming sometimes.”

“It’s okay. It’s nice to be greeted so welcomely.”

As the night goes on, you find that it is just as easy to talk to Jason outside the bookshop as it is over the counter. It doesn’t surprise you but the underlying fear that your connection only works surrounded by bookshelves finally leaves you.

As you both eat the delicious food that Millie prepared, Jason tells you more about the kids per your request. How he tries to read to them at least once a week, how he brings them food whenever he can and how he has even taught a few of them to read. You also immediately offer up the bookstore to hold the readings but he shakes his head and smiles sadly.

“Thank you, really. That’s very kind of you. But it’s not very viable since the neighborhoods are not very close. Most of the kids have people relying on them and can only make it to the readings from time to time. The playground is also the more common ground, the older kids can’t go very far due to the responsibilities and it’s not safe for the smaller ones to go on their own.”

You nod, but your heart clenches at how these kids can’t enjoy a normal childhood.

“I understand.” You stop and think for a second if you should say what you want to say next, worried about overstepping.

You decide to go for it anyway.

“I’d like to come back for the readings, if that’s okay?” Your voice comes out lower and more unsure than what you had first intended, your hands playing nervously on your lap.

Jason looks at you, as if he can hardly believe you’re real.

“Of course you can. I’m sure they’d love to have you back.” I’d love to have you back. But Jason doesn’t want to scare you or make the whole situation come off too strong. “But are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured, if their insistence-”

“No, no! Really, I had a great time and I would love to be able to see the kids again. Help in any way I can.”

“Okay, then.” He says with a smile pulling at his lips.

The evening stretches on and you two stay at the dinner until closing time. There is a moment that will haunt you for days, as you told him a story, he leaned his arms on the table, giving you his undivided attention, and the way in which his bicep flexed under his sleeve… Nothing has ever been so distracting. Your eyes had been instantly drawn over to it. You really, really hoped that he didn’t notice. You would die of embarrassment otherwise.

You even finally, finally, give each others’ numbers to match schedules for the readings (and to just chat in general of course), since you won’t be able to make it to all of them due to the bookstore hours and so that Jason can let you know if he can’t attend one. You can’t believe you didn’t even have it before with how often you two already talked at the bookshop.

It feels like another shift in your relationship. A stepping stone.

Another brick on the long yet sturdy building road.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

>Part II

#Jason todd x reader #Jason todd fic #Jason todd one shot #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd #Red hood x reader #Red hood fic #Red hood one shot #Red hood imagine #Red hood #Jason todd imagines #Red hood imagines #Children's Books and Leather Jackets #ThreeStarsInLine #Jason todd fluff #Jason todd angst #Red hood fluff #Red hood angst #DC Comics

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kaylopolis · 1 year ago

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Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Seven

Alastor x F!Reader

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power…

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!)

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Author note: Dear Hoteliers, Vox's time to shine :) Lots of plot happening this chapter, let’s go!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Seven - Forget Me Knot

Content Warning: Mentions of Physical Abuse, Self Harm, Blood, Nonconsenting Sexual Interactions, Smut, Minors DNI!!!

And then you ran.

And Alastor did not follow.

The demon sat on his ass in the bayou terrain, staring completely dumbfounded as you disappeared through the tree line. Yet again you had bested him. Yet again you had won.

You didn't use any of your magic, you didn't summon any of your power, and yet the demon sat there, utterly power-less.

The demon angrily threw off his coat, the bayou suddenly too hot, too suffocating. He loosened his bow tie to better catch his breath.

What were you doing to him? What was becoming of the Radio Demon, Hell's Equal Opportunity Killer, Hell's Overlord?

With a crazed look in his eye, the demon ran his hands through his hair again and again, trying to catch his breath and clear his mind.

He had brought you here to hunt you, to demand answers, and yet he somehow ended up the prey. All because of those hips…

Almost as if reading his thoughts, his dick throbbed in his pants.

The demon groaned, trying his best to ignore the want, the need, the desire crawling beneath his skin. His magic hummed, not out of irritation, but out of demand. You had started something but did not finish it.

How rude.

But is that what you were hoping to accomplish? Or was it truly a distraction? So many questions and so few answers.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a door slam shut. Good, you were gone.

Alastor couldn't take it anymore; he undid his pants and pulled his cock free, only to find it weeping precum already. He hissed, wrapping his hand around his shaft.

Fuck, you had blue-balled him.

The first few strokes were painful, and then pain gave way to slowly building pleasure. Hisses turned to moans. Stiff muscles became jelly as he allowed himself to slowly become undone.

