#for real I would suspect ulterior motives to their niceness too

[thresholdbb]

Doc’s Family: *is way too nice*

B’Elanna: *narrows eyes*

[jroxpone]

─── ♰ ⚔️ ✨🌹 𐕣 ───

૮꒰˶ •́ ω•̀˶꒱ა つ━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ҉̛ gotta talk about nonsense *ੈ✩‧₊˚ If there ever was a mundane talent for me to have it comes to making absolutely nonsense ships...

-and thus, Rosie x Michael exists living rent free in my head. ✧˖°.

♡ ∩_∩ („• ֊ •„) ♡ |￣U U￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣| | Time to ramble like a lunatic ↓ ￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

Majority of this has to be through speculation with whatever logic can be gleaned. since Michael has not appeared in the show yet its unknown what exactly his personality will entail. So i will just be going off context from the way he is depicted in biblical media. The concept of Michael and Rosie as a couple is a fascinating blend of contrasts and interesting aesthetics. similar in the appeal of Alastor x Lucifer. The union of a magnetic pull of opposites and discovery of similarities and connection. ⁺₊˙ ⌢ ☆˚⭑

Michael, the celestial warrior, stands as a paragon of strength and justice. His role as an angel of war and protector of warriors speaks to his unwavering commitment to the defense of others. as a guardian who understands the value of mercy I'd suspect he also has some underlying softness even if his work requires him to be more vigilant of threats. This duality—fierce in fight, sweet in spirit—makes him a curious figure to utilize. According to Muslim tales, he is amiable and asks God for mercy towards people. which could imply he wouldn't be opposed to the proposed redemption of sinner souls. with mention of his friendliness in stories it wouldn't feel too out of the picture he'd still think fondly of lucifer. being of the first angels and presumably close brothers at some point. so i wouldn't think there would be too much conflict among main cast there. Rosie, by contrast, embodies a more chaotic and unpredictable energy. As an overlord, she is undoubtedly powerful, with a dangerous edge that can be both thrilling and intimidating. Her nature is not merely one of malevolence; it is complex. Rosie's allure lies in her unpredictability. heaven holds a predictability and structure that hell lacks. I imagine to some degree that could weigh on anyone after some time. maybe Michael has some fondness of chaos in nature, like how forest fires break way for new growth. appreciation of the beauty in chaos. -and such as, Rosie fills that allure. She is a force of nature, untamed and unrepentant, offering a wild, yet charming experience to anyone who engages with her. she's very competent and articulate. nice to talk with on extended topics and interests. Even if she is a powerful overlord, she is kind. thought still more than capable of being a threat. there is implication that she has been married several times. this could create a fatigue with romantic relationships with uncertainty about the outcome. especially in hell considering the background of sinners and the potential untruth most would pose, and possible ulterior motives. which in the presence of an angel, wouldn't be so much of a worry. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ For Michael, Rosie represents a departure from the rigidity of celestial duties, an enticing glimpse into something more unkempt. almost like following a sirens song. finding comfort in shadows he was always told to combat. something more real, considering heaven's track record of having a fake image of perfection. plus being able to talk about any uncertain or potential out of pocket topics and concepts might be met with upset. something that wouldn't exist in hell and by proxy within Rosie's presence. Meanwhile, Rosie finds in Michael a steady anchor, a figure with maturity who can appreciate her wild nature without being overwhelmed by it. His capacity for compassion and understanding offers her a sense of security and acceptance that she may rarely encounter in hell and its untrusting nature among citizens. Fashion and style might simply be included in order to provide them with some common interests. Both possessing an innate sense of style, enjoying fashion as a form of self-expression and a medium to project their unique identities. Their conversations are likely rich and varied, filled with sharp wit and keen insights. They might even indulge in gossip, a playful exchange of secrets and opinions that allows them to explore their thoughts and feelings in a more relaxed setting. .☘︎ ݁˖ °˖➴

Plus, on the side. there's the aesthetic of it that I enjoy. swords and roses. Part Michael's depiction is often accompanied by a flaming sword. This coupled with the flowery theme and roses makes for a neat visual I enjoy. Additional reason: idk man its just cute

[away-ward]

I think if Damon was THE villain until the end, the series would have been better. It would start with him being pissed off "that the guys chose Rika over him" and then at the end, he would have to choose between revenge or his friends. Like imagine if in Killswitch he redeemed himself, and start his relationship with Winter, but in the shadows, he was actually still plotting. No one suspects anything, maybe not even the reader.

It's also really funny that Damon is a textbook incel and in highschool Damon would've been an Andrew Tate stan.

Do you think the guys had specific types when it comes to girls they're attracted to ?

Also, I think you would like Rina Kent's books (If you never read them you should start with the Royal Elite School series)

I think their “type” was the only woman who caught their attention. It’s hard to determine because according to the story, they could get any girl they wanted and every girl wanted them (as is the case with book boyfriend out there), but did they have a preference of girl?

Michael liked blondes, but in any regard they’d have to be Attractive. I don't believe he was concerned with spending any time talking to them, so he didn’t particularly care if they were funny or smart or interesting, just if they could consent. This would exclude girls who got too drunk or couldn’t handle the party. He hated drugs, so no one that got high off of anything stronger than weed. No quiet or weird girls who would be a lot of work. Working for it isn't something he was interested in. He would probably be careful of girls who seemed like they were available, but in actually wanted more from him (like a relationship), but this might have been a lesson he had to learn. I think he would be annoyed if he were lining up a girl and she backed out last second. He’d considered it lost night.

Kai is harder. He liked the private rooms at clubs, showing that he can be just as loose as the other guys, just more private about it. Chloe was an actual girlfriend and not just a repeat hook-up, so even as a teenager, he didn't avoid commitment. He's picky, more with character than appearance, though he has high standards for both. Chole was a leggy blonde, but she was also an overachiever and scholar. It's important the people he spends time with can actually hold a conversation, so they'd have to have a working brain, even if it's just for the night. Kai also enjoys the chase, so he'd prefer a girl that wasn't too available, but made him work for it. Banks might have been different, in this regard, that she toyed with him first.

Damon's type is Winter. The end.

But for real, Damon had warped views when it came to sex and relationships that he needed to get over. For most of high school, it was all about what they could do for him, or what he could do to them, so preference wasn't considered. If there was no ulterior motive on the docket for the night, I think he preferred it when the girl shut up and took everything he gave her, and then hated herself a little for it afterward. As long as it's not Arion and the like, Damon didn't think too hard about getting off with a girl.

Publicly, Will liked the girly-girls in make-up and short skirts. The confident girls who probably got in the middle of the action, who wanted attention on them. Who welcomed his attention. After chasing Emory around all day, he'd probably want someone who didn't take a lot of effort or act put out when he smiled at them. Like Michael, he wasn't interested in a lot of deep conversation, but he was nice and tried to keep the mood up. He didn't care if the girl was smart or had a single brain cell, but I think he preferred a girl who was funny or at least quick witted. Nothing was required for him, though. At the end of the night, he wanted to have a good time with a warm body. Still, when the moment came, he made sure not to disappoint. As Alex said, he put in the work.

Is this what you meant??? Let me know.

I have discussed how I wished Damon’s villain and redemption arc had carried out through to the end of the series, but I’ve never thought about him attempting to betray them a second time. That’s a very interesting idea.

And it’s a really good idea to have him have to choose between his revenge and his friends, if at the end of Nightfall when we think all the guys are on the same side and their inter-personal problems have been resolved so that only their external problems remain, and then Damon pulls off his figurative mask like “Hello! I’m still evil!” That would be funny. But also interesting if after Trevor died, Damon started working with Evans to pull this off, and then he had to make the final decision: does he go with Evans or Michael, or forget the Crists' all together and try to take Thunder Bay for himself?

I don’t know if I would have called him an incel. He seems to have preference for women who are passionate and fight for themselves, instead of ones who are submissive and only follow the orders of a man. He may have acted like that’s what he wanted in high school, but I think he always knew that he hated the demure and submissive girls. It's why he never went after Arion. Maybe my definition is wrong.

And I have tried a few of Rina Kent’s books; started mostly, finished some. But I can’t remember which ones. I want to say the one I finished* is from her newer series, which was the descendants from her earlier two series??? I could also be getting her confused with another author though. Sorry. I’ll see if I can find the chance to list the authors/series I’ve touched base with to satisfy some curiosity. Though, I promise I won’t be able to discuss any of those the way I discuss DN. I just don’t have any thoughts after I close the cover. DN really is an anomaly for me.

Thanks for your patience in me getting back to you! Hope you're having a good day, wherever you are.

*or got close to finishing; with books like these, I usually end up DNFing as soon as the third act breakup starts or whatever it is that’s going to cause them to separate. Unless it’s really interesting. As far as I’m concerned, they’re in love and I’m happy to move on.

[scrapyardboyfriends]

Cause I can’t help myself, I’m thinking about how this whole nonsensical Caleb story and whodunnit could have been done better. 

I think the biggest problem with this whole thing has been the pacing. 

Now you have to also imagine that we didn’t immediately suspect that every character coming in has some hidden objective because it’s the only thing these people know how to do and they think it’s so great every time (it’s not). 

But I just feel like if they had let Caleb settle into the village after the whole Cain/Kyle thing, have people let their guard down about that ulterior motive. Let him genuinely bond with Cain and Chas. Let him actually date Leyla. Instead of having him randomly sleep with her when she thought Callum was stalking her just so they could do the Nicky reveal, they could have had him drive by Leyla while she was buying the drugs from Callum in the first place. Give him some kind of savior complex, which would fit with what he did for Cain and Kyle. Maybe it’s always easier to fix other people’s problems than his own. have him check in on Leyla while she’s contemplating taking the drugs instead of stupid Jacob. Skipped the whole knifing fiasco that was dumb anyway. Used the situation to let Caleb form a real connection with Leyla with ultimately real feelings. Used that relationship to allow Caleb to reveal some details about his life. We could find out about his childhood a bit more (could do that with Cain and Chas too). We could find out about his wife and that he’s separated from her, that he has children he’s not exactly close with, which he does regret. 

Then we could have him be looking for work opportunities in the village so he can stick around for these new relationships he’s forming and because he’s a rich business guy, he of course naturally ends up trying to work with Kim. He doesn’t have to be so obvious about his revenge plan. We shouldn’t even have that much of an inkling yet. I would still have him be forced to get Moira to sell her farm for the land, but not necessarily because he fucked up. Maybe that was the plan all along or something. I’d have things start going wrong on the farm but we don’t have any idea it’s Caleb behind them yet. I’d have him still encourage her to sell and actually have the sale go through. Let this plot point finally change Moira’s status quo. Let her leave the farming life behind because all they seem to be able to do is have her have plot trouble very few months and then it never amounts to anything. And then Caleb, nice brother in law, could get her a job at the stud farm and he could try and use that as his justification later on that at least he did that for her. And they’re actually probably better off financially now that with the farming. 

On the Nicky side, they could have taken their time with the Gabby and Nicky relationship more. And I would have also brought Ally in sooner. Had them have been friends before that seemed like they might be heading towards a relationship but hadn’t gotten there yet. Have him be Nicky’s friend for a little bit and then the relationship does end up happening. But he’s still trying to make this relationship work with Gabby, which he could tell Ally was because of pressure from his dad, we just don’t know who his dad is yet. So then we could actually see some real relationship development with Ally and see the toll it’s taking on him, trying to make things work with Gabby. He and Caleb could eventually have some awkward interactions at Home Farm while Caleb is up there but not make it as obvious. Just have Caleb use him in Home Farm politics against Will, who he could still kind of hate. 

Then Nicky still ultimately can’t go through with the wedding, which could happen much later. The wedding not going ahead could still be bad for the plan but the chaos up at Home Farm does give Caleb the opportunity to move some of Kim’s money, which obviously makes her start paying a lot more attention and eventually she catches Caleb out and we get the big reveal, but not the Nicky part yet because he’s sort of run off. Maybe we saw Caleb on the phone to someone at some point yelling at them for messing with the plan. 

I would have Caleb’s info source not be Graham cause that’s boring. I’d use this as an opportunity to bring in more Tate’s to Home Farm to make things more interesting especially since Claire King can’t film as much anymore anyway. So maybe Caleb is working with a recast Joe Tate and Jean too and Kim is genuinely caught off guard and actually in financial trouble. 

So now when we get to the whodunnit, we have people who are genuinely upset with Caleb. Moira legitimately lost her business, which would piss off her and Cain. Kim and Will would genuinely be in trouble and upset. Leyla would have had a way more developed relationship with Caleb and feel way more betrayed. I would leave Mack out of it because that whole Charity one night stand detour was dumb and super plotty. And then you could still have it be Nicky that comes back and pushes him. Maybe he’s slunk back into the village again to meet with Caleb, he just didn’t realize all this was going down at the same time and so he’s just kind of a bystander to the whole pub debacle and you don’t think much of it. 

There could be legitimate evidence of a struggle and that Caleb was pushed and ultimately in a flashback episode we could see that everyone got close to that ridge or did talk with Caleb again but ultimately it ends up being Nicky and that is when we finally get the Nicky is Caleb’s son reveal and everything starts to really fall into place and it actually feels like a genuinely shocking reveal. But Caleb can’t hurt his son anymore than he already has, so he tells the police it was Will who pushed him and uses that as leverage to get himself and Joe and Jean and Nicky in at Home Farm properly. And all of this really shakes up the status quo at Home Farm and makes use of those 11 bedrooms and gives us a true new Tate dynasty. 

[moon-catto]

Wondering about Gojo's having a super introverted S/O

Because I'm really suck at socializing with people in real life. I'm literally stuttering even when I'm trying to say a simple good morning like bruh, twenty one years of living and suffering and this is what I've become? I'm beyond disappointed with my life. My ten year old nephew is having a better social life than me smh 😒

Warning: hurt/comfort. Mention of panic attacks, trust issues and insecurities.

Masterlist

The first time Gojo realized he likes you is when he talked to you. And by talking i mean a lot.

You're more of a listener rather than a speaker. You love hearing stories from people and Gojo never bored you, always fascinated you when he talks about the curse he fought earlier, this new dessert shop, and a stray cat that looked a lot like Megumi.

He always like to talk too much, so he's afraid he annoyed you but he found you listening to him so attentively, paying attention at the little things he mentioned. You even remembered and bought the spesific flavor of kikufuku he liked or how he doesn't like the crust of the bread.

And his heart skipped a beat whenever your eyes gazes at him with so much attention and when you laugh at something he said, it just made his day. Oh wow, it's actually nice when someone appreciated you like this. He thought. So he did the same to you.

Listening to your small stories and taking notes on what you like then proceeds to buy it the next day.

Anyway, Gojo who is a pure extrovert and loud 24/7 is having a crush on an awkward bean like you and me is something you would never expected, like ever.

So it's safe to say that you're confused as to why this tall and fine 😫 ass paint brush is suddenly flirting with you so shamelessly while desperately asking you on a date that he almost cried. Just kidding, he cried on his way home though lmaoooo

You're having a crisis on this because sir??? Are you blind? What made you even fall in love with me? I'm literally an invisible wallflower??

It's basically you're overthinking this and suspect he might've had some ulterior motives behind all of his questionable actions. Maybe you read too many wattpads and think he placed some bet on you with some rich ass kids or something.

Cause ahem, trust issues and our beloved ✨insecurities✨. Honestly, same tho.

So it's like a chase between you and him. You dodging his advances to save your heart and him suffering inside because you broke his heart daily.

Like gurl, he wanna scream his love to you so badly like how can you be so dense?? He have this heart eyes shooting at you everytime you showed in his range of vicinity.