He couldn’t remember the last time he did something like this. Even alive he wasn’t a very promiscuous man. Sure, he tried sex a few times, but that was only to please the women in his life. When he couldn’t get it up or couldn’t finish, they assumed something was wrong with them. Were they not pretty enough? Not sexy enough? Bad at kissing? If it went on long enough, then the answer became obvious: the issue was with him. So, technically, he never truly completed the act of sex, but he did try. Not because he wanted to but because the women did.

Frankly, he didn’t see the point to it. There were so many other things he could be spending his time doing. He got good at other things… but that was to keep others satisfied so they wouldn’t come looking for sex. It was a burden, honestly. He used any excuse he could to avoid such things, but eventually, the women grew frustrated and irritable.

Those few fleeting relationships didn’t last long - if you could even call them relationships. He didn’t even have romantic feelings for those women - he just went through the motions because he was expected to by society. It was the era of the stereotypical patriarchal household. Of course, you married, settled down, and had kids.

When finding a female partner didn't work out, someone suggested he might be into men, but he knew he was not. Men were fucking vile creatures as far as he was concerned. Thus, he gave up pursuing any relationship of any kind and dedicated his time to other… extracurricular activities.

Alastor groaned, his mind becoming foggy. He couldn’t think straight anymore, as thoughts of aggravation and his past quickly became thoughts of you.

The way your face flushed as you ground your hips against his. The gasp which escaped your beautifully red lips as his static cupped your breasts.

“Ugh,” he whined. Red was definitely your color.

And then there you were on your knees in the dirt, in your cute little red dress with black lace. Alastor wasn’t a religious man, but you in that dress had him practically on his knees the other day. He hated to admit it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you in it, couldn’t stop imagining what it would look like on his bedroom floor…

He imagined you crawling to him across the grass, your eyes locked on his. He imagined you positioning yourself between his legs, licking your red lips at the sight of his cock.

The demon gasped as your hands ghosted up his legs, coming to rest at the base of his inner thighs.

Then you smiled, your canines glowing in the low light, "Mr. Alastor."

He shuttered.

The demon stroked harder, faster with the thoughts of those teeth skimming his shaft, of those red lips wrapped around his cock.

You came closer, crawling over top of him, pushing your breasts into his chest, your ass wiggling in the air behind you. Your eyes, half-lidded, filled with lust and desire, sent a wave of pleasure through him that had him downing raspy breaths of air.

Alastor's head bobbed backward, his entire body shuttering from the build of his climax. His hips instinctively bucked up into his hand as he stroked, his body demanding more, demanding faster, demanding harder.

Oh, Satan’s Mistress, he wanted so badly to ruin that dress with his...

"Uh-uh," you teased, running your hand through his hair, you clamped down, and tugged his head forward, forcing him to look into your eyes. "I didn't say you could cum, yet, now did I?"

Fucking Hell. Alastor whined in protest.

"Beg," you demanded.

Alastor was there, ready, but he wouldn’t - couldn't - not unless you said he could.

"I want to hear you beg for it," something behind your eyes turned dark.

"P...Please," Alastor moaned as he bucked up into his hand. “Please..."

You smirked, using a finger to caress his cheek "Oh, my darling buck, I could never deny you anything."

And Alastor came.

"Fuck," he moaned into the darkness as he spilled his seed all over the ground.

The Radio Demon continued to stroke even after wave after wave spewed from him.

Fuck, there was so much cum.

And when it was over and the lust-filled image of you had faded...

It did nothing to satisfy him - nothing to take the edge off. His magic was still humming beneath his skin, throbbing even. His static reached out, trying desperately to find you, and returned aggravated when it did not. It rolled through his blood, an insatiable itch he couldn't satisfy - almost as if the lack of your very presence had some sort of hold over the demon's magic.

He needed to get out of here. He needed to find a way to burn off all this pent-up… sexual energy. He fixed his pants, his dick still hard as he rebuttoned his trousers.

The Radio Demon forced himself to his feet and melted angrily into shadow.

____________________________________________

This bouquet was so much bigger. So much fucking bigger. And it came with a gift.

“Open it.” Angel leaned over your left shoulder. “Open it.” He switched to your right. “Open it.” Your left. “Open it.” Your right. “Open it.”

“Oh, my God, Angel!” You snapped - but in a cute way. You could never be mad at the spider demon. “If I open it will you please stop?” You chuckled.

“Oh, baby,” Angel wiggled his eyebrows at you. “I will never stop.”

You rolled your eyes, digging into the gift bag.

Of-fucking-course… A cellphone. Vox bought you a cell phone. Angel gasped. You had an unread message, and naturally, it was from the media demon. You spun the phone around for Angel to read.

Angel slapped a hand over his mouth. “Holy shit! We gotta go shoppin’!” He grabbed your elbows and lugged you to your feet.

“Uh,” you put the brakes on hard. “I’m not going on a date with Vox.”

Angel ran his hands down his face, groaning in irritation. “Look, toots.” He crossed his many arms. “We need to 'ave a really honest conversation ‘ere.”

You checked the foyer. It was the middle of the day, and no one was home save for Charlie and Vaggie, who had been locked in the office for hours. You hadn’t seen Alastor since the whole swamp incident… Even Husk was out at the moment. It was just you and Angel, save for Nifty running around killing bugs somewhere. No one saw the flowers getting dropped off except for the spider demon, who just so happened to be leaving his room at the same time you were.

You crossed your arms and collapsed onto the sofa like a small child being chastised by a parent.

Angel turned on his big brother charm and began his lecture. “I know you don’t 'ave a lotta experience with this kinda stuff, but I do. So, ‘ear me out when I say this, I think you’re confused.”

You raised an eyebrow in question.

He sighed, “I get that you were raised in the Church and everythin’, but you’re in Hell now. That whole Damnation bullshit has already run its course, toots. I think, maybe, you should consider broadening your horizons a bit. Go on dates. Kiss a few demons. See how it makes you feel.” He cleared his throat. “Just, try somethin’ new. For my sake?”

Wow. You were not expecting that. Did you really want to do this with Vox? No. Did you want to do anything remotely romantic or sexual? No… Well… No! What happened with Alastor the other night was pure survival instinct. It didn’t matter that you enjoyed it. It didn’t matter that he… well his body’s reaction was quite obvious… Hugely obvious… But you were talking about pure sexual reactions, it didn’t mean anything.

You hated Alastor. It was as simple as that… right?

You bit your lip, smudging your red lipstick. “And if I don’t like it?”

“Then you don’t like it!” He threw his hands into the air. “Look, Hair clip, you got to suck dick to know you don’t like suckin’ dick.”

You snorted into a fit of giggles.

“So, whattya say? Shoppin’ trip?” Angel held out a hand.

You debated a moment, “Actually, Rosie might have something already prepared for me…”

____________________________________________

“It’s all about the confidence, toots. Chin up.” Angel instructed.

You did as you were instructed, although begrudgingly. Taking a deep breath, you raised your chin and strode across the wood. You wobbled, practically falling into the back of the couch for support.

“This is impossible, Angel! I don’t know why Rosie thought this would be a good idea!” You fell into the couch completely, using it as leverage to kick off the red stilettos. “She knows I can’t handle heels this high.”

Angel rolled his eyes, “You just need a bit of practice, that’s all.” He tosses you the new pair of Mary Janes he helped you buy.

“Well, Vox is due any minute,” in the black heels, the train of your black dress drags across the ground, but it would have to do. “I’m out of time.”

“Alastor still doesn’t know?” The spider demon raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him since...”

“Since you fell outta his room on ya’ ass?” Angel filled in for you.

“Yes…” You hid your face.

“Still don’t wanna talk about it, toots?”

“No.” You go for the black clutch, ensuring the new phone is tucked inside. Angel gave you his number just in case. “Besides, who cares if he knows?”

Angel huffed, collecting the red stilettos and following you out front. “Would ya’ care to know that he’s been on a rampage in the Doomsday District since then?”

Your ears perked up. “What?”

“Smiles been goin’ ape shit ova’ there since ya’ did whatever the fuck you did in his room.” Angel pulled a video up on his phone. Alastor's demon form was ripping the place to shreds, eating Sinners, and causing pure chaos. Well you assumed that’s what was happening as the image was extremely grainy and glitchy. Alastor’s image couldn’t be captured on electronics or cameras.

Oh, fuck…

As if on cue, a black limo pulled up. The media demon popped out the back donning a freshly pressed blue suit, a grin plastered across his screen. He had a new hat - red ribbon instead of blue.

A rescue from your Alastor conversation. Thank the Lord.

“Hey, babe!” His eyes raked over your form. “You look fucking hot!”

Your entire body shuttered, immediately collapsing in on yourself. Angel cringed next to you.

Eh, maybe you’d rather keep talking about the Radio Demon.

Rosie had truly outdone herself this time: a floor-length black gown that hugged your curves in all the right places. It was a simple dress with long sleeves and a high back to cover your tattoo. It had a high neckline with a slit on one side. The dress was designed to show off your silhouette as opposed to your cleavage - which you were thankful for. Again, you weren't the biggest fan of girly dresses, but this one allowed you to be feminine while also not making you feel too exposed - which modern feminine-style clothing often did.