He's thinking about showing in front of your house in the middle of the night with I LOVE YOU SO MUCH Y/N I SWEAR in a ridiculously big board written with those bright neon lights and glow in the dark pen.

But then you would think he meant it for someone else and he's back home sobbing after breaking the board into half.

You made him overthinking this too. He's thinking about so many strategies to gently approach you and gain a bit of your trust.

Because if he thinks about it, it's sad that you're that distrustful about the idea of him loving you. More like, you're scared that he actually loves you. It made his heart crushed further.

So he's determined to get closer to you and made you comfortable with him.

He asked Nanami for advices.

And Mei-Mei to give you gifts you like.

So when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he changed his outfits five times.

Used one hour to decide which perfume he used today and thinking is it fine to propose marriage to you on the first date or not.

Of course he decided not to after Nanami deadass screamed NO, YOU DUMBASS when he called him. tHanK gOD.

Anyway, you both dine at a fine restaurant and the date went smoothly until he confessed.

And the crowd goes wild!

They're cheering on you and he had no idea that it pressured you inside.

I have this nasty experience and i feel so nauseous, i just ran from the crowd because everything feels so stuffy.

So you did the same.

"I'm- i'm sorry..."

He watched in horror as your face turned pale and your fingertips trembling on the table before storming off.

And the crowd goes "Oh.... 😧"

Oh he fucked up badly.

He chased after you with his heart practically jumping out of his chest at the thought of he might've scared you with his sudden confession.

"Stupid Satoru!" He scolded himself when he saw you leaning on the fence of the basketball field(?) cause it's empty at night? (Right?)

"Y/N..." He's at the verge of tears when you looked at him with glassy eyes.

He's hesitant to reach you, fear that he might scare you further.

And you're feeling guilty when he showed up with messy appearance. Hair sticking out everywhere, clothes crinkled, and his shades is a bit crooked on one side.

"S-sorry, i-"

"No, no. " He cut you off gently. "I'm the one who's sorry, i have no idea that i was pressuring you." He sighed and blinked several times to prevent his tears from gliding over his face—he looked pathetic and pathetic he is, because not only he failed to impress you, he's also scaring you with his self-proclaimed perfectly made date plan.

"I'm so fucking sorry... " In the end he can't contain his own worry so he cried :(

And that's when you realized that he's actually genuinely have feelings for you.

So you hesitantly coming towards him, wiping his tears with your trembling palms.

"D-dont cry... " Your voice cracked at the perfect timing /sarcastic.

Ah, you just made him cry louder.

Anyway that's how your first date ended with both of you chilling in the ice cream parlor nearby with puffy eyes and stuffy nose.

It was truly an unforgettable memory.

After that day, he thought he lost his chance with you forever.

But you surprised him by saying yes after some days.

And he cried. Again.

Boi, he becomes a crybaby whenever he's with you.

He can't help it, you turn him into a softie now.

So take responsibility he said >:(

It's a new relationship with new challenges and uncertainties ahead of you.

But with him beside you, you think you can go through it all.

Damn these midnight thoughts put tears on my eyes. This should've been a bit longer but i will post the rest at part two :3

Masterlist

[mittelfrank-divas]

So, I’ve been thinking about how much Edelgard was planning to socialize when she came to Garreg Mach. Like, specifically that first month or two. My guess is she was trying to Not Get Attached™, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that she would ignore everyone. Did she accept invitations to lunch or small gatherings? Did she think that hanging out with others (outside of the minimum care and involvement required for being a model house leader) was something she just didn’t have time for because of her other plans? Obviously, as things go along, Edelgard ends up becoming real friends with a lot of her classmates, no matter what her original plans were. But before she really gets to know anyone in those early days of the school year… how would she have proceeded? (Also Byleth is, of course, a special case to all this.)

I was wondering if you have any thoughts on the matter?

I think Edelgard definitely initially had a Don't Get Attached plan in the back of her mind. But at the same time, I think Edelgard has genuinely never experienced what it is to have a social life before. She's never had people just... invite her to tea, without some ulterior motive. She's never had a get-together that was just for fun.

So I think she might have actually been blindsided with the entire concept of being invited to hang out. I don't think she planned what she would do if she was invited to socialize because she had absolutely no frame of reference for it.

It's more like Dorothea said "hey Edie, want to take a walk with us down to the gardens after class?" And Edelgard thought "yes of course it is tactically sound for us to expand upon our studies immediately after class."

Little did she suspect that they were just going to gossip.

And that's how her classmates got her, because after much confusion and intense discomfort on Edelgard's part, she was forced to admit that she does indeed have an opinion on the new professor's hair and that tea does taste better when you're not too busy to enjoy it and that it really is very nice to eat sweet buns with somebody else who appreciates them too (as Hubert sulks in the corner with his pickled herring).

Edelgard planned not to get attached but she never accounted for how attachment can happen when not everything is about politics.

[leviiattacks]

Head canons for mafia boss levi being interested in Starbucks barista reader please

note :: this idea is so cute i wrote a scenario i hope you don’t mind. i can still post some headcanons for it too if you really want me to! i’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted me to write anon :-( ALSO this is super casual writing it’s not like the way i usually write it’s just bullet points i mean idk i wanted to try something different and more relaxed lmk if this style is okay for some requests :D

if anyone would like any more requests with this levi please lmk!! i could go in more detail tbh maybe the pacing of this isn’t too good bc it is a short request but yeahhh

+ idk why the formatting looks so odd i tried my best to fix it myself ?!.!/!:£:& but yeah sorry again!!

levi has always been one to keep his business meetings lowkey

i mean, realistically who is going to suspect mafia boss levi is lingering in a starbucks???

the place is well-suited for his hushed meetings, he finds it to be quiet enough and clean enough

but then one winter everything changes

you start working there

he’s waiting in the queue texting erwin asking when he’ll be able to get there

it’s been a RUSH and the traffic is crazy as expected from the bustling city so he doesn’t expect to see erwin for a while

that’s when he hears you for the first time

“HEY!! Mister in the fancy suit it’s your turn to order”

your hands are placed on the counter and you lean forward eagerly waiting for what he has to say

levi rolls his eyes because he thinks you have to be ogling his designer watch and shoes (you really aren’t)

“black tea, no sugar and... a cinnamon swirl” he’ll order for erwin later. “i’ll be eating in.”

“ooohhh you’re a tea guy? name?” you’re smiling at him radiantly and it irks him because you have nothing to be smiling about really

eyes narrowing he responds “no shit, i just ordered tea.”

“and why the hell do you want my name?” he snaps on reflex

he then remembers he’s at a starbucks and you are not interrogating him, you’re doing your job

“sir... this is starbucks?? is this your first time here?”

you blink in confusion but then your face lights up “oh my, would you like to sign up for a starbucks card?? you can collect stars and get rewards and it’s so muc–“

“do i look like i need a starbucks card?”

“everyone looks like they need a starbucks card”

he doesn’t carry on that part of your conversation instead he looks you dead in the eyes “levi, is my name.”

his glare intimidates you and you awkwardly laugh

you think he’s probably having a super bad day and choose to not bother him that much

as he’s waiting he sees the way you clumsily navigate behind the counter, you’re juggling a number of things in your arms

automatically his face sours

he’s not expecting the tea you produce to be any good

he doesn’t care how nice you are if you can’t do what he wants he won’t be leaving a tip

he’s stingy like that

a clatter is heard and all the noise you’re making just makes you all the more aggravating

he’s been coming here for years and never has encountered a barista as bothersome as yourself

at some point you call out the name “SCROOGE!” from behind the counter, levi finds it embarrassing that anyone would ever call their child that

like... out of all the names this is what they choose??

damn they have to hate parenthood

“scrooge i’m begging you collect your drink.”

he looks up pissed that whoever this scrooge is has the audacity to hold you up because that by default means they are holding him up

then he sees you staring directly at him with that warm smile again

yeah, that smile, it could thaw ice

then it settles.

he’s scrooge?

turning around he notices no one is behind him then he sees that no one else is waiting apart from him

jaw clenching he heads towards you and makes it a point to “tsk” in frustration

he takes his cup and his cinnamon roll and you wave him goodbye

usually levi prefers to silently sit in the booth furthest from the action, he wants no attention drawn to him at all

but that day he finds himself sitting closer to the counter

he’s kind of stunned when he does that because he’s just sat there thinking why the hell did i just do that?? why did i sit here??

but he convinces himself it’s because he wants to see erwin when he’s about to walk in so he can prepare to scold him for not arriving on time

he takes a sip of his beverage expecting nothing above mediocirty but weirdly, your brew, it tastes perfect

levi’s eyes linger on you and he notices the way your behaviour is consistent

you’re helping an old woman pick what she’d like from the menu

you compliment her jumper, says it really makes her blue eyes stand out

you don’t have to be as nice as you are and it’s ticking him off

it ticks him off seeing someone so pure and sweet for no reason

when did people decide to not have ulterior motives anymore? did you decide those were too old school for you?

tongue poking at the inside of his cheek he activates his poker face and looks away

you, are a random person. a random, annoying person. he is going to stop thinking about you.

turning his attention to erwin instead he calls him and when he picks up levi makes his point very clear

“i was just called scrooge. get the hell here so i can order for you.”

erwin chuckles, his throaty laugh makes levi’s mouth twitch downwards in irritation

“and who exactly called you scrooge?”

“is that relevant?”

“very much so if you’ve mentioned it yourself”

levi is silent and erwin laughs once again at his colleagues anti social way of interacting

“i’ll be there in five, feel free to order.”

grunting a sound of approval levi hangs up

“you’re back! how may i help?”

the way you treat being a barista so seriously, he finds it oddly endearing

“one doubleshot iced coffee.”

nodding to yourself you hum a tune happily and get to work

ever since that day levi finds himself frequenting that specific starbucks more

at first it’s a whole lot of “i’m pissed and i don’t have a reason so i’ll go down there and have her annoy me, then i’ll have a real reason”

then you talk to him more and you both engage in small talk

then it develops when he doesn’t mean for it to

you tell him about what you study, where you’re from, how your mother has recently developed arthritis but she’s still so determined to cook to the best of her abilities despite the pain

that reminds him of you

each visit he learns something new about you

sometimes he’ll let you in on his life

“what do you work as, i’ve always wondered?“

“accountant.“ no way in hell is he going to scare you away, telling you isn’t an option

you burst out in laughter holding your knees

“accountancy is well paying what is your point...?”

“do you not know what that means” your laugh is muffled as you press the sleeve of your jumper against your mouth

he shakes his head completely clueless

“people say their accountants when they’re actually strippers. it’s a tiktok thing.”

you pause for a second staring at his face

he feels the way his ears grow red under your gaze but he ignores it looking as bored as ever

“ah well. i did not know that.”

“clearly not you are an old man.”

then you turn away to brew his tea and he lets the ghost of a smile sneak its way onto his face

you aren’t looking, it’s okay

but he knows it’s dangerous getting attached to you

it’s stupid relaxing

and it’s even worse loosening up

so he doesn’t.

he’s always cold, bitter and frigid in his responses as he’s always been with you

but that doesn’t stop you from kindly smiling

or absentmindedly brushing the surface of his skin on rare occasions

it doesn’t stop you from calling him scrooge

and it certainly doesn’t stop you from slowly thawing the frosty exterior of his heart

then one day you let the words “my scrooge” slip out of your mouth

he doesn’t know why he let’s it happen or even how it happens exactly but he can’t help the smile that makes itself evident on his face

“HEY YOU JUST SMILED HELLO?????? you can do THAT????”

he smiled in front of you, that’s it he’s fucked

he quickly drops it and is back to his normal narrowed glare

“i did no such thing”

you give him a knowing look but sigh airily there’s no point in getting the man to admit it

“what would you like today, a frappe?”

you ask the sarcastic question even though you know he hates change. his usual order is already ingrained in your mind. you know it off by heart

he sighs in exasperation

“is your memory really that bad?”

“nope. cinnamon rolls and black tea it is!”

[ichika27]

OnS Chapter 109

This is the last chapter for this year. I can’t believe I’m now reading this monthly since I used to go on months without doing so and just catching up with what’s available after a while. It’s pretty fun although I do miss the scanlations since the official translations from mangaplus took away Yuu’s “Yuu-chan” nickname. I don’t care what others think, to me it’s important. :P

Anyways, the end is long and rambly - just a warning.

With the 1st Progenitor gone, everyone can now focus on the alarming thing around them and so Yuu asks what and why angels are here... in his mind. Not gonna lie, I nearly forgot that they’re still in a “memory world” with all the stuff happening. Anyways, Mika tells him that he doesn’t know but the answer probably lies somewhere in Yuu’s memories.

Since we started in Mika’s mental world then travelled to Yuu’s, Yuu asked Mika how he knew that the angels are from Yuu’s mind. Mika explains that he was also able to devour many of Yuu’s memories which let him remember his own. They’re a bit jumbled so it’s hard to tell which memory belongs to who exactly.

It seems not all is confusing though. Mika says he now sees both POVs from him and Yuu if they both had the same memory. I guess the two of them being almost always together back in the day paid off. I’m happy Mika remembers now cause the other demons (like Ashera but I’m not sure about Noya) took a while to remember stuff but knowing it comes with this confusion is kinda sad. I watched Baccano years ago and this just reminds me of poor Czeslaw’s predicament.

Oh... he now also has memories of Yuu when they were separated. He sees Yuu as a kid trying so hard to train to kill vampires and also Yuu feeling terrible cause everyone from the orphanage died. Guren was there to convince him to live even if it's for revenge. This is kinda sad, honestly cause when Mika and Yuu were separated, Mika probably had many thoughts and worries of how Yuu must’ve been living his life outside and now he could see them.

As much as he hates Guren, Mika now understands why Yuu trusts and cares about the guy so much but of course, it doesn't mean Mika isn't thinking twice about it as Guren is suspicious after all.

Personally, I kinda hate? Dislike? Guren as well but I do get it too though. In fact I think realizing Guren was the one who supported Yuu all those years makes every suspicion and revelation harder to take in.

Anyways, since the 1st Progenitor escaped and there's nothing they could do about the creepy angels, the group decided to finally head back to the real world. Yuu thanks his friends for coming to his aid. So nice! Mika also says he can manifest outside, too so they could all join the others.

Before they leave, Mika scolds Yuu for being suicidal although he says he does understand where Yuu is coming from. Yuu says it's okay now cause he's alive and he got to meet Mika again. Mika don't lie, you probably felt that way, too while in Sanguinem on your own.

If he didn't know Yuu was alive, Mika probably wouldn't have wanted to survive either. They lived for each other in their own ways - Mika lived with guilt and self-hatred with the vampires hoping to see and be with Yuu-chan again while Yuu trained and gave it his all because he wanted to avenge everyone he lost especially Mika.

Mika finally tells Yuu that he knows and appreciates what Guren has done for them both and that he would thank Guren next time they meet. Deep inside though, Mika still suspects Guren of ill intent as he knows the man has ulterior motives for it. That said, while I like Krul better, she too probably has ulterior motives for letting Mika live. With this is another similarity between Yuu and Mika as Yuu himself decided to count Krul as a comrade after knowing that she saved Mika. Mika still got a lot of questions that he knows they'd have to figure out within Yuu's memories but that’s for later.

Awwww.... you're doing this to me now? They're back together and they would protect each other again. This makes me so happy! (>///<)

Ferid and Crowley! It's been a while! See the stuff Ferid is saying on the speech bubbles? The bastard is making his own running sfx... for Crowley, of course! Who else is there to hear it? Crowley doesn't get why he needs to do that and neither do I! I dunno if this is really just how Ferid is or if his time getting burnt alive in the sun is catching up to him.