You pulled your hair into a bun at the base of your neck, a few strands of bangs curled around your face, barely brushing the tops of your collarbones. You couldn’t take all the credit for the hair or the silver eyeshadow - Angel was the architect of that.

Vox’s eyes flitted between you and the Hotel door. “Shall we?” He laughed awkwardly, a hand out in waiting.

Your eyes found Angel’s, screaming for him to rescue you - make some excuse to get you out of this evening, but he was beaming. He nodded for you to go and watched as Vox whisked you into the limo so fast you didn’t have a chance to grab the train of your dress before the media demon slammed it in the door.

Vox jumped in on the other side and, using a com button on his seat gave directions to a restaurant in the Entertainment District.

God, Rosie will kill you if you ruin this dress after only wearing it for an hour.

“So,” Vox cleared his throat, clearly oblivious to the anxiety playing across your face. “You live at the Hotel…” The demon scooched closer to you.

You crossed your legs, hoping the demon didn’t notice the black velvet stuck in the doorframe. How fucking embarrassing… “Yeah, I just moved actually.”

You didn’t know what to do with your hands as Vox’s leg came to rest against your own. The fabric brushed against your bare thigh - curse Rosie and this slit.

“Why would you want to move there? You don’t seriously think the Princess’s redemption plan will work do you?” He scoffed.

Hell, no.

“I wouldn’t have moved if I didn’t have hope.” You kept your gaze forward, too nervous to glance in his direction. The media demon was in your bubble and you didn’t particularly enjoy his aroma of plastic and cheap cologne.

“Seriously?”

You shot him an irritated look.

“Fine. Fine.” He backed off. “But the company she keeps?”

“The company?” You decide to play dumb.

“The Smiling Freak,” He spat, his screen glitching.

You turned to him then, a soft smile playing out on your face as you tipped your head in feigned confusion. “Who?”

The demon’s screen buffered. “Alastor, the Radio Demon.”

His irritation sparked genuine joy in your chest, but you slammed the mask down over your face so face he didn’t notice. “Oh! The Hotel Manager! Yes, he does always seem chipper, doesn’t he?”

Vox’s screen flashed with a disgruntled look before he changed the subject. “Champagne?”

He went for the mini fridge and pulled out a pink sparkly bottle.

As long as it wasn’t sweet…

The bottle read “Rosé Champagne.”

Great… This was going to be a long night…

____________________________________________

“Babe.”

You spun the glass of wine on its base, watching the liquid dance. It’s been about an hour and a half since you sat down for dinner, and finally, FINALLY, you had finished and were waiting for dessert.

“Babe.”

Why did people even like big, flashy dinners like this? What’s wrong with a perfectly good home-cooked meal AWAY FROM THE LIMELIGHT.

FLASH! Another camera went off in your face. The fucking media had been tailing you since the limo dropped you off out front. How did they even know you were going to be here?

“Babe,” a pair of cold metallic fingers wrapped under your chin and raised your face from your glass. Your heart skipped a beat, your brain not registering the situation before your eyes found Vox’s.

Disappointment swirled in your belly.

“Sorry,” you waved him off. “The wine is making my head a bit fuzzy.”

Not a lie. What glass were you on again?

“As I was saying, Voxtek will combine the two into one, so Sinners can detect who or what is at their front doors.” The demon preached, giving his best spokesman voice he often used on television.

“Ah, huh,” you agreed, ignoring the buzzing in your clutch.

Angel has been hard at work stalking every media news outlet tailing your date with the Overlord. He took to sending you screenshots and comments about every single one. Quite annoying actually.

Your eyes searched the shadows for the hundredth time that night. Yet everything was still. No static prickling your skin, no cold shadows twirling about your ankles. It meant Alastor still didn’t know about your date or didn’t care… Why did that make your chest ache?

“Seems we can make money off of the Soul Scanner after all!”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Wait,” you paused your twirling. “Soul Scanner?”

“Yup!” The demon straightened a little, his sin showing. “Angelic Security’s newest feature!” He whipped out his phone to show you a preview. “It will send notifications directly to your phone anytime it detects a soul in its camera.” He points to the info-graph on the screen. “It even has an Exorcist Angel feature.”

Names. It could detect names.

“That’s the same technology you use to identify the Shadow’s victims.”

Vox beamed, “Yes! It can only register Hell names; however, we haven’t found a way to uncover Christian names - but that’s step two! Want to try?” Vox pulled up an app on his phone and handed it to you.