Jokes aside, I’m glad they’re getting screentime again cause who knows what they’re up to.

The two finally realizes that the 1st Progenitor has been captured. Crowley wonders whose plan is actually in motion right now and I can relate. After all the backstabbing and secret agendas, who knows who is at which side and why? Only the author knows...

This scene is probably happening the same time as when the 1st Progenitor got pulled out of the memory world by Rigr and Urd since Ferid and Crowley suddenly felt that the 1st got caught. I like how it’s implied it’s all happening simultaneously.

Yuu is back! Mahiru points out Guren seems happy that Yuu is okay (Guren probably did end up caring for Yuu after all like how Krul cares about Mika) and the girls are happy to see Yuu. Especially Shinoa.

Oh man, I don't know how to feel about what could seem like a start to some kinda love triangle drama. I mean, I kinda already have an idea who the author would let win so I guess I'll just have to brace myself starting now.

Meanwhile, here's the continuing the verbal confrontation between the 1st Progenitor and his vampire "children". Rigr is happy that his plan had worked but Sika Madu asks if this was all it because he could feel something else is up. The 1st then asks how many sinful keys (those black cross things from fallen Seraphs) Rirg has on hand because he knows someone else has them - someone who could be dangerous and can destroy the world.

Cue Ferid with his own sinful key. The 1st realizes that it wasn't just them playing this game and that they overlooked some others who could end up being a dangerous third party.

The 1st Progenitor had made his move and so had Rigr. Now it seems it's Ferid and Guren's turn. This series isn't just gonna toy with my heart, it's gonna do it to my brain, too.

--

First of all, I’m so happy with all the moment between Mika and Yuu. While I was happy with their actual reunion many volumes ago, I don’t think they’ve really discussed much about those 4 years they were separated from each other (there is an ongoing war so there really wasn’t any time) but this at least lets them talk about it a bit. Mika could now see many of Yuu’s memories and so he doesn’t really have to ask for specifics and doesn’t have to make a lot of assumptions anymore. They will also have to dig in through Yuu’s memories and maybe even his own to answer many questions and while it will happen later, I’m happy it may mean they get to understand each other more.

Okay uh, I’m gonna say some of my thoughts on Guren. I really liked his character back in the day when the anime was airing. I’m a MikaYuu fan so most fics I read are for that ship so I’m not sure about others but in MikaYuu fics, Guren is usually given the father-figure role for Yuu which meant he’s almost always trustworthy. And then the manga revelations happened and I don’t think I’m the only one who got confused as to how to feel about Guren now. His character is a complicated one and I have been wanting to put all my thoughts of it in a post but chapter after chapter with bits and pieces revealed, it never felt like it’s the time yet. I might not 100% like Guren anymore but I don’t hate that he exist. He’s an interesting character and I wouldn’t have felt this complicated about him had he not been one.

Ferid on the other hand has always been painted as antagonistic or at least, he is shown to be a not good person at all from the start. I hated him right from the beginning of the series that at this point, there’s no way to go but up and I find him entertaining when he shows something other than being a creepy bad guy.

On the subject of ships: MikaYuu vs Yuu/Noa ship war had been going on for years (oh so many agonizing years and was the first time I’ve seen people adamantly demonize and insult those they deem “incest shippers”) but the fact that the series isn’t focused on romance meant I would mostly only see the actual war on the fandom spaces. But now Shinoa has admitted to herself her feelings for Yuu and depending on your interpretation, Mika had also admitted his feelings by telling Yuu he loves him before he “died”. Canon is going to delve on the shipping parts soon and I guess it’d be harder for me to ignore the things I don’t like. I mentioned before that since OnS is a shounen manga running in a shounen mag, YuuNoa has a higher chance of becoming canon so the fact that more and more scenes for it’s buildup might come is making me uncomfortable now haha. I’m not planning to go anywhere though so I’d have to hold on and continue to read.

I’ve had a lot of ships that ended up not being canon before and if MikaYuu doesn’t end up canon (which is likely), then that’s just another ship to add to the pile. I’ve never stopped loving the fanon OTPs I have and MikaYuu is one of my top OTPs so regardless of result, I’ll still stick to it anyways.

Okay, back to the plot, I have... questions, I guess?

Guren and Ferid are in cahoots as revealed ages ago. Mahiru also knows about it.

Mahiru had spoken to and have planned stuff with Krul as shown in the flashbacks. Recent chapters show Guren is also in on this.

Ferid and Krul... aren’t on the same side though? Ferid seem suspicious of Krul back at the beginning in regards to the Hyakuya orphans and at the end of season 2 he (and Crowley) attacks, incapacitates and as shown in the manga, had Krul locked up. It wasn’t for show either as Krul is pissed about it. What does this mean? Are Guren and Mahiru using (dunno what other word to use here) those two separately? I’m confused.

And we haven’t even tackled Guren’s relations in the JIDA. Shinya still has no clue about all this, his own demon is on the 1st Progenitor’s side, and now he’s been captured by the 2nd Progenitors.

God, I wish there’s a season 3 of the anime cause the fans who had only watched the anime deserve to see this amazing mess lol. I thought they’d be giving us answers now but they gave us more questions. I’m excited though.

Next chapter comes out in 2022 lol. Ah, another year coming!! Advanced Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to those reading this by the way.

[prouvaireafterdark]

See Something You Like? - Malex Sex Shop AU Part 1/2

It’s FINALLY here: the Malex Sex Shop AU you’ve all been waiting for! Well, the first half anyway (Part Two will be out soon!)

I dedicate this fic to my friendly neighborhood Thigh Riding Anon™️, who inspired this fic with her galaxy brain prompt, and all of you who have been patiently waiting for me to finish this absolute monster of a smut fic. I hope you enjoy it! 💜😘

Also on AO3!

***

When Michael moved to California to start his PhD in agricultural engineering, he’d grossly underestimated how expensive the move would be. The stipend that came with his teaching assistantship just barely covers the rent on his studio apartment, and finding a roommate off Craigslist that’s desperate enough to live in such close quarters isn’t exactly an option considering how many alien skeletons Michael’s got in his closet. The vegetables he’s planning on growing in his complex’s shared community garden will help, but if he wants to eat any time soon he’s gonna have to find a part time job.

Enter Jackie and Kris, the delightful middle-aged lesbian couple who live next door and share Michael’s enthusiasm for sustainable gardening and the occasional midnight smoke.

They get to talking one night while passing a bong back and forth over the railing that divides their balconies, first about DIY organic fertilizer and then about Michael’s degree. He lets spill in a moment of weakness that his coursework is a breeze, but he’s worried he’ll run out of money before he can finish the program. As embarrassed as he is about the confession, it ends up saving his life.

Turns out, Jackie and Kris own a sex shop named Pandora’s Box around the corner and have been looking for some help running the storefront while they focus on expanding their online business and organizing safe sex workshops for the local queer and BDSM communities. The hours would be flexible around Michael’s schedule and all they really would need him to do is stand behind the register, ring people up, and answer questions about their products with “affability and professionalism.”

It’s maybe not the work he imagined himself doing when he moved to California for grad school, but for $15/hr, Michael really can’t afford to say no. He sits for an official interview the very next day and leaves Jackie’s home office with a new job and a pot brownie wrapped in tin foil, eager to get started on both.

Monday afternoons at Pandora's Box are the best. They’re notoriously slow so Michael gets to work his shift alone, which gives him ample time to grade the assignments he procrastinated on all weekend while he sits behind the counter.

It’s a Monday afternoon, in fact, about a year and a half later, when Michael hears the bell above the door chime softly to announce the arrival of a customer who would change his life forever.

The first thing Michael notices when he lifts his head from the stack of exams on the counter is the black leather jacket that’s stretched across the man’s broad shoulders. When Michael’s eyes flick up to get a look at the man’s face, he’s met with sharp cheekbones, beautifully tan skin, and a pair of trendy but understated sunglasses. He looks a little lost—unsurprising, since Michael’s certain he would have remembered it if he’d ever seen a man that pretty walk into his shop before—but when he realizes Michael’s looking at him, he flips his sunglasses up onto his artfully messy dark hair and smiles.

And oh, what a smile it is—the most beautiful one Michael has ever seen, soft and sweeter that it has any right to be, his full lips capturing Michael’s attention with ease. His heart pounds in his chest as their eyes lock together, and if Michael didn’t know any better, he’d think he’s just fallen in love with a perfect stranger.

Before Michael can do more than shoot him a dazed smile in return, the man disappears down an aisle.

As a general rule, Michael doesn’t talk to customers who don’t approach him for help first. It’s best practice in a store that sells pornography and sex toys—most customers don’t want to be questioned about their kinks, and those that do usually already know what they’re looking for—but the pull he feels toward this man is undeniable. He’s curious about him for reasons he can’t explain, and as his feet carry him off in the direction the man went, Michael decides not to question it.

Michael weaves casually through the aisles until he finds the man staring up at the floor to ceiling wall display of dildos and other anal toys—because of course he does. He sends a prayer to a god he doesn’t believe in that this man isn’t buying something for his girlfriend before he steps in line beside him.

“See something you like?” Michael asks, toning down his customer service voice into something approaching normal human speech.

Up close, he can see the man has a septum piercing, which glints a little in the light. Michael’s seen plenty of people with body jewelry come through this store, but he’s never really thought of it as cute until now.

The man smiles at him, a little shy, but Michael’s not so distracted this time that he misses the way his eyes flick over his body in naked interest, and it leaves him feeling a little hot under the collar.

“I’m not sure yet,” the stranger answers.

Even his voice is nice, Michael notes, deeper than he expects and smooth like honey.

Michael nods in understanding. He gets it—this wall can certainly be intimidating, even for someone who’s been to a sex shop before. He looks the man over again, taking in his charmingly flushed cheeks, and wonders if it’s his first time in a place like this. If maybe he needs a little help after all.

It’s a good thing Michael’s an expert, huh?

He doesn’t want to come at him too strongly, though. Encountering an overbearing sales associate isn’t any more fun than being one, and Michael certainly isn’t looking to push the guy passed his personal boundaries. He may be smitten, but he’s not an asshole.

“Well, if you have any questions about any of our products, my name’s Michael,” he says, flashing him a warm smile.

He’s about to go off in search of a nearby display to straighten up so he can give the man some space, but his voice catches Michael’s attention once more.

“And if I don’t have questions?” the man asks, and when Michael turns to look at him there’s a real smile tugging at his lips this time. “What should I call you then?”

Michael laughs, shaking his head as he shoots back, “Okay, smartass, what should I call you?”

For a single, horrible second after his own words reach his ears, Michael thinks he’s gone too far, but the sudden burst of anxiety in his chest turns out to be for nothing—the man’s grin only grows wider.

“Alex,” he says, and to Michael’s surprise he holds his hand out for him.

Alex’s palm is warm against his when he shakes it, and Michael can’t help but wonder how it would feel anchored in his curls or clutching tight to the skin of his hips.

“So, Alex,” Michael starts, emboldened by the introduction. He finds he likes the way Alex’s name feels in his mouth. “What are you in the market for today?”

Alex flushes a little and it’s so endearing Michael has to bite the inside of his bottom lip to keep from smiling.

“That’s the thing—I don’t really know,” Alex answers honestly. “There’s just so many options.”

“Okay, well, let’s start with an easier question: are you shopping for yourself or a significant other?” he asks, and, yeah, maybe he’s planning on filing the answer to his question away for later. Sue him.

Alex looks at him like maybe he suspects ulterior motives, but Michael shamelessly holds his gaze.

“No boyfriend,” Alex says, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “I’m looking for something for myself.”

“Fantastic,” Michael smiles, before he slips a little deeper into salesman mode. “So, judging by the aisle we’re standing in, I’m gonna take a leap and say that you’re looking for a toy you can use for internal anal stimulation. Is that right?”

“Yeah. Think you can help me out with that?” Alex asks, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Definitely,” Michael answers with a smirk before he turns to the wall display. “As you can see, we have a pretty wide selection; you name it, we’ve probably either got it in stock or can have it shipped in three to five business days. Is there a particular price point you’re aiming for?”

Alex seems to think about it. “I’m not really looking to spend more than $100, but I could go up to $150 if it’ll change my life.”

“I can work with that,” Michael assures him. “Any other parameters I should keep in mind?”

“I’ve read that jelly toys can be dangerous, so definitely not anything made out of that,” Alex says, and Michael’s glad to hear he’s done his research. Jelly toys are frustratingly popular because they’re so cheap and Michael usually has to put in a little work to talk people out of buying them.

“Oh yeah, fuck that jelly shit,” Michael agrees, and Alex’s startled laugh makes his heart skip. “They’re impossible to sanitize properly and they’re full of toxic chemicals—you wouldn’t believe the horror stories I’ve heard about them since I started working here. If you’re looking for something with a softer texture, medical grade silicone is really the only way to go. Just make sure you stick to water-based lube or else you could ruin your toy.”

Alex nods thoughtfully, like he’s read that too.

“Glass and metal are also good options,” Michael continues. “They obviously feel a lot harder inside you, but they’re easy to clean, you don’t have to be as careful about what lube you use, and they’re naturally waterproof. They’re excellent for temperature play, too, if you’re into that.”

“Never tried it,” Alex confesses.

“It’s not for everyone, but it can be a fun time,” Michael says, recalling the scorching summer afternoon he spent fooling around with an ice cube tray and a girl he met on Tinder. “So, your options are metal, glass, and silicone. Any preference?”

Michael notices Alex’s eye catching on a set of stainless steel plugs, but he answers, “Silicone for now, I think.”

“Good choice,” Michael replies easily. “So, now that we know what material you’re looking for, let’s talk about your ideal experience. What are you looking to get out of your purchase?”

“An orgasm?” Alex answers, his confusion evident.

Michael laughs. “Sorry, I meant—how would you like to get there? What sort of sensation are you looking for?”

Alex looks a little lost at the question, so Michael turns to plan B.

“See, this one, for example,” Michael says, pointing to a familiar black prostate massager, “is great for when you wanna get off fast and hard. It’s not too thick, so you don’t have to spend a ton of time opening yourself up for it, and the curve puts the tip of it right up on your p-spot. It’s also got a bunch of different vibration settings and get this: It’s waterproof.”

Alex hums in interested acknowledgement, though Michael notes that the longer he talks, the more Alex’s attention is fixed on him, not the toy.

Feeling bold, Michael adds, “I’d advise caution if you’ve got thin walls though.”

“Why, does it make a lot of noise?” Alex asks curiously.

A slow grin spreads across Michael’s lips. “No,” he says with a shake of his head. “But you will.”

Michael watches Alex try and fail to suppress a smile, his full bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“You seem pretty sure of that,” Alex says when he releases it. “That from firsthand experience, or are you just a really good salesman?”

Michael laughs, equal parts delighted by Alex’s flirting and embarrassed by the memory his question brings to mind.

“What?” Alex asks, a smile building on his face.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you,” Michael hesitates, his face heating up just thinking about it. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Aw, come on,” Alex goads him. “Don’t be such a tease.”

Michael gasps in mock offense. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but a tease isn’t one of them.”

“That mean you’re gonna tell me what’s got you blushing like that after all?” Alex asks.

“I’m not blushing,” Michael protests, even though he definitely is.

Alex raises an eyebrow at him. It’s stupidly attractive.

With a huff, Michael considers his options. He doesn’t usually give personal anecdotes like this to customers, but there’s just something about Alex that makes Michael want to give him whatever he wants.

“Fuck it, why not?” Michael says to himself.

Alex smiles victoriously and settles in to listen.

“So, about a year ago, I came in to work and found this box sitting on the table in the break room, which was filled with a bunch of different toys from the company that makes that massager. I asked my boss about it and she said the company sent her a bunch of free samples.”

“Does that happen often?” Alex interrupts to ask. “Companies just send you free stuff?”

“Eh, sometimes, if it’s from a new line of toys that a company wants retailers to hype up,” Michael explains. “It helps that my boss Jackie’s wife Kris has a pretty popular blog where she tests and rates toys, so she gets free stuff all the time.”

“Huh,” Alex says. “So I’m guessing you took one after your shift?”

“Oh yeah,” Michael nods. “Tried it out as soon as I got home.”

“How was it?”

“Intense is about the only word that covers it,” Michael answers. “Those vibrations can be really powerful, it was like nothing else I’d ever tried before. Definitely one of my top ten solo orgasms of all time.”

“Not number one?” Alex asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I came in, like, a minute, so no, not quite,” Michael laughs.

“Is that the embarrassing part?” Alex asks. “That you came so fast?”

“Not quite,” Michael winces, his cheeks flushing. “As I was coming, I screamed so loud that the little old lady whose living room is on the other side of my bedroom called the cops on me. Apparently, she thought I was being murdered.”

“Oh no,” Alex laughs, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “Not exactly the happy ending I was after.”

Alex laughs again, but there’s heat behind his eyes too when he asks, a moment later, “Not usually a screamer, I take it?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Michael winks.

“Mm,” Alex hums thoughtfully. He looks Michael right in the eye as he asks, “Well, what if I don’t want to get off that fast? What if I want to make it last?”

Michael tries not to smile as he gets back to business.

“Well, I should mention that this massager does also have softer levels of vibration intensity, which I only discovered after Officer ACAB knocked on my door,” Michael says.

Alex laughs before asking incredulously, “You didn’t read the instructions?”

“Uh, no,” Michael admits. “I’m more of a ‘take things apart and see how they work’ kinda guy, I’ve never been big on reading the directions.”

“Even after your little misadventure?” Alex asks.

“Hey, don’t knock my process. I got a fantastic orgasm out of that ‘misadventure,’” Michael reminds him.

“How could I forget?” Alex asks, shooting Michael a look that really tests his self-restraint.

Michael huffs a laugh and reaches up to scratch the back of his own neck so he doesn’t do something stupid, like push Alex against the fucking dildo display and kiss that look off his face.

“So, anyway,” Michael starts, shifting the topic back toward the task at hand, “you can either learn from my mistakes or you can try something that doesn’t have vibrations at all. We’ve got a great selection of dildos in all shapes and sizes.”

“Do any of them come with a story?” Alex asks cheekily.

Michael snickers in spite of himself. “Maybe,” he says noncommittally. “Let’s see what we’ve got in stock.”

Michael hums as he looks over the display, searching for another recommendation he can make, when his eye catches on a purple dildo with ribbing along the shaft.

“This one’s a good starter dildo,” he says, pointing it out. “It’s a pretty modest size, but the ribbing feels really nice and there’s a suction cup on the bottom if you wanna stick it somewhere and fuck yourself onto it. There’s also a few by the same company that have a hole that you can slide a bullet vibrator into if you wanna get something that can do both.”

“Have you tried them all?” Alex asks.

Michael laughs, looking up at the expansive display of dildos. “Not all of them,” he says, glancing over to Alex as he continues, “but the employee discount here is very generous and, as you already know, sometimes we get free shit. I’ve built up a bit of a collection since I started working here.”

“I see,” Alex replies, the corner of his mouth turning up before he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Michael tracks the movement hungrily when Alex releases it a moment later to ask, “Which one’s your favorite?”

“Depends,” Michael shrugs, aiming for nonchalance even though he can feel himself chubbing up in his jeans.

“On?”

“On how full I wanna feel,” Michael answers, and there’s no mistaking the heat that blazes in Alex’s eyes at those words, nor the sudden intake of breath that fills his chest.

If Alex wants him half as much as it looks like he does, Michael doesn’t even care if he gets fired for where this conversation is headed, so long as it ends with Alex’s hands on him.

“See, sometimes all I’m looking for is enough internal stimulation to get the job done,” Michael elaborates, his eyes watching Alex closely. “When I feel like that, I’ll use that prostate massager I showed you earlier on myself.”

Alex’s eyes flick over to the sleek black toy still sitting on the shelf that they’d just discussed.

“And the other times?” Alex asks when he tears his eyes away.

“Other times… other times I really wanna feel it,” Michael purrs, taking a step closer. Alex’s eyes drop right to his mouth, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, and Michael can’t stop himself from asking, “You ever get like that, Alex? Like you just need something thick and heavy filling you up, so deep you’ll be feeling it for days?”

“Yeah,” Alex rasps.

“You wanna know what I fuck myself with then?” he asks.

Alex nods, eyes still on Michael’s mouth.

Michael gives him a sly grin before he backs up a few steps to find the sample of the eight inch galaxy dildo he treated himself to a few months ago. Alex follows him, as if they’re connected by an invisible string.

“This one,” he says, removing it from the shelf and offering it up for Alex’s inspection.

Alex takes it from him, his eyes passing over it with interest as he tests the give of the silicone with his fingers. Michael wonders if he’s imagining what it would look like inside him. He hopes he is.

“It might not look like much compared to some of the fucking horse cocks we sell here, but it’s thick,” Michael says, his cock hardening further the more he thinks about it, the longer Alex stands there holding it. “Takes me some time to work up to it, but it’s always worth it when I do.”

“Yeah?” Alex asks, eyes fixed where he’s shifting his hold on the dildo to measure it’s thickness with his fingers.

“Yeah,” Michael breathes, watching how Alex wraps his thumb and forefinger in a tight circle around the toy. They only just touch around its girth.

Alex hums to himself, sounding pleased, and Michael’s gut churns with the need to hear that sound again.

“I bet this stretches you out nice, huh,” Alex wonders a moment later, and with the way he stares at Michael then, like he’s trying to picture how he would look stuffed full, his rim taught over the silicone, he just knows Alex isn’t speaking generically.

“Yeah, it does,” Michael agrees quietly, trying not to squirm under the intensity of Alex’s gaze.

“How do you use it?” Alex asks him, stoking the flames inside him further.

“If you play your cards right, you just might find out,” Michael shoots back.

“You’d let me watch?” Alex asks, a smile teasing at his lips, and it’s all Michael can do not to get lost in the idea of riding that toy while Alex watches with his hand around his cock.

“Think I’d let you do more than that,” Michael admits.

Alex full-on grins at that, but before he can open his mouth to reply someone clears their throat behind them.

Michael’s heart seizes in his chest as he whips around to see Jenna Cameron, a regular customer and occasional drinking buddy of his, standing with her thumbs tucked into her police-issue gun belt. Michael can feel his erection flag at the sight of her.

“What’s a girl gotta do to get some service around here, Guerin?” Cameron asks, somehow managing to look annoyed and amused simultaneously. He notices there’s a discreet black plastic bag dangling from her fingers. “I’ve got places to be.”

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t hear anyone else come in,” Michael apologizes, trying and failing to keep a blush off his face.

“I can see that,” she answers with a pointed glance at Alex.

Michael takes an instinctive step away from him and clears his throat.

“I’ve gotta—“ he says to Alex, jerking his thumb behind him.

“Yeah,” Alex nods, eyes on his shoelaces. It makes the pleasure that had been coiling in his belly sour further.

“I’ll be right back,” Michael tells him, soft enough that Cameron won’t overhear.

The smile Alex gives him in return is encouraging enough that Michael’s fairly certain he won’t disappear if he leaves, so he follows Cameron back toward the register, all the while pointedly ignoring the smirk he can feel her directing at the side of his face.

He walks around the other side of the cash wrap and crosses his arms over his chest before he asks her, without an ounce of enthusiasm, “What do you want?”

“Damn, you’re really earning that employee of the month trophy aren’t you, Guerin?” she jokes, tossing the bag on the table. “I bought a harness this weekend, but it was broken when I took it out of the box. Receipt’s in the bag.”

Michael takes the box the leather strap-on harness came in out of the bag along with the receipt.

“Do you want a refund or an exchange?”

“Refund,” she says. “I’m thinking about getting one of those strapless ones instead.”

“You should talk to Kris, she’s got opinions about those,” he says as he starts scanning the receipt.

“Oh?” Cameron asks. “Is she here?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “You can catch her at the bondage workshop she’s running later though.”

“Perfect,” she replies before leaning forward onto the counter on her elbows. “So are you gonna tell me who the hottie with the nose ring you were talking to is?”

“Why, so you can find out if he’s got any priors?” Michael jokes, not taking his eyes off his task.

“Very funny,” Cameron deadpans. “You fuck him yet?”

“None of your business,” Michael answers.

“So that’s a no, then,” she smirks, and Michael lets out a long-suffering sigh in response.

“Don’t you have places to be? Donuts to eat?” he asks, pushing her return receipt hastily in her direction.

Before Cameron can answer, the front door swings open and in walks a short middle-aged woman with a dark brown pixie cut carrying an iced coffee and a stack of papers.

Michael startles at the sight of her, realizing it must be later in his shift than he’d thought—exactly how long had he stood there talking to Alex?—but he’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Kris!” Michael calls to her. “Perfect timing, Cam’s got some strap-on questions for you.”

“Well, I’ve got some strap-on answers,” Kris answers cheerfully as she walks around them to drop the stack of papers—freshly-printed but yet-to-be-folded safe sex pamphlets, Michael notices—onto the counter next to the second register. “Step into my office, baby girl.”

Cameron shoots Michael a look before she steps to the side to talk to Kris, who’s leaning patiently against the side of the cash wrap.

With Cameron finally out of his hair but Kris close enough to notice him leave, Michael starts planning his escape so he can find Alex again, but it turns out he doesn’t need one. When he looks up after putting Cam’s broken harness in the bin under the counter, he sees the man in question approaching his register with a familiar black box in his hands.

“I was gonna wait for you,” Alex explains as he sets the box on the counter, “but I’m actually supposed to be meeting my brother soon.”

“Shame,” Michael says, wishing they had more time. “I was looking forward to finishing that conversation.”

Alex glances covertly at Kris and Cameron before he leans a hair closer and says, “Don’t know that it was the conversation you were hoping to finish.”

Michael blushes, casting a look at Kris and Cameron to make sure they’re too engrossed in their conversation to notice when he leans in a little further and says, low so only Alex will hear, “What can I say? I’m very committed to customer satisfaction.”

Alex laughs, a bright and happy sound that makes Michael’s heart feel strangely full, before he asks, “You charm all your customers like this?”

“No,” Michael says honestly. “Not even a little bit.”

Alex looks at him for a long minute, trying to spot the lie, and when he finds none he merely shakes his head with an incredulous smile.

“Lucky me,” he says.

Michael winks at him before he turns his attention to the box on the counter, shifting it in his hands until he finds the barcode. He usually never comments on his customers’ purchases, but with this one he simply can’t resist.

“Went with the prostate massager, huh?” Michael asks, as he rings him up.

“What can I say?” Alex answers, a smile creeping onto his face. “You made me curious.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed,” Michael says.

“No,” Alex replies, and the way he looks at him then makes Michael wonder if they’re still talking about the massager. “I don’t think I will.”

Michael smiles at him before he tells him his total. Alex inserts the end of his card in the reader and his receipt prints a brief moment later.

“Can you sign here?” Michael asks, passing Alex the merchant’s copy of his receipt and the green pen he’d been grading with earlier.

“Mhm,” Alex hums, plucking the pen from his fingers and signing his name in a delicate script.

Michael ducks under the counter to find a bag adequately sized for Alex’s purchase before he places the box inside it along with Alex’s copy of the receipt.

“You’re all set,” Michael says, pushing the box in Alex’s direction.

“Thanks,” Alex smiles, holding the merchant copy of the receipt out for Michael to take. “And this is for you.”

Their fingers brush as Michael takes it from him and Michael swears he can feel the tension crackling between them at the simple touch.

“Thanks,” Michael says, mouth a little dry.

Alex glances back to Kris and Cam before he says, “Have a nice day, Michael.”

“You too,” Michael says, his eyes straying pointedly to the black bag in Alex’s hand.

“Oh, I will,” Alex says, one corner of his lips lifting up into a smile before he turns and heads for the door.

Michael can’t help but watch his ass and those broad shoulders as he leaves.

Once Alex is gone, Michael unfolds the receipt Alex left for him. He’s about to slide it into the folder they keep by the register for receipts when he notices the phone number printed neatly beside Alex’s signature. Below, Alex has also written the words: Hit me up if you want to hear my review.

“You strike out?”

Michael startles, looking up to see Cameron leaning on the counter, a lot closer than she was a moment ago. He sees Kris at the far end, folding her papers into pamphlets for her workshop later.

“Not quite,” Michael grins and pockets the receipt.

[alecmagnuslwb]

Isn’t It Demonic

(There’s a bit at the end of this all for @izzymalec who gave me an interesting fic idea that sadly I couldn’t make into a whole fic, but I wanted to give a shout out to it. Without further ado, enjoy Demon Alec and Ghost Warlock Magnus.)

Read on AO3

“You son of a bitch!”

Alexander stands at the edge of the house just inside the door, rage and fire burning through his veins. The warlock who’d summoned him stands outside a smug grin on his face.

“Did you really think I would be stupid enough to not recognize the wording you used in our deal,” Lorenzo says standing there with a pompous attitude he’s nowhere near earned. Alexander is good at what he does, he’d very carefully worded their deal, a series of hard to find ingredients for freedom on earth, no time windows, an open-ended stay. In hindsight now he’s realizing he technically left an opening; an opening that sadly this prick has taken full advantage of. It’s still a broken deal though, free reign this isn’t. “You wanted free and free you are.”

“Maybe you caught on to my slip up, but that doesn’t mean you’re smart. You still broke a deal with a demon, I said free reign, not just free,” Alexander snarls. “This isn’t free, this is a trap, you violated the deal. I’ll come for you.”

“Good luck with that,” Lorenzo says straightening his jacket and slipping away with a smug grin unbothered. The door to the house he’s stuck in slams shut and Alexander seethes. He’s not sure how long he stands there kicking at the door and yelling, but he knows no one is going to hear him. The little bastard isn’t that powerful definitely not powerful enough to kill him, but evidently he’s powerful enough to bind a house and Alexander’s powers and he’s done it well.

It’s going to take some time and some work to get out of here and kill Lorenzo. Luckily Alexander has all the time in the world.

Alexander turns around stalking through the house and into the library. There’s dust everywhere, he doesn’t know who this house belonged to, but they had taste. Clearly it was never actually Lorenzo’s place.

He finds a dusty old drink cart and picks up a well-aged whiskey drinking directly from the bottle. He goes over to the wall of books picking ones off the shelf and tossing the ones that don’t interest him over his shoulder.

“Could you not do that,” a voice says from behind him. “I’m no neat freak and I’ve been known to toss around a book or two, but I do hate to see quality first editions thrown about.”

Alexander turns around and there in a deep red sitting chair is probably the most attractive man he’s seen in his many centuries of existence. The man is sat lazily across the chair like a lounging cat, a very attractive lounging cat. His lean, chiseled chest and arms are a vision in a black button up mesh shirt with a floral pattern, his strong legs in a pair of well-tailored navy pants send Alexander’s eyes trailing up and down his form.

He’s not shy about his interest and the man clearly isn’t either as he gives Alexander’s all black suit ensemble an appreciative up and down glance as well.

Alexander is so thrown by the man’s appearance that it takes him a full minute to realize he doesn’t know who he is or how he’s here.

“Who are you?” he says with a teasing smirk before turning to put the book in his hand back on the shelf properly.