“Vox of Voxtek Technologies,” the female voice read as you pointed the camera at the demon.

Shit.

“You can track the Shadow’s movements,” the gears behind your eyes begin to turn. “You’re going to use it to uncover his identity.”

“I knew you were a smart one, babe,” the demon collected your hand and pressed a kiss to the top, sending little bolts of electricity dancing across your skin.

As you attempted to calm the quiet panic building inside of you, the demon intertwined his fingers with yours. “And now you!”

“What?”

Before you had a chance to stop him, Vox captured you on the phone’s camera. “Unknown.” The woman’s voice rang. The media demon looked confused before he pushed the button again. “Unknown. Unknown. Unknown.”

“That’s never happened before.”

You laughed awkwardly, anxiety bubbling in your chest. “That’s so strange.” Change the subject. Change the subject. Change the subject! “So, Vox,” you ran your thumb over the back of his hand, pulling his attention away from his phone. “How long have you been an Overlord?”

The demon’s screen buffered, little waves of static running up and down his form. He pushed the interference away, fixing his bowtie to try and cover it up. “Well, since you asked…”

“Voxy!”

Fuck.

Velvette strode up wearing a pink dress so scandalous it made you look like a 16th-century pilgrim. Her hair was done up in a fro, her iconic swirl painted into the side. Gigantic earrings dangled just above her collarbones, sparkling in the candlelight. The swoop in her neckline was low enough to show her belly button, and don’t get you started on the double slit.

The bitch could pull it off, don’t misunderstand, she was gorgeous, but it was Velvette, and you did not like her.

And on her arm…

“Crim?” You gasped.

The Mafia Boss plucked the cigar from his mouth, emptying the ashes into the tray atop your table, before he addressed the group. “I see my reputation precedes me.” He winks at you. The Hell Native had a coat draped over his shoulder, and his iconic fedora sat crooked atop his head. He smelled of smoke and whiskey and GREED.

“Velvette,” Vox laughed, attempting to hide his irritation. “What are you doing here?”

“Dollface is just showin’ me around the joint. Nice place ya’ got here, Mr. Vee.”

Crim you dirty motherfucker!

You hid a clenched fist beneath the table, doing your best to contain the growing irritation bubbling beneath your skin.

The fucker made a deal with you. Granted, it wasn’t a soul contract, but it was a deal nonetheless: Chaz’s death for the card and a bit of cash. That was it. So what the fuck was he doing here with Velvette?

You sniffed, trying to sense their emotions, but Crim’s cigar was too pungent to get a good read.

This wasn’t a coincidence. There are no coincidences. Fucking mosquitoes. They always come back. How could you be so stupid!?

“Well that’s nice…” Vox’s voice trailed off. “I thought you were headed back down after the meeting this morning?”

Meeting!?

“Thought I’d stick around. Check out the joint. Not everyday us Natives get an invitation to the Pride Ring.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. You took a sip of your wine to hide your growing anxiety.

“Mr. Crim was just telling me about a cute little mansion on the edge of town he was thinkin’ bout purchasin',” Velvette added.

You choked, the wine going down the wrong pipe.

The same fuckin’ mansion he arranged your meeting at!? The exact same meeting he met with the Shadow!?

“You okay, babe?” Vox handed you a napkin, which you used to cough into.

Fuck, the Vees are aligning themselves with the Crimson Mafia gang. They couldn’t find any allies with the Overlords of Pride, so they had to go lower - to someone who had dealt with the Shadow before. Was it to solely take on Heaven or the Shadow as well?

Definitely the latter.

What were you going to do? You couldn’t kill Crim. That would be too obvious, the timing too perfect.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I’m good.”

“This is your mysterious Alley Girl, Vox?” Velvette’s eyes narrowed.

Vox nodded.

“Is that one of mine?” the fashion guru asked, her red sclera scrutinizing your dress.

“A Rosie Original, actually,” you smiled.

"Rosie, the tailor?" She raised an eyebrow in question.

"No, Rosie, the Overlord," you corrected.

The demon gritted her teeth. There it was. That got under her skin. She thought oh-so little of the Overlords of Hell, she thought herself above them all - at least, that's what you got out of her attitude at the meeting. And you had guessed correctly.

She smiled, trying to hide her growing irritation. “Right,” She turned back to Vox. “See ya’ later, luv, kisses!” And then she was gone, whisking Crim away to the bar.

When she was well out of earshot, Vox laughed. "Never seen someone shut her up so fast!" The demon grabbed your hand again, his other twirling one of your free-flowing bangs. "Now, where were we?"