“I should be asking you that question,” the man says suddenly right by Alexander’s side. He didn’t even hear him move. “You are in my house.”

Alexander hums in understanding eyeing the man up and down once again now that he’s standing, he’s only a bit shorter than Alexander and up close he can now admire the sharp line of his dark eyeliner and the deep blue streak at the front of his dark hair. He looks around the room next, the style matching.

“That makes sense,” he says stepping closer, but not quite touching the other man. “Lorenzo must be a pretty good friend if you’re willing to have a demon roommate.”

The man makes a disgusted face, his brown eyes switching to bright yellow cat eyes that glow with anger. He’s a warlock too.

“Never call Lorenzo Rey my friend,” he says stepping away from Alexander. The suspenders dangling from his waist move tantalizingly as he goes and Alexander has to hold in a growl at the view. He may be a demon, but he also likes to be a bit of gentlemen which is the only thing that keeps him from grabbing the suspenders and pulling the man close.

“The bastard did kill me after all,” the man says with unbridled rage. He bends down, Alexander appreciating the view for a moment despite his surprise at the man’s words, and attempts to pick up the book on the floor. His hand goes right through it.

Alexander sits his drink aside and bends down beside him picking up the book. He reaches over the man sitting it on the table beside the chair.

“I’m Alexander,” he says holding out his hand.

The man looks at it skeptically.

“You know I’ll just go right through that right?” he says gesturing at Alexander’s offered hand. “Plus, I wasn’t born yesterday, never shake a demon’s hand you never know what deal they’re cooking up in their heads.”

Alexander smirks drawing his hand back. He had no ulterior motives, this time, other than to hope that maybe a ghost of a warlock and a demon can touch.

“Smart and beautiful, huh,” he says standing to his full height. The man joins him an imperceptible bit of flustering in his cheeks that he recovers from quickly.

“I’m Magnus Bane,” he says walking with grace back over to the chair and draping himself across it once again. “And the only thing I can touch is furniture.”

Alexander unbuttons his jacket and takes a seat in the opposing chair.

“Nice to meet you Magnus Bane,” he says grabbing for his bottle again. “So, you hate Lorenzo too?”

Magnus snorts at that. “Hate is an understatement; he was a thorn in my side for centuries and then when he couldn’t win over enough people to take my High Warlock post he killed me, which for the record had he not caught me off guard by weaseling into my home after I’d been on a night out drunk off my ass and stabbed me in the neck from behind he would have never pulled it off. Then he trapped me in my home with no magic and no way out.”

Alexander tosses the last of the whiskey in the bottle back.

“Well he just trapped me here,” Alexander says crossing his legs.

“You aren’t the first,” Magnus says running a hand through his hair. It draws Alexander’s attention to his biceps. “He’s used my home for this before, you must be stronger than the others though because he just killed them to get out of his deals.”

“I am,” Alexander says with bravado, the bravado that he uses to intimidate, but not to scare, a bravado that clearly doesn’t intimidate Magnus if the way he rolls his eyes are anything to go by. Alexander likes that he’s not intimidated, it’s different from everyone else’s reactions. “I’ve worked very hard to make sure warlocks think me a lower level demon without a face, not a demon somewhere in the middle with this killer physique.” He finishes gesturing to his body; his eyes slip to their natural black seductively.

“And yet you’re still trapped here,” Magnus says with a sardonic smile and Alexander can’t help but grin in response.

They talk for a little while longer. Trading basic information about the house and how they got here. As far as the outside world is concerned Magnus died in a horrible potion gone wrong accident nearly two years ago, the once vibrant potion room still blown to smithereens.

Where Lorenzo lacks in technical skill or raw power he makes up for with dirty tricks, leaving no trace of anything for anyone to find. Even Magnus’ closest friends who’d worked hard to poke holes in the story couldn’t find a single thing to question about his death.

“As far as I can tell only demons can see me, Lorenzo only figured out I was still lingering because the first demon he trapped here had a big mouth,” he explains wandering in circles around the room passing through the walls occasionally. “He worked up a spell to bind my spirit hear just in case after that.”

Alexander tests his powers coming up with almost nothing at every snap of his fingers, it’s a far too damn good binding. Lorenzo had to have had some help, there’s no way someone with a ponytail that slimy could do this by himself. When Alexander poses the theory Magnus is already ahead of him with a list of possible accomplices.

“He’s built up enough dirt to blackmail plenty of people over the years, but those three are the prime suspects, the weakest in backbone, but strongest in power,” Magnus says.

Night turns into day and into night again as they talk, neither the ghost nor the demon requiring sleep. It’s after all those hours that Alexander feels it’s time to pose a deal.

“Make a deal with me,” he says and he can see the no on Magnus’ lips already. He continues quickly before Magnus can fight it. “I’m sure I can muster up enough power to seal a deal, make you corporeal again and grant you access to your magic, all you’ll have to do for me is get me out of here in exchange.”

Magnus looks like he’s considering it for a moment, like the prospect of having his magic again is enough to make him say yes.

“Not a chance,” he says, putting his hands on his hips and for the first time in hours not pacing. “There’s always a catch when you deal with a demon. Especially one as pretty as you.”

Alexander smiles, a real smile at the pretty comment, but doesn’t love the rest of what he said.

“There’s no catch,” he says as genuinely as he knows how to sound.  Magnus doesn’t buy it though.

“Bullshit, there’s always a catch,” he says and with that he’s out the door, or through it more so off to some other part of the house.

Alexander lets out a frustrated groan, pushing his hands through his hair.

***

Alexander determines quickly that pushing the deal idea will only make Magnus more opposed to it, so he steps back. If Magnus is hesitant to help him well he’s just going to have to bide his time.

He doesn’t mention getting out of the house or Lorenzo at all, instead he just asks about Magnus. It starts as a game, a game to get Magnus to go along with his plan, but quickly he finds himself interested in who Magnus is not just how he looks and how he could help him.

He tells Magnus about himself in return, about his style of being a demon, how he’s called on more often by bad people than good and he happily takes their souls. How he’s kinder to the kids who stumble on things and call upon him for vengeance or something of the sort. He’s not trying to soften himself to Magnus necessarily, but he’s trying to show him how he deals, how Magnus lands on the side of good and he wouldn’t screw him over.

“What are you playing at?” Magnus asks him late one evening when Alexander starts off the night trading off stories of deals gone wrong. Magnus doesn’t flinch when he tells a story about a mundane that asked for a pet hellhound that ultimately ate him, so Alexander pushes and asks for a little more than just the surface Magnus and gets a few stories in return. Stories about how he grew up, about some of his wilder adventures in the 50’s and 60’s, even one about the 1480’s which Alexander is fairly certain isn’t true.  

“I’m not playing at anything,” he says meaning it, he’s really not anymore. Or if he is it’s on the backburner of his mind. “Well, I do play piano though.” He says swerving the subject and gesturing to the piano at the corner of the library, he’s explored a bit, but in the two weeks he’s been stuck here he’s rarely left this room.

He walks over to the piano and sits down playing his fingers over the keys.

“Do you play?” he asks as he plays out a quick short melody.

Magnus joins him sliding over to sit on top of the piano and lay across it on his side. He leans over between where Alexander’s hands are and goes right through the keys. Alexander’s hands move in closer to Magnus’ and he quickly jumps his hand back. He keeps doing that, never letting Alexander get close to even see if they could touch, like he’s scared what it would mean if they could.

“Nope, not even when I could touch the keys,” he explains. “A friend of mine does, I bought it for him when he was staying here for a while.”

“A good friend?” Alexander asks playing another soft melody. He’s a little jealous at the mention of a man who lived here, he’s figured out Magnus is bisexual by now so there could be an implication there. It’s ridiculous even if they were more than a friend it’s not like Alexander has any right to be jealous of an ex, he’s not exactly a blushing virgin demon himself or that he and Magnus are anything more than unwilling, ridiculously good looking roommates.

“More like a brother,” he says and Alexander feels a little relieved. “Or a son I guess considering how young he was when he was turned.”

Alexander raises an eyebrow in question.

“Vampire,” Magnus explains. “He struggled a bit with the change and I took him in.” He sounds sad thinking about the people he’s left behind, Alexander has a feeling this vampire he’s talking about is one of the friends that fought to question if Magnus was really dead.

Alexander nods in understanding, he’s always been a fan of vampires, they’re smart enough to never coming calling on the likes of him for favors.

He goes back to playing, a melody he only barely knows from at least four centuries ago the last time he spent longer than a few short days on earth. This time is far more enjoyable though, that had been a few days of watching the mayhem mundanes caused without any divine intervention, this has been an admittedly frustrating time of being trapped, but being trapped with a man who intrigues him to no end.

***

Weeks pass and Lorenzo never dares show his face in the house again. He makes do though, spending time with Magnus, reading some of his favorite books both in the quiet alone and occasionally aloud just to see Magnus smile.

Despite contrary belief, demons do feel emotion, not easily and not often, but they do feel. Alexander has a fondness for another demon he thinks of as a sister, he’s cared for lovers in the past even if he’s never truly fallen for them, but Magnus Bane makes him feel even more.

Demon’s fall in love rarely, but when they do they fall hard. Their names get echoed in whispers forever about the things they gave up for mere love. The more time he spends with Magnus the more he thinks he’s going end up being one of those whispered names.

Magnus is tough to get a read on sometimes though, he’s open as a book with no binding one moment and then locked as tight as a safe that no one knows the combination to the next. Alexander understands it though, end of the day he’s a demon and getting close to a demon is always to be done with caution.

It doesn’t stop Alexander from flirting to his heart’s content and hoping that his more genuine side shines through.

He spends the time he’s not wooing Magnus wandering through the house, he never goes anywhere Magnus asks him not to, respecting his privacy, but he searches around nonetheless. He even cleans, getting the two years worth of dust off of every surface.

Today he finds himself in the basement, a large empty space it seems aside from the big freezer off to left. He sighs, running his hands along the freezer before lifting it open.

His eyes go wide when he looks inside, there nestled between a few bags of ice is Magnus, or Magnus’ body at least, eyes closed, the hole in his neck from where Lorenzo stabbed him unmissable.

“Holy shit,” he says staring down.

“Such a cliché right?” Magnus says suddenly appearing over his shoulder. “Murdered and tossed in a freezer.”

“This fucker is a regular Hannibal Lector, huh?” Alexander says looking at Magnus now, not his frozen body.

Magnus chuckles. “Blissfully, he’s never cooked any part of me,” he says with a smile.

“Why’d he keep your body?” Alexander asks cocking his hip and leaning against the freezer.

Magnus shrugs mirroring Alexander’s position.

“Not sure, at first I thought he was going to use my blood for some ritual or something, it’s not every day you get your hands on the blood of the son of a greater demon,” he pauses eyeing Alexander like he’s trying to gauge his reaction about the casual reveal. Alexander’s a demon himself, he’s not about to judge. “But instead he just keeps me down here instead of getting rid of the evidence, he doesn’t even bother with glamouring the freezer anymore.”

Magnus stares down at his frozen form longingly. Alexander could probably muster up the power to get rid of it if Magnus asked him to, but he also knows that if they ever plan to get their revenge on Lorenzo having Magnus’ body still here could be an advantage.

There’s also the completely selfish reasoning that if Magnus’ body still exists Alexander could possibly touch him one day.

He shuts the freezer tightly, careful of Magnus’ fingers even though he wouldn’t even feel a pinch if they landed on him and slides down to sit on the floor his back against it. Magnus joins him keeping a good distance between them, but not nearly as much as he usually does.

They sit quietly for a while just sharing space.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Alexander says after a while. He’s genuine and he can tell from the look in Magnus’ eye that he recognizes that now.

Magnus isn’t a perfect person, there’s a darkness in him, in his past, but he’s good down in his core. Far too good to end up dead and stuffed in freezer, trapped as a ghost in his own home spending his days with a demon.

“You’re awfully nice for a demon, Alexander,” Magnus says tilting his head back against the freezer and then towards Alexander.

Alexander huffs. “I wouldn’t exactly call me nice.”

Magnus shakes his head. “You are,” he says lifting his hand like he wants to reach out but can’t. Which technically he can’t Alexander guesses. “You try to hide it, but you’re not one of those demons who just kills indiscriminately. You’ve said it yourself you take deals with bad people and take everything you can, you take deals with good people and go a little easy. You may be a demon, but there’s a good heart in there.”

Alexander doesn’t know what to say to that, he’s always considered himself a demon with a conscious at best, not one with a heart, so he just lays a hand on top of Magnus’ that sits on the cold floor in thanks. Magnus’ hand flickers for a moment almost like it wants to be solid, a brief rush of warmth passing through them both before Alexander’s hand hits the cold floor.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he says knowing from the surprise on Magnus’ face he felt that too.

Magnus meets his eyes, the yellow cat ones always present now, and a smile pulls at his lips just barely concealing his amusement at the unintended pun.

***

They don’t really talk about the moment in the basement. The physics or magic behind how it could feel almost like touch between them probably isn’t recorded anywhere anyway, it’s not like demons and ghosts of warlocks historically spend a lot of time together.

They’re probably the first duo of their kind in history.

But it is like a silent agreement has been made, a barrier has been broken. Magnus doesn’t shy away anymore or disappear for hours on end without a word, he talks a little more, telling stories that don’t feel like they’re made up and Alexander does the same in return.

They get each other, and it’s clear that not many have ever gone out of their way to get who Magnus is, Alexander wants to find them all and curse them. A plan that he knows Magnus wouldn’t judge him for, he’s a demon there’s no getting around that he’s done diabolical things and he likely will again, but Magnus seems to understand him. To understand his motivations and the fact that he’s not all bad, he’s more gray than anything else.

He warms up a little more to Alexander once he understands how he operates, especially when he tells him he loves to give counteroffers to people who are the targets of other vicious dealers.

“Just because I’m designed to be wicked, doesn’t mean I think other people should be allowed to be,” he says one night lying on the floor, Magnus draped across a nearby couch.

“Kind of like the way they say Lucifer doesn’t make man evil, he just punishes the ones who do it,” Magnus says in thought and Alexander smiles a real smile, because he gets it.

Through it all he almost forgets about the fact that he’s trapped, that they’re both still looking for revenge until Magnus brings it up again one day.

Alexander steps out of the bathroom attached to Magnus’ bedroom, a room he’s now been granted access to. The water still runs, and even though he doesn’t necessarily need to he loves a good shower from time to time in the same way he loves a good nap even if it’s not needed either.

He steps out his hair still wet wearing the same pants he’s been wearing since he got stuck here and a dark red shirt with a gold embroidered collar that is actually Magnus’, a little big in the arms he rolls up the too short sleeves when he spots Magnus lying flat on the bed one leg bent up.

His eyes trail down his form, aside from the few pictures he’s been shown and seen around the house, he’s only ever seen Magnus in this one outfit and damn is it a good outfit. The lines of his abs are visible underneath his sheer shirt and Alexander loves to soak up the image.

Magnus lifts up when he notices Alexander standing there moving to sit cross legged with a smile.

“You never asked?” he says out of nowhere no context provided.

“Asked?” Alexander questions moving to sit next to him on the bed.

“About my father, I said the whole blood of a greater demon’s son thing and you just never asked,” Magnus explains.

Alexander shrugs. “To be frank, I don’t give a fuck who your father is, I give fuck who you are,” he says letting that emotion he feels more and more of these days slip through. It’s probably doomed to fall in love with a ghost, but he’s gone and done it anyways. “Plus, honestly most greater demons are assholes.”

He says the second part as a joke, but Magnus doesn’t laugh. He just looks at Alexander stunned and if he’s reading him right grateful.

“Asmodeus,” he whispers and Alexander purses his lips in thought.

“Yup, absolute asshole,” he says with a smirk.

Magnus laughs finally, the laugh that Alexander was hoping to get out of him.

“So you’ve met then,” he says still laughing.

Alexander shakes his head, they’re from different hell dimensions so they don’t exactly run into each other at bars.

“Sort of, only in passing once about three centuries ago when I got into a bit of a scuffle with one of Lilith’s lackeys, and I wasn’t impressed,” he says. “I’m far more impressed with his son.” He adds with a smile reaching out and running his hand along Magnus’ jaw. The same thing that happened in the basement happens, a moment of solid warmth that’s almost real before his hand falls through and back to his own side.

Magnus stares at his fallen hand his face twisted in thought before he lifts his eyes back up.

“What exactly would your terms for a deal be?” Magnus asks and it throws Alexander for a second. He’s barely thought about the idea of a deal between them in months. “Could you really make me corporeal and put my magic back?”

“Well, when I first posed it I’ll admit the second part was a theory, your magical essence lives in your body not your spirit,” he explains. “But, that was before I knew your body was still here, it’s even easier, I just put you back where you belong.”

“You mean like raise me from the dead?” Magnus says skeptically. It’s good he’s skeptic, necromancy is no joke for anyone.

“Not exactly, I don’t fuck with necromancy it always goes bad in the end. But your body and your spirit could reconnect, as could your magic,” he explains, he’s done it once before, so long ago he barely remembers. A deal made for a young warlock who’d lost her adoptive warlock mother. As far as he knows they’re still happy and alive-ish.

“And since he only bound my spirit in these walls, put it back in my body and he can’t hold me or my magic here anymore,” he says, then pauses. “Is it permanent?”

“It can be,” Alexander nods, hoping Magnus wants it to be. He deserves to be as alive as he can be for as long as possible. “It’s not exactly like being a vampire or a zombie, but somewhere in between. You’d essentially be like me, blood in your veins, heartbeat in your chest but no need to live by the rules of any downworlder or mundane anymore. Your immortality will return, but let’s just say it’ll take a lot more than a sneak attack to kill you. Food, sleep, all these things become optional.”

Magnus considers him for a moment scrunching up his face adorably in deep thought.

“What would you need in return?”

“Nothing,” Alexander says. It’s completely unconventional, but it’s true. Revenge against Lorenzo is still important, but Magnus has become far more important.

“Nope,” Magnus says and Alexander goes to defend himself. Magnus cuts him off a finger hovering above his lips. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, I do, but a deal needs to be just that a deal.”

Alexander rolls his eyes, but concedes.

“Fine, dinner, you and me, one dinner, one date, no requirements except I’m buying,” he says with a wicked little smile.

“Just dinner?”

“Yup,” he says popping the p and licking his lips. He’d also like a few things after dinner, he’s spent many a night thinking about getting his hands under that sheer shirt and into those tight pants, but he’s confident enough to believe those things can be given freely and willingly whenever Magnus is ready.

“Okay, then we have a deal,” Magnus says after a few long moments of silence and consideration. He holds out a hand and Alexander takes it best he can, the almost touch must be enough, because Alexander feels the ties that bind a demon’s deal lock into place.

He stands from the bed gesturing for Magnus to follow and goes to the basement swinging open the freezer. Magnus looks down at his frozen form and gulps.

“Ready?” Alexander asks summoning all his accessible power to one point. He hasn’t used a bit of his available power this entire time, saving it for a moment like this. Magnus nods gripping the edge of the freezer. Alexander wishes he could hold his hand. He snaps and Magnus’ spirit disappears, for a deafening few second he’s worried it didn’t work until slowly the color returns to Magnus’ face the ice on his eyelashes and fingertips melting away and the gaping hole in his neck healing back together.

Magnus sits up gasping in a deep breath of air that he no longer technically requires.

Alexander reaches out placing a hand on Magnus’ jaw, there’s no flickering, just solid, freezing cold skin beneath his hand. He runs his hand down to where the neck wound had been, now just a slightly raised white scar against tan skin.

“I’m fucking freezing,” Magnus says reaching up a hand to grip Alexander’s. He laughs pulling back and holding out his hands for Magnus to take. He helps him out of the freezer. Magnus shivers as Alexander closes the freezer tight before pulling Magnus into a hug. They stay there for a long time just holding onto one another, reveling in the touch before Magnus declares he absolutely needs to change his clothes.

“I love this outfit, and clearly you do to,” he says with a shivering smirk. “But I’ve been wearing it every day for two years and I’m over it.”

He snaps his fingers tentatively, uncertainty in his eyes at the prospect of his magic working again, and the outfit Alexander has enjoyed the view of for months now disappears replaced with a whole new equally as stunning ensemble.

He looks down at himself with an unbelievable smile that turns into a wicked smirk on his lips that Alexander wants to kiss when he meets his eyes.

“So, revenge or dinner first?” he asks cheekily.

It takes everything in Alexander not to say dinner first.

***

Watching Magnus work his magic is more mesmerizing than Alexander could have ever imagined it to be.

His arms move swiftly, an entrancing spell of their own and Latin spills from his lips easily, the dep lilting tone of his voice executing each word more perfectly than the demons who invented the language eons ago.

Two years of not a single spell and it’s like it’s only been a few days since he last casted. Magnus eyes are alight with power, his strong shoulders carrying the weight of it all beautifully and with total grace. Alexander watches in awe as Magnus works his way into the walls breaking down the binds that hold Alexander here and limit his power.

A wave of blue magic spirals over the walls of the house and then cascades across Alexander’s skin. The burn against his skin soothes instantly, like Magnus’ magic is healing him even as it burns.

Magnus staggers a bit for a moment after he’s done and Alexander is instantly at his side. He rights himself quickly, his body clearly still acclimating to all being united once again.

“You okay?”

Magnus smiles at him and holds out a hand, “Better than ever. Shall we?”

Alexander takes his hand, now all warm to the touch with magic and blood flowing through him once again. Alexander gives a wicked smirk as he feels his own power flow through him and he snaps his fingers.

***

On the other side of his snap they land in Lorenzo Rey’s living room. His house is more like a castle and it’s hideous, Alexander is not surprised.

They don’t have an exact plan, per se, but they’ve agreed that he deserves a long game of torture, a miserable life trapped as something humiliating, not an easy death.

Lorenzo must feel the disturbance in his wards, he immediately rushes in hands glowing with balls of yellow magic. Magnus and Alec just roll their eyes, he’s no match for the two of them at full power.

“How the hell are you two here?” he says throwing a ball of magic at each of them. Alexander reaches out in front of Magnus and himself and catches the two balls easily in his hands. He shoots them back at Lorenzo’s feet causing him to yelp and jump back.

Magnus smiles and steps forward binding Lorenzo’s hands and feet in burning ropes. He tips over no longer able to keep himself standing. Magnus and Alexander walk over to where he struggles against his burning bonds, each of them standing on one side of Lorenzo.

Magnus twists his hand the ropes getting tighter.

“You really should have gotten rid of my body,” Magnus says crouching down. Alexander joins him.

“And you should have gotten some friends together to kill me,” he says with a no doubt evil smile. It’s a reminder that they still need to figure out who was helping him, he adds it to his mental checklist somewhere after this revenge show, dinner with Magnus and if he’s lucky some other fun with Magnus. “Not that you have any friends.” He adds, a little sharp burn just for fun.

“You can’t kill me, you kill me and the warlocks won’t ever let you have your position back,” Lorenzo spits out.

“Laws don’t apply to me, I can still kill you,” Alexander says gripping Lorenzo’s jaw in a painful hold. His eyes slip into their natural black from the hazel they often sport and he outright growls in anger. Fear lights up Lorenzo’s face.

“Alexander,” Magnus says softly reaching out to circle his wrist. He loosens his grip on Lorenzo and sighs.

“You’re right,” Magnus says diverting his attention to Lorenzo. He tightens the ropes once more just a little, tears forming in the corner of Lorenzo’s eyes. “I can’t kill you, at least not directly, but that’s okay, because I know for a fact that despite your murderous powerplay, Catarina still got the votes for High Warlock and I think she’s better suited for the job than anyone.”

“So no,” Magnus says going to his full height. “You won’t die today, not even by Alexander’s hand. Even though he doesn’t have some of the qualms I do about it,” he pauses smiling at Alexander who’s still crouched on the ground. He lifts a hand floating Lorenzo upright. “But you do have to pay, and I don’t think anyone warlock or otherwise is going to disagree with that.”

Magnus snaps his fingers again and Lorenzo screams. His body convulses, the scales he must hide behind a glamour showing through and then he drops to the ground. His bonds fall the burning ropes settling around a small ugly looking little lizard on the floor.

Alexander stands.

“Hm, he doesn’t look all that different,” Alexander muses eyeing the lizard on the floor. He tries to scurry away and Alexander steps out a foot catching him by the tail. Lizard Lorenzo shrivels back in pain.

Magnus chuckles and waves his hands a cage appearing before him. Magnus picks Lorenzo up and tosses him in unceremoniously, sealing the lid with a small gap for air. He waves his hand again sending Lorenzo off to the basement of his house, right on top of the freezer where he left Magnus’ body all this time.

“So, dinner?” he says stepping back over to Alexander and slipping an arm around his waist.

“Don’t you want to do a dramatic, I’m alive again reveal to your friends?” Alexander asks, knowing Magnus loves a thrill of dramatics every now and then.

“Sort of alive again,” Magnus corrects. Alexander waves the correction away, semantics. “And while I do love the idea, I want to seal this deal first.”

Magnus moves so he’s standing in front of Alexander. Alexander is back in his all black suit and Magnus reaches out fixing the collar of his jacket. He stays put cat eyes looking up directly into Alexander’s still black pools.

Alexander takes the silent invitation and leans in. Their lips meet and Alexander feels like he’s on fire in the best possible way, and he would know he’s been on fire literally before. Their lips and tongues do a dance that feels practiced like they’ve been doing this for centuries not just kissing for the first time. It’s crazy to realize this is only the fourth maybe fifth time they’ve even fully touched.

He’s not sure how long it takes for them to pull back but Magnus’ cat eyes are dilated and he’s sure if he went back to his own hazel ones they’d look much the same.

“Maybe we should skip dinner,” Magnus breathes leaning in to peck Alexander on the lips on more time.

Alexander shakes his head and even though it pains him to say his next words he does.

“Nope dinner first, a deal’s a deal,” he says with a smirk.

***

Six Months Later

Despite the deal being a mess Alexander’s deal with Lorenzo is still technically in place. Alexander does have free reign to stay on earth and stay he does. Dinner with Magnus is great, just being outside of the house is a freeing thing for both of them, but ironically they can’t wait to go back.

He ravishes Magnus’ body that night surrounded by deep red silk sheets and resolves to never sleep anywhere else. Not that either of them have to sleep anymore, it’s just nice to indulge in the act every now and then.

Magnus reveals his rebirth to his friends in particularly dramatic fashion, Alexander’s fairly certain that if a vampire had a still beating heart Raphael’s would have stopped dead in the moment. They welcome him back easily and welcome Alexander in a little more hesitantly.

He gets it, he still is a demon. He still makes deals and collects favors and souls from wicked people along the way there’s good reason to be wary.

They eventually warm up to him though, if for no other reason than the way Magnus looks at him.

They get to work on finding the warlock that helped Lorenzo. Ragnor turns out to be the one with the best lead. They don’t give Malcolm Fade the same fate as Lorenzo though, Lorenzo who last Alexander checked had been turned into a rat for a change Magnus torturing him a bit with a wheel and a treat on a stick he couldn’t reach. A good threat from a demon and a powerful warlock is more than enough to put Malcolm in his place.

Touching Magnus, being able to feel him, not just hear him and see him is like a revolution. Alexander just can’t get enough, life as a demon has left him touch starved and he craves Magnus like a plant craves the sun.

“Morning,” Alexander grumbles reaching out across the sheets. Magnus is already alert sitting up in bed with a book in his hand. Alexander’s fairly certain he didn’t sleep at all.  

“Good morning, love,” Magnus says running a hand through Alexander’s messy black hair. He sits up settling next to Magnus and resting his head on his shoulder.

“I had a weird dream,” Alexander says once he’s settled in comfortably. He doesn’t sleep often and he dreams even more rarely, but the more time he spends on earth the more dreams come. “You were a cyborg and I was a merman and we fell in love, but because you couldn’t get wet without malfunctioning we had to find a way to make it work, so we could be together.”

Magnus makes a face and twists away a bit, he grabs Alexander’s chin lightly and examines him. Alexander drops the hazel eyes and goes to full black and Magnus’ breath hitches just a bit, but always one to tease right back he drops his own glamour cat eyes shining with mirth.

“Because being a demon with a conscious and a ghost warlock, turned into an undead warlock isn’t a weird enough love story,” Magnus says, he leans in kissing Alexander once quickly before letting go of his chin. “No more late-night b-movies for you.”

“But I love them,” Alexander grumbles putting on his best big black puppy dog eyes, literally rolling the hazel ones he sports for the world away.

Magnus just rolls his eyes before tossing his book to the side and maneuvering himself so he’s sat on Alexander’s lap. His legs bracket his hips and he leans in pressing his forehead to Alexander’s.

“I love you,” he says bringing his arms up around Alexander’s neck.

“I love you too,” Alexander says, a feeling he never thought he’d feel like this. He pulls Magnus closer, locking their bodies tight together, forever.

[sevlgi]

can I hold on?

requested: yes

group: blackpink

pairing: jisoo x fem!reader

genre: angst, questionable fluff

contents: idol!au, conflicted jisoo. based on this reaction. 

warnings: infedelity

synopsis: Jisoo doesn’t know what to do when you tell her you’re cheating on someone with her, but she can't help but hold on to whatever sliver of love you have for her.

a/n: none

word count: 2.4k

When you ask to take her out to a nice dinner place to talk about something important, Jisoo isn’t quite sure what to expect.

She isn’t paranoid enough to think you’re breaking up with her, not in the slightest-- you aren’t the type to fight at all, never mind in the past couple of weeks, so breaking up wouldn’t make any sense. And of course, it isn’t abnormal to go on fancier dates in nice restaurants, especially not when you’re nearing your 6th month anniversary together, but it’s the texts flashing across her phone screen that worry her.

Jisoo’s fingers tighten on the sides of the device as she stares at the messages, foot tapping impatiently on the floor of the taxi. The car ride should be relaxing with the green of well-groomed trees and shiny glass buildings outside the window, but her heart thuds in her chest with a heavy rhythm that betrays her nerves.

Y/N [6:11]   hey, jagi, what do you think about going to a restaurant tomorrow?

Y/N [6:11]   there’s something important to talk about.

In her experience, ‘needing to talk’ never bodes well. While dating you, she’s also discovered that you’re a straightforward person who never phrases things so vaguely. With all the factors combined, Jisoo is nothing short of frightened about what could possibly merit you bribing her with an expensive lunch.

The sounds of her heels clacking against marble floors rings too loud in her head as she walks into the restaurant. No one pays any mind to her, even with the black mask and sunglasses she wears to protect her identity. “Um, reservation for Y/L/N?” she tells the receptionist. When he picks up a menu and beckons for Jisoo to follow, she does; she doesn’t hear a single thing that he says, though, still focusing on what you could possibly need to tell her.

Did something happen with her family? Is she in legal trouble? What about money? No, Y/N hasn’t asked for money before, that’s a dumb thought-

“Hey, Jisoo!” you call out, standing with a smile and breaking her fixation. Jisoo can’t help the grin that takes over her face and the warm, fluttery feeling in her stomach. “It’s really nice to see you.”