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his self-absorbed mantra about the new phone update set to release soon. Honestly, you truly gave it your best shot. Sure, this night started out with a bit of you teasing about Alastor, but afterward, you genuinely did try to get to know him. It just, was hard when everything became about him.

He didn't care about you at all. Which was unexpected, especially after such a declaration in the streets of the Entertainment District. It made you feel like a trophy he wanted to show off, and, when he was done, he put you right back up on the shelf. There you sat until he found it convenient to take you down again.

You meant it as a metaphor when you said you felt like a toy the two Overlords were fighting over. The difference now was that Vox was truly treating you like one.

You took another sip of your wine as dessert was served, your mind once again wandering to the shadows...

____________________________________________

“Thank you,” Vox held the door open for you.

Finally, the night was over. Finally, you could crawl into bed and hide for the next year of your life. Your social meter was in the negatives. You were drained. This had all been just too much.

“No, thank you, babe, for a wonderful evening,” the demon grabbed your hand, his fingers dancing across your skin. The demon fell silent, his eyes turning glassy as they found yours.

You were suddenly very nervous, your stomach fell, your mouth ran dry. “Okay, so good-”

The demon pulled you in, his lips crashing into yours. It was… um… well, you kissed him back - or rather, you tried - but like… it wasn’t…

Vox’s tongue slid over your lips and pushed its way into your mouth. He tasted of static and salted fish.

The demon ran his hands down your back, coming to a stop atop your hips. He used the leverage to pull you closer. Flush against the Overlord, you expected to feel warmth, exhilaration, and desire, but none of that came. In fact, it was quite the opposite. You wanted to run, but not in the same way you wanted to run from Alastor. You wanted to run in a grossed-out sort of way. Like you needed a good bath to scrub off all the ickiness now clinging to you.

The Overlord moaned into your mouth as his lips smacked against yours.

God, it was so wet… Has this man been kissing Hellhounds all his life? Not that you had any experience to go off of. This was your first kiss after all...

You did your best to kiss him back, but it wasn't working out. It was more mashing of lips than it was actual kissing. Is this what people get enjoyment out of? Others made it seem so simple like your lips were just supposed to know what to do. This was just awkward.

Finally, Vox broke the encounter, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Till next time, gorgeous.” He squeezed your ass before letting you go.

And then he was gone…

As the limo pulled away, you felt your feet collapse beneath you. The tears found your cheeks before you realized you were ugly-sobbing on the curb before the Hotel.

Husk found you not long after and brought you inside. He wrapped you in a blanket and sat you at the bar, pouring glass after glass of water before you finally said something.

Shit was this what dating was? Why did people like doing these things? Angel made it sound so fun and enjoyable - this is his area of expertise, after all. "Go out, have a fun time, kiss a few demons - blah, blah, blah." Yeah right. Angel was going to get an earful the next time you saw him.

“Angel still at work?” You mumbled.

Husk nodded.

“And Alastor?” You ask hesitantly, your eyes downcast.

Please don’t be here.

“Busy.”

There it was, that ache in your chest again.

“Good.”

“I take it, it didn’t go well?” Husk asked, pouring himself a glass of water.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you rubbed your face. Your red lipstick and makeup had to be smeared to high Hell by now - Vox was probably wearing half of it. You wetted a napkin and tried to clean up the damage in the reflection of your glass.

Actually, you know what, you did want to talk about it.

“He was just so… so…” you forced your drunken brain to think. “Full of himself! He didn’t shut up once the entire dinner, save for me being able to ask a few questions ABOUT HIMSELF.”

Irritation prickled the flames beneath your skin. “The date was a disaster from the beginning! He ruined my dress - again!" You motion to the tear in the hem of the fabric. “Then he took us to the most famous rooftop bar in the Entertainment District, where a hoard of reporters were lying in wait. He pulled me about them like I was a piece of arm candy! I HATE the limelight, Husk. A definition of a good time for me is a glass of red and a good book in the library - which I haven’t been able to do in forever."

“We sat at the VIP table with people waiting on us every two seconds, I couldn’t breathe with how often people were asking my opinion or bringing me a tiny ass plate of a few mouthfuls of food. I mean twelve courses!? Really!? Also, he ordered dinner for me without my input - fish, Husk, he ordered me fish! I hate fish! And don’t even get me started on dessert - chocolate mousse…. I fucking loathe chocolate."

“At least he had the common courtesy to drop me off at home after. My feet are killing me!” You pulled off your shoes and threw them across the room, sniffling. Taking a deep breath, you bury your head in your hands. “He kissed me, Husk.” A shaky breath. “And it was so, so gross… He was practically licking me.” Your voice cracks as tears stream down your face. “Why are men so fucking vile?”

There's silence for a beat before you feel Husk lay a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, kid.”

God, the last time you cried this hard was when Dad beat the shit out of you…

“Here,” Husk hands you a napkin to dry your eyes and dot your nose.

God, now you truly were a mess.

“Can we just talk about something else? I don’t want to end the night like this…” You sniffle, thoroughly destroying the napkin in a wave of black mascara.

“Uh…” Husk looked uncomfortable.

“Let’s talk about you, Husk.” You offer.

“Nothing much to talk about, kid,” he took a swig of water - how uncharacteristic of the cat.

“Come on. There has to be more to the emotionally damaged barkeep than just pouring drinks,” a sad chuckle escapes your lips.

“I’m not emotionally damaged. Ya’ll think I’m…”

You shot him a dumb look.

“Yeah, okay, whatever…” he takes another swig. “Question for a question?”

You raised an eyebrow, “What, so you can report everything back to Alastor? Yeah, no thank you.”

“Believe it or not kid, there are some things that I keep from the Radio Demon.”

Alastor’s words echo through your mind “... You would be surprised how difficult that barcat can be…”

Maybe not everything would get back to the Overlord - this snob fest certainly will. However, you did need to get closer to Husk, this would be a good opportunity.

“Fine, but I invoke the right to pass.”

“Same.”

“Do you get paid to be here?” You started as he poured you another glass of water.

“Alastor is significantly more… generous regarding his deal-making - for Nifty and me, at least. He has ensured that we are well taken care of. Including a monetary pension.”

Well, you weren't expecting that. You didn’t have much experience making soul deals that resulted in servitude. Any transactions that were made were for your soul’s discrimination and silence. Even the obsidian calling cards had their terms - albeit, cardholders didn’t know this until it was too late. You couldn’t imagine making a soul deal and having to take care of those souls afterward. Seemed like a lot of work.

“How old were you when you died?”

That wasn’t something you thought about.

“Twenty-five. You?”

“Seventy-five.”

You tried to hold back a gasp of surprise, slapping your hand over your mouth. “Husker, you’re an old man!?”

You hadn’t known this from your prior research.

“Was,” he sipped, pointing a finger. “Was an old man.” He narrows his eyes at you, his face turning slightly pink. “Don’t tell Angel.”

You made a cross over your heart with your fingers. “Cross my heart and you know the rest…”

“Okay, Grandpa Husk, what did you do before Alastor came along and ruined your life?”

You already knew the answer.

“He didn’t ruin my life…” The barcat mumbled.

You blinked. “What?”

He takes a long breath, leaning back against the bartop, arms crossed, drink in hand. “I was in a bad spot. He got me out of it.”

“Oh,” you said after a while, drinking the water to fill the awkward silence.

Wait…

“Didn’t you just warn me about how dangerous of a demon he could be?”

“I lost my soul, kid. That isn’t something to take lightly, but when you're down on your luck, you'll turn to anything to keep you afloat… I can't take that back.”

It was the best of the worst situation. You get it.

He looked at you hard, suddenly very serious, “I don’t want that to happen to you, kid.”

Okay, this was getting too much for you. You decide to derail the subject to something a bit lighter. “Tell me about your daughter.”

He chokes on his drink, “How did you know I had a kid?”

Shit. The alcohol was making your brain fuzzy. You slipped up.

Trying to act casual as you thought of something to say. “You have the heart of a girl-dad.”

He narrowed his eyes at your glass. “Have we met before?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Um…”

BAM!

“Can I get some help ova’ ‘ere?” Angel fell into the door leaving blood on the handle behind him. The spider demon collapsed onto the carpet, a dark puddle forming beneath him.

Water went flying across the bartop as you and Husk scrambled over to him. Husk rolled him over and pulled him into his lap - gashes crisscrossed his chest so violently you didn’t know where the blood wasn’t coming from. “What happened!?”

Angel’s breathing was ragged and shallow, “Val…”

Val!? He came all the way from V Tower in this state!?

Husk had a look of pure panic across his face. “Hold on, I got… I got a first aid kit behind the bar…”

“That won’t help…” you breathed.

Looking around, you checked the shadows, ensuring Alastor wasn’t watching.

A gurgle escaped Angel’s throat. The death rattle, they call it.

“We have to… We can… We can fix this…” Husk was hyperventilating now, his eyes wide with shock.

He’s dying.

“He isn’t dying!” Husk argued. You had said it out loud.