“Good to see you too,” she sighs and accepts the hug you offer. As always, you pull a chair out for her before sitting down yourself. “Soda at a fancy restaurant? You’re out of your mind, Y/N Y/L/N,” Jisoo jokes when she sees the glasses of bubbly liquid. 

You look just as beautiful as always, a little done-up to match the atmosphere of the restaurant. When the idol sitting across from you takes off her disguises, you grin at the sight of her face. “Since when are you a high-class lady who’s too good for soda? I’m disappointed, jagi.”

Laughter escapes the both of you; this is nice, the familiar light banter that Jisoo’s used to. She wants to stay like this, not descend into the awkward, heavy silence that she knows is coming. In an effort to delay it, she asks, “So, what do you want to eat?”

“Uh, how about the pasta? Carbonara, maybe?” you suggest, scanning the menu with your lips pursed. When she doesn’t respond to you, you look up with a small smile. “Hey, Jichu-yah, did you hear what I said?”

“What? Oh, yeah, spaghetti sounds good,” she answers distractedly, scanning the menu again. “I’ll get some salad and soup, and we can share the pasta.”

“Carbonara, not spaghetti,” you snicker, dodging the napkin she tosses at you. “You’re distracted today. Something going on at work?” You raise a hand to order, completely at ease. Honestly, Jisoo hates that she’s suspecting ulterior motives; you could easily have meant that you needed to talk to her about another nice date you’ve planned, or an event you want her to attend with you. Yeah. That’s probably it.

Right after the waiter bows and leaves with your order, though, you sigh and lean forward a little bit, forearms against the table and your voice lowered. “While our food gets here, we should probably talk.”

“About what?” She tries to sound nonchalant, but probably fails miserably. Jisoo’s never been the best liar, at least not with you. 

You’re silent for a second, probably trying to find a gentle way to break the news (Jisoo still doesn’t know what it is). Every second that passes only prolongs the doom settling like a cloud above the two of you; after what seems like an eternity, you settle with something that’s horrifying to hear nonetheless. “I… I’ve been lying to you.”

When the brunette doesn’t say anything, focused on schooling her expression, you’re forced to continue, “It’s really hard to explain, but I’ve been dating someone else.”

“You’re cheating on me,” Jisoo rephrases, her voice already hollow. It’s the worst possible scenario, one that she didn’t even bother to evaluate in all her anxiety, and she doesn’t know what to do.

Shaking your head vehemently, you protest, “No, that’s... that isn’t it. I haven’t been cheating on you, but I’ve been cheating on her. With you.”

Her mind racing a mile a minute to try and understand what the hell’s going on, she stammers, “Wait, what? What do you mean you’ve been cheating on her with me? Who?”

You bite down on your bottom lip, probably hard enough to bleed, but you answer, “Her name’s Sumin. We’ve been dating for almost 2 years, but we were having problems when I met you. And I knew you wouldn’t approve, so that’s why I didn’t--”

“Of course I wouldn’t! You… you’re a cheater!”

Her words seem to hit you like a physical slap; Jisoo almost expects to see a red hand mark across your face when you flinch. You then sink into your hands, fingers tangled in your hair. “I guess I am. But I love you, Jisoo, and that part’s real. The problem is that I also love Sumin.”

Jisoo can barely believe what she’s hearing. All this time, you’ve managed to fool her into believing that you’re honest, that you’re a good person and that you truly love her. According to your words, maybe you do, but she can’t believe a single word out of your mouth when you’ve been lying all along.

The guilt hits her like a train. She’s been helping you break the heart of your other girlfriend, even while she doesn’t realize it. It’s easy to put all the blame on you and claim ignorance, but how would she feel, if someone did this to her?

Shitty, obviously.

The logical answer, Jisoo concludes as she leans back in her chair, is to break up with you right then and there. You’re cheating on someone else with her, which is terrible enough, but how does she know you won’t do it again, to her the next time?

Still, the brunette wants to believe that you have something real together. There’s no way that everything she feels for you, the things you’ve made her feel, are all a lie. Her heart might be misguided, but it can’t be completely blind… right?

“I understand if you’re going to break up with me.” Jisoo startles as you speak again; trapped in her own thoughts, she almost forgot that you’re sitting across from her, never mind that the two of you are at a restaurant at all. You look admittedly remorseful, fiddling with your hands like Jisoo knows you do when you’re nervous. “I’m sorry about all of it, lying to you-”

“Stop,” your girlfriend sighs, holding up a hand. “I… I’m not breaking up with you.”

“You’re not?” you look as shocked as Jisoo herself feels, even as the words keep pouring out of her mouth.

“No, I’m not. I want to believe we have something, Y/N, something that’s worth fighting for. I want to believe that you love me just as much as I love you.”

You reach for her hand, nodding quickly. Hurt etches in your brow when she moves away, but you promise, “Of course I do! I swear I do love you, Jisoo.”

“Okay,” she exhales, running her hands through her hair. “I mean, that’s something. But you do realize, I can’t continue with you like this. I’m not going to help you eventually break Sumin’s heart.”

A sigh escapes you, deep and wearisome, when you realize the implication behind her words. “Oh. You want me to choose.”

Jisoo finally reaches over to squeeze your hands, shaking her head. “Not choose. I want you to realize what you need to do on your own, and hold yourself accountable for all the hurt you’re inflicting on Sumin. I want you to fix this before you can earn my trust back as well.”

She watches you scrunch your eyes up and press your palms to your forehead. “If you don’t want to be with me after this, I won’t blame you. I’ll respect any decision you make, but you can’t be with the both of us.”

You open your mouth to say something, but the waiter arrives with your food, and Jisoo thanks him with a smile before turning back to you. “Let’s just enjoy our food, okay? And then I’ll give you time to make things right.”

As soon as she’s back in the dorm with no one around to watch her, Jisoo slumps to the floor of her bedroom, her back against the door and her face in her hands. She tried her best to be strong for you, to not show how shaken up she was by the whole situation, but it’s inevitable that she breaks down.

How could you lie to her like that, and use her to hurt someone else? How could you make her fall for you while you had someone else the whole time, someone you had history with and loved for years?

Jisoo never wants to hurt people. She’s not that kind of person to wish pain on anyone, no matter what they’ve done to her; when she thinks of Sumin, all she can think of is someone innocent. Someone who doesn’t deserve the mess that you’ve created, a mess that Jisoo herself has also been dragged into.

It isn’t her fault, not in any way, but she can’t help but think that it is. It’s her fault for not seeing the signs and not recognizing that you weren’t being honest with her.

In the end, it’s her fault for helping you destroy the heart of someone else and refusing to see the signs. It’s her fault for being selfish and wanting to hold on to whatever small sliver of love you feel for her, and it’s her fault that you need to make a choice that you shouldn’t have to.

Dammit, Jisoo. Tears slide down her cheeks, and she wipes them away as she collapses onto her bed. It’s wrong that she wants to be the one you choose, that she wants you to give up something that’s such a huge part of your life. You’ve been with Sumin for years, but if you really loved her, would you have gone for Jisoo at all?

And more importantly, can she hold on to you any longer? If you choose her, how can she trust you again?

You don’t reach out for weeks, and while that should mean you’re fixing your mistakes, Jisoo’s incredibly worried about you. Some dark corner of her brain whispers that something’s happened to you, or that you’ve run away to avoid making a choice.

Needless to say, she’s thinking too much.

When she finally receives that long-awaited text in the middle of practice, Jisoo wants to drop everything to run back to you, even if it’s foolish. Instead, she calms herself down enough to read your message impassively, the beat of AAIYL thrumming under her feet. 

Y/N [11:43]   Jisoo, are you in practice?

She’s almost disappointed by the message as she scans it over. None of her questions have been answered, and none of her stress has been relieved, either. 

“Jisoo unnie, we need to practice,” Lisa calls out, sounding apologetic but also understandably impatient. Their members watch while talking quietly, nodding when Jisoo raises a hand in response. As quick as she can, the brunette fires a response back before stuffing her phone back in her bag and standing:

Jichuu [11:45]   yes, I’ll call you when I’m out.

Despite her efforts, practice is too difficult to focus on, and her members can easily tell. Jennie’s the one who calls for an end to it. “Okay, I think we’re all a bit distracted, let’s just stop for today,” the second-oldest smiles, clapping her hands together. 

Immediately, Jisoo grabs her phone, the only thing she needs, and bolts out of the practice room. Your number is still #1 on speed dial, and she presses call when she’s out of earshot. Before anyone picks up, though, she sees you, standing in the building’s lobby, and only gets to see your surprised expression for a second before she wraps her arms around you.

You hug back quickly, nose tucked into the crook of your girlfriend’s neck like always. The position’s familiar, and it’s so, so comforting.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jisoo breathes when she pulls away. She searches your eyes, trying to see if you’ve made a decision. “Have you…”

“Yes,” you answer, a smile on your face. There’s a smudge of eyeliner under your eyes that tells the brunette that you didn’t make the decision lightly. “I… broke up with Sumin. I explained everything to her, and I want to be with you. If you’ll take me back.”

Even after waiting for you this long, Jisoo hesitates to say yes, and you can see her apprehension in her eyes. After weeks, she still doesn’t know what to do, but she bites her lip and answers, “I will. But you need to know that I don’t trust you, at least not completely.”

You nod, hands resting on your girlfriend’s waist. “I know. I know, Jisoo, but you’re giving me a chance, and that’s enough. I’ll win your trust back again, I promise.”

“Okay. I’m rooting for you, Y/N,” the brunette exhales, resting her head on your shoulder. “Don’t let me down.”

[malewifegrantaire]

The Birthday Thing

READ PART ONE HERE

PART TWO: Guess who’s coming to dinner hang out for no apparent reason (as far as Grantaire can tell)?

Combeferre had inadvertently ruined the rest of Grantaire’s week. It wasn’t his fault, of course. He couldn’t be blamed for Grantaire’s Incredibly Bad Brain. But still, “I just know Enjolras and I know he likes you” is a very reckless phrase to pepper into a conversation with someone of Grantaire’s constitution. He could hardly fall asleep that night because the words I know he likes you were clanging too loudly against the bars of the jail cell he called a mind. He didn’t mind too much though. The clanging was because Enjolras liked him, which made all of the noise sound a bit like music.

Grantaire picked out an outfit for the party and laid it out like he was a little kid excited for a school trip. Embarrassed with himself, he threw the entire outfit into his clothing hamper so he wouldn’t have to look at it lying out on his dresser anymore. Which was obviously a mistake, because now the clothes were are wrinkled and they were touching his actually dirty clothes. Which meant now he had to do a half load of laundry on a weekday, which he really didn’t like doing.

As he folded his laundry, Grantaire felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Huh. It was from Combeferre. Odd.

hey, are u free? sorry lol i am bored and wanted to know if u wanna hang out ??

Very odd. Maybe the wrong number? Just to be safe, Grantaire texted back:

grantaire is folding laundry right now, like a responsible adult.

Two texts back:

very interesting use of third person..

i can help if u want! i love 2 fold things

So this was Grantaire’s life. He used to be young and wild, and now he’s the sort of person that makes plans with people who text him sentences like “i love 2 fold things.” He typed his response.

uh, sure? might get boring, but i’ll never say no to an extra set of hands.

About fifteen minutes later, Combeferre was inside of Grantaire’s apartment. “You got here fast.” Grantaire said.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“Aren’t you always?”

Combeferre took in Grantaire’s apartment, which gave Grantaire such a wave of self-consciousness that he thought he might be sick. It was a fine apartment, kept clean mostly because Grantaire hardly spent any time in it. The ceilings were far too low for Combeferre.

“This is a really nice place.” Combeferre said. “Have you lived here long?”

“Five years, I think.” Grantaire said. “I think the landlord thought I’d have left by now, but, well. I’m still here.”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s nice. Good windows. Not easy to come by.”

Grantaire laughed at that. “Hey, was there something you wanted to talk about? Or are you just here to admire my big beautiful windows?”

Combeferre looked slightly embarrassed. “Uh, the latter, I guess.” he said. “I mean, just what I texted, I was bored, and I guess . . . I don’t know. I guess I thought we could just hang out?”

Now it was Grantaire’s turn to be embarrassed. Of course. Combeferre is the sort of person who’s actually, you know, decent. He was just trying to be nice and Grantaire was accusing him of having an ulterior motive. Way to go. Grantaire cleared his throat. “Well, thanks for coming. Feel free to park wherever. I only did a half load of laundry so I’m finished folding, sorry. I know how much you love to fold.”

“I went through a very intense Marie Kondo phase.” Combeferre grinned. “Let me know if you ever need your closet to be reorganized.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Grantaire said. It was dawning on him that, being more of the roaming type than the nesting type, Grantaire almost never had people over his apartment, and therefore had very little hosting experience. So he did what he always did in situations like this - said what people say in movies and books and all that.

“Can I offer you a beverage of some kind? I’ve got . . . tap water. And orange juice. And maybe beer?”

“I’m alright, thanks.” Combeferre said kindly. Combeferre’s fridge was probably fully stocked with sparkling water in every flavor for guests to sip on, the bastard. He sat down in a little chair by the kitchenette. “What, what is it?” he asked, looking at Grantaire’s expression. “Why are you - what’s funny?”

“Everything is too small for you in here. It’s like shoving a Barbie doll into a Polly Pocket house.” Grantaire said with a laugh. Combeferre tucked his long legs a bit closer to himself.

“Well, Barbie is a good role model, so I’ll take that.”

“I think an averaged sized woman or two might disagree. Anyways, you’ve got impeccable timing.”

“What do you mean?” Combeferre inquired.

“I mean that someone must have wanted us to hang out today. God, the Fates, some non-denominational arbiter of Destiny.” Grantaire was doing that thing he always did where he ended sentences in a way that begged the listener to ask him to explain himself. Why he chose to speak in these irritating circles? We will likely never know. Grantaire sure as hell didn’t.

Combeferre rolled his eyes, but he seemed more amused than annoyed. “You’re impossible.”

“It’s been said before.” was Grantaire’s reply. “What I mean to say is I’m literally never home. Not literally-literally, but, you know. This apartment is basically a glorified storage unit that I visit when there is absolutely nothing else to do. So the fact that you happened to be passing by on a laundry day...”

“... a work of divine intervention?” Combeferre finished.

“I’d go so far as to call it a miracle if I believed in that sort of thing.” Grantaire said.

Combeferre’s next question caught Grantaire off-guard somewhat. “So you’re an atheist, then?”

Grantaire had never actually seen a shrink, but he had the passing sensation of being sprawled out on some brown leather fainting sofa. Maybe that’s what this was, a psych eval. He’d get a message from the official Les Amis de l’ABC e-mail account later in the week saying “sorry, R, you’ve been deemed mentally unfit to be a part of this organization. We know the Musain is public property, but if you could avoid the premises during our scheduled meeting times we all think that’d be for the best.”

“Well, yeah, aren’t all of the lefties heathens nowadays? At least that’s what Twitter tells me.” he said. His paranoia would not rob him of his (debatable) sense of humor.

Combeferre just shrugged. “I guess if I had to call myself something I’d say I’m agnostic.”

“Huh!” Grantaire said, genuinely surprised. “A member of the ‘namby-pamby, mushy pap, weak-tea, weedy, pallid fence-sitter’ brigade, are we?”

Two things occurred to Combeferre at once: One, that Grantaire was quoting Richard Dawkins, and two, that Grantaire could not have been certain that Combeferre would recognize the quote when he said it. Grantaire was both the sort of person that committed Dawkins to memory and the sort that didn’t really care if someone mistook his references for a string of improvised insults. The more Grantaire spoke, the more Combeferre became aware of how little speaking they’d ever done.

“I guess I just think one can never be sure.” Combeferre said.

Grantaire thought now would be a good time for a subject change. “So, how is party planning going?” he asked.

Combeferre sighed. “It’s . . . it’s going.” he said. “Well, okay, I’m being dramatic. Courfeyrac is actually the one doing most of the planning. I just get weird about stuff like this. I want Enjolras to like everything, you know?”

“I don’t think Enjolras is capable of disliking anything you do.” Grantaire said in a way that to the untrained ear might sound like a veiled insult, but that Combeferre suspected was an attempt at genuine sincerity.

“Well, thanks.” Combeferre smiled gratefully. “I just want him to have a good time.”

“He will. It’s the rest of us you’ll have to work to entertain.”

“Well, Courfeyrac has a slew of party games he’s preparing. Oh, and, uh, Enjolras mentioned he’s glad you’ll be able to make it. By the way.” Combeferre said, which made Grantaire blush, which made Combeferre smile.

Grantaire hated that. Not just when Combeferre did it, when any of them did. Making faces or little comments, as if they were in on some big secret. It’s like they were proud of themselves for noticing Grantaire’s little crush, like they knew something funny or scandalous or cute. But they didn’t know anything, not really. Grantaire didn’t have a crush on Enjolras at all. It was more like a religion. Maybe he’d been too quick to brand himself an atheist earlier.

His annoyance with Combeferre soured the rest of their conversation. He became mean, curt, and downright humorless. This wasn’t at all fair, he knew. Grantaire probably annoyed Combeferre every third sentence (maybe every third word) and that had never stopped Combeferre from being his usual amiable self. There was another difference between the two: Grantaire lacked both grace and graciousness, and Combeferre, it seemed, never ran out of either.

“Well, I guess I should be leaving.” Combeferre said after a while, rising from the squat chair he was sitting in.

“I guess.”

“Uh, thank you for having me over. We should do this again some time. I had fun.” Combeferre lied.

Grantaire smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes. “Yeah, why don’t we all do brunch some time? You can bring your friends, it’ll be a real party. Everyone can sit around admiring my huge windows. What a blast!”

Combeferre knew he was joking, but he couldn’t decipher the punchline. What would be so bad about having all of their friends over for brunch? Why did he say the word “friends” like that, all sardonic and italicized? Combeferre almost asked him, but instead he just shook his head and smiled.

“Okay. Well. Bye!”

Grantaire waved lazily. “See you around.”

Under normal circumstances, the phrase “Enjolras mentioned he’s glad you’ll be able to make it” would have found itself fluttering in the pit of Grantaire’s stomach. Instead, there was something else sitting in there. Something that felt a bit like failure, a bit like guilt, and - most surprising of all - a bit like affection.

This is precisely why he didn’t like having people over.

[war-of-the-words]

A December Night

A very merry Christmas and happy holidays to my @dcmkkaishinevents giftee, Clef! I sincerely hope this gift makes you smile! -Two

Kaito hated wearing heels. They weren’t any problem for him now, he could wear them for hours if he had to, but that doesn’t mean he enjoyed them. And when you’re disguised as an attractive young woman at a private auction for high-priced items, heels were practically mandatory. Plus, heels made his legs look fantastic.

He hadn’t sent an advance notice this time. He just wanted it to be a quick in and out kind of deal. The majority of this decision was because Nakamori finally got time off and he promised Aoko that he would spend the day holiday shopping together. Aoko had been so excited to hear it, and Kaito thought that they both deserved some father-daughter time.

Unfortunately, that meant that Kaito had to spend more time than he liked weaseling an invitation for his disguise from the organizers. It never ceased to amaze him how sleazy “high class” people could be. But he was there now, circling the buffet table like a shark and eating his fill of the pretentious mini desserts. 

“Excuse me?” a voice said from behind him. An incredibly familiar voice that made Kaito’s blood run cold.

“Hm?” he hummed, turning around and giving the intruder a warm smile. The face wasn’t one he wanted to see. Kudou Shinichi stood there, looking incredibly handsome in a fitted charcoal suit, a smile on his face. Kaito hated how he couldn’t help but notice the way one side of his lip always pulled a little higher than the other.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you babe.” What did he just say? 

“Um, I think you’ve-” Kudou tilted his head ever so slightly, a sharp look in his eyes. Kaito slid his gaze to where Kudou indicated and noticed one of the more sleazy organizers orbiting a little too close for comfort. It clicked, Kudou had seen a woman in potential danger and stepped in like a knight in shining armor. “-got the wrong idea about why we came here, dear. The jewelry is great and all, but you know I can’t resist a good dessert table!” Kudou laughed, it made Kaito’s heart do backflips. Why, of all the people that could materialize at a secret KID heist it had to be him.

“How did you think I knew to find you here?” Kaito was about to respond, but the organizer finally decided to make his move.

“Miss Yamagi!” He said, walking over from where he was not so subtly eavesdropping. “I didn’t know you knew Kudou Shinichi!” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, he thought he was catching Kaito in a lie here, whether for leverage to get Kaito alone or to make a fool of him like the rich often like to do.

“Of course I do.” Kaito said, pushing as much honey into his voice as possible. He ran a hand through his long blonde wig. Yamagi was an aspiring model after all, a good cover for being taller than average, and a wonderful opportunity to use one of his favorite wigs, but she was best for winning over unruly men. Kaito watched the way the organizer followed Kaito’s hand as he played with his hair, winding the soft locks around his finger. How easy this would be. “We’ve been seeing one another for a while now, but its a secret.” Kaito pushed out his bottom lip into an adorable pout.

“Her modeling career hasn’t taken off yet, and my darling refuses any help from my family. She’s determined to get there on her own terms; that’s why she insisted on getting her own invitation to this event instead of being my plus one.” Kudou said, moving closer to Kaito’s side and smoothly wrapping his arm around Kaito. Kaito didn’t want to think about how easy it was to lean into Kudou’s side. 

“Is- is that so?” The organizer looked like he was trying very hard to refrain from mentioning the PDA. “Well, be careful that the press here doesn’t see you.”

“We will,” Kudou said with a cold smile, letting the organizer know his intentions were known, “We’ll just be on our way, excuse us.” And with that Kudou guided Kaito out towards the balcony, which was devoid of people thanks to the chilly weather.

“Thank you,” Kaito said once they were out of earshot of the rest of the guests. He could’ve easel handled it himself, but it was nice to be given help.

“You’re welcome, although I have to admit I had ulterior motives.” Kudou shimmed off his suit jacket and wordlessly placed it around Kaito’s bare shoulders. Suddenly, Kaito was very thankful he had worn a strapless dress.

“Oh, and what might those be?” Kudou probably didn’t know he was KID, he hadn’t even sent a notice so there should be no reason to even suspect that KID would be here.

“I just wanted to know why such a beautiful girl would look so lost.” He gave Kaito another killer smile and Kaito could feel his face flush. This man is criminal. 

“I have no idea what you mean.” Kaito averted his gaze out to the clear night sky. The moon wasn’t even half full but the winter night was bright.

“Hm, my hunches usually aren’t wrong.”

“Well, this one was.”

“If you say so.”

Kaito was about to say, ‘I do say so’, but something made him stop. He chanced a glance at Kudou; he was staring at the sky too. His face was soft in the moonlight, the usual tension eased. Kaito never got to see him like this, and he was usually the reason why. He found himself playing with his hair again, he found it soothing. He called Kudou the “Great Detective” for a reason.

“You promise not to tell anyone?” Kaito cringed out how quiet it came out, how obviously nervous.

“Cross my heart.” The words hung in the air for a while, Kaito desperately trying to regain control of the pounding of his heart. It was so loud he was sure that Kudou could hear it.

 “I guess I’ve just been overthinking a lot of things lately.” The words felt thick in his mouth, and they fought to stay in his throat. “I know everyone acts differently in front of others, but sometimes I feel like I’m an extreme case.” The irony that Kaito was saying this in a voice that was not his own was not lost on him. “My jobs requires me to be someone else, but all of those people are me in one way or another. So when I’m alone I guess I don’t really know who I am. Which one of those masks are actually my real face, you know?”

“Probably, not to the same extent as you, but yeah, I think I do. You would be amazed out how often.” Kudou let out a low chuckle. Kaito laughed too. It was sweet that Kudou was trying, but he highly doubted Kudou could understand this gnawing feeling Kaito had been trying to ignore for months.

He had been changing faces as KID for so long that when he was “himself” it started to feel like an act too. Especially in front of Aoko. The amount of times he wanted to tell Aoko about his plans for a heist, a trick he was developing for KID, were piling up. Not to mention all the times Aoko dragged him shopping but he found himself shopping for his different personas instead of his best friend. He’s caught her casting suspicious glances at him when he’s spent a little too long looking at clothes Aoko would never wear. But Yamagi would, although at this point that’s the same as saying that Kaito would. His appearance had become completely detached from who he actually was. Even as the faceless Kaitou KID he put on a mask.

“It’s harder when you have no one to lean on.” Kudou interrupted his thoughts. He was still facing forward, eyes to the sky, a soft smile on his lips. “But it’s hard to find someone to lean on when what you feel feels so earth-shattering. No one can carry the weight of the world but Atlas after all.” Kudou turned to look at him, still wearing a smile Kaito never had the privilege of seeing before. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of Kaito’s hair behind his ear, and Kaito shivered but not from the cold. Kudou let his hand linger on Kaito’s cheek, it’s warmth a stark contrast to the night chill. Kaito was sure now that Kudou could feel his racing pulse, and the sound of it nearly made Kaito miss the announcement that the auction was about to begin. It was a chance to escape, to slip away from this dreamlike moment and return to his reality.

“Kudou, I really appreciate what you did for me tonight, but I-”

“Of course, this is an auction after all. But what did you come here for?” Kaito contemplated it, it couldn't hurt to tell him, right? Kudou just thought he was an attractive young model-

He never told Kudou he was a model. He never had a chance, Kudou just said he was a model to the organizer. Did he just guess? He was a detective after all, and considering Yamagi’s height it wouldn’t be that big of a stretch… “A necklace,” Kaito said tentatively.

“I thought so,” Kudou was still so close to Kaito, he could feel the detective’s hot breath on his face as he breathed out a laugh. 

 “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but this is the first time we’re meeting, isn’t it?” Kaito tilted his head in the way that made most men swoon and gave Kudou a pretty little smile. If Kudou had suspicions he had to dissuade them as quickly as possible.

“Mmm, no. It isn’t.” Kudou’s lip pulled up into that smirk that made Kaito want to simultaneously flee and kiss him senseless. He reached into his pants pocket, and Kaito had to physically fight the urge to run as fast as possible. He did not need to make a scene. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. Stupid crush, making him act all stupid. He should have just thanked Kudou as quickly as possible and ran. He hadn’t made any announcements on purpose. And why had Kudou said ‘I thought so?’.

His thoughts were cut short as he felt hands brush the side of his neck and a weight fall onto his chest. Startled, he opened his eyes and took a step back. “What?” Kaito stammered, confused. Glancing down, he saw his target, glimmering in the moonlight. “What?” Kaito said again, searching Kudou’s eyes for answers.

“It really suits you, KID.” And Kaito probably would have run if Kudou’s voice hadn’t been so damn gentle. “I knew it would suit you as soon as I saw it.”

“Okay Meitantei, you’re going to have to break this one down for me.” Kaito said, with his own voice this time. It didn’t seem to faze Kudou.

“I knew it was you as soon as I saw you walk in. Your presence fills the room, KID, even if you don’t mean it too.”

“I think you’re the only person with that problem, Meitantei.”

“I would never call that a problem, KID. But after I saw you, I was sure you were here for something from the auction.”

“But I didn’t send a notice, how did you know I wasn’t just here for fun?”

“And free dessert? Just call it a hunch. And the knowledge that Nakamori was very excited to have some time off to spend with his daughter.” Kaito let out a sigh.

“I hate how much you know about me.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Oh, cocky now, aren’t we? So, what’s the catch, you’ve got me collared,” Kaito gestured at the very expensive piece of jewelry around his neck, “are you going to turn me in?”

“What, I can’t just get you a Christmas present?”

“Seriously? Shinichi, I know what the starting price for this was going to be, and I don’t want to know how much you paid to buy it before it could even be put on sale. This isn’t something you just give to your favorite rival.”

“Hmm, I suppose it isn’t. But rivals also don’t call each other by their first names.”

“I, um, well-”

“Look, KID, I like you. A lot. I’m drawn to you like a moth to a flame. I’ve come to terms with that now, and if the way you’ve reacted to me tonight was anything to go by, I might have a chance.”

“You haven’t been flirting with me all night because you think I’m a hot supermodel?”

“I’ve been flirting with you all night because you’re Kaitou KID. It’s just a bonus that I got to see you looking like a hot supermodel.”

“But that whole thing I said about-”

“I told you, KID, it’s so much easier to share it with someone, and I desperately want to be that someone. You’re not Atlas, and even if you were, I’d carry the world for you.”

“So you don’t care that I’m-”

“KID, you could fill in that blank with anything and my answer would be the same.”

“I’m the magician here,” Kaito laughed, “I’m supposed to be the one to leave you speechless.”

“I might know a way you could shut me up.” And there was that smirk again, but it no longer made him want to run. And so he kissed him senseless, underneath the bright December sky, where it felt like it was only the two of them in the entire world.

[ayanna-wild]

A Place To Call Home

Word Count: 1557

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Warnings: angst, possible trigger, fluff

A/N: Request from anonymous, And thank you all so much for being so supportive, screw the haters, you guys are amazing and I truly couldn't ask for better readers!

Tag list and Request are open!

Summary: He seldom came to this part of the city, where the people who resided would sooner rob him then help him. But he had a favor to collect on. While he waited to cross the street, he notices a small crowd of people and there you are at the center, torn clothes, dirty, and giving away all the money you had just collected from the crowd who had bought your art. He can't help but be curious and you soon find a persistent devil tailing after you. Wondering why you gave everything when it was clear you had nothing. 

..................................................................................

Lucifer sighed as he stood impatiently on the sidewalk. This light always seemed to take so long to change, with how old it looked he was surprised it even functioned at all anymore. He'd have crossed the street already, light be damned, if he didn't think someone might run him over. He wouldn't put it past anyone in this part of the city. Most watched him like greedy vultures, waiting for his demise, so they could swoop in and collect from his misery.

A small crowd of people gathered around someone who was sitting on a blanket. He didn't think much of it, they'd been there a while. He turned his attention back to the light, just in time to see it flicker before fizzing out all together. 

"Oh bloody hell." 

Lucifer glared at the wretched thing, looking both ways to see if he could safely cross. He wouldn't even be here if the Detective hadn't asked him to use one of his favors. He was beginning to regret agreeing. He'd been seconds from stepping off the broken concrete, and onto the street when he threw one last glance over his shoulder. The crowd had dispersed, and he saw the person at the center was now gathering their blanket. He watched you closely as you walked a few feet down, handing the cup of money in your hand to an elderly woman.

The two of you seemed to argue for a moment, but ultimately it seemed you won and you draped the worn blanket you carried over her shoulders. Lucifer watched you walk away curiously before changing his direction. He approached the older woman with a kind smile.

"Excuse me, do you know who that was?" He asked politely.

She regarded him closely for a moment, almost suspiciously.

"I do. What's it to you?" 

Lucifer smiled at the woman's attempt to be intimidating.

"I simply wish to ask her a few things is all."

He held his hands up, trying to show her he meant no harm to her or you.

"Her name is Y/N, she lives not far from here." 

"And does she do that often? Give her money away like that?" 

The woman shrugged, peering into the cup