Images of Clara drowning in her own blood came flooding back to you. Carmella was screaming… Odette was curled around her sister in a ball of tears. Exorcists flew overhead, their spears glittering in the light. It was a beautiful ballet of chaos.

You willed the memories away.

“Husk,” you grabbed his arm, pulling his attention to you. “I need you to listen to me. Help me get him to my room.”

“What? Why…”

“Just do it!”

You roped your arms under his knees. It took a moment for Husk to comprehend what you were saying before he finally shook his head and followed suit. Quickly, you ran the spider demon up the stairs, a trail of blood following in your wake. Throwing Angel onto the bed, you turned back to the hallway and…

SNAP!

The blood disappeared.

“Wait, how did you…” Husk stood at the side of the bed, looking between you and Angel and the hallway in disbelief.

You locked the door.

Jumping onto the bed, you straddled the spider demon, the slit of your dress bunching up over your hip. Now was not the time for modesty. Rolling up your sleeves, you pulled the hair clip from your hair and held it above your arm. “You DO NOT tell Alastor anything. Do you understand?” You spoke very clearly, hoping the seriousness got through to him.

He didn’t answer, confused and panicked.

“Husk!”

The cat demon blinked. “Yeah!” He screamed. “I got you!”

“Good,” you ran the prongs of the metal clip, sharpened to a point - courtesy of Carmilla Carmine - across your palm. A cut formed, but you quickly shoved it into the spider demon’s mouth before Husk got a better look.

“Come on, come on,” you were covered in blood now, your sheets were ruined. You prayed no one heard the commotion and came running.

Angel was motionless for only a moment before the thrashing started.

“Hold him down!” You screamed at Husk.

The barcat did his best to hold down a set of his arms over his head as Angel thrashed in the sheets.

Slowly, so slowly, the bleeding stopped. Skin and tissue began rethreading itself before your eyes, stitching to form new skin.

Then, the room fell silent. His breathing stilled. His body relaxed.

Angel was okay.

You didn’t hesitate. Jumping from the bed, you dipped your fingers into a puddle of his blood and began to draw runes on the parts of his fur not already soaked in red.

“What the fuck are you doin’?”

“Runes of Healing.” Just in case.

When you were finished you went to the hidden markings about the room - beneath the carpet by the door, above the windows, and under the bed - refreshening their marks.

“Are you mad?”

Finally, above your headboard - for good measure. You jumped back, joining Husk at the foot of your bed as you both admired the work.

“Twenty plus ‘C’ plus ‘M’ plus ‘B’. What the fuck does that mean?” He read aloud.

“Christus mansionem benedicat - Latin for 'may Christ bless this house.'* Mortals use it to keep out the damned. I used it to keep out our household Overlord and his shadow.” You pointed to the “Alastor” written below it.

Your hand hadn’t healed. So you held that one close to your chest.

Angel Dust sighed and turned over on the bed.

Good. That was good.

Husk turned to you expectantly. He crossed his arms, waiting for you to explain.

Fuck, guess it was time…

Pulling an obsidian calling card from the Void, you held it out to the barcat and turned it over. Written in white ink at the bottom, hidden until now, was a name: Bernard Abernathy.

The demon gasped.

“Took me years to get it back.” You shot him a small smile. “I recommend not gambling it away this time.”

“How…” He took the card from you and you watched as a sort of clarity flashed across his eyes. “I remember…” His gaze met yours, a large smile forming across his face.

Using their own blood on the obsidian card entered Sinners into an unknowing contract. Cardholders, should they give up or lose their cards, will forget you completely. Husk had one of your cards from a long time ago… Now that it’s finally returned, he can remember again.

“Hey, Husky,” you smile back.

He brings you into a hug. “Hey, kid,” he mumbles, his chin coming to rest atop your head.

You stand there and hold each other for a long while until a murmur from Angel pulls you away. You had a lot of explaining to do, but it would have to wait.

Drying your eyes, you head to the window. “Get him cleaned up. Don’t let him leave this room. I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” He asks.

SNAP!

Your leather gear and cloak appear. You pull the hood up and open the window, preparing to jump.

For Husk, since he knows who you are, the cloak's magic didn’t work. Strangers couldn’t see beneath the hood nor pull it off you. Many had tried. They all ended up in a pile of ash. But those who knew could do both.

Holding your fist before you, you summon blue flame. “To kill Valentino.”

Dun, dun, dunnnnnn! Yeah, fuck Valentino.

*Wiki Link explaining the C+M+B if you are curious

-> Chapter Eight Coming Soon!

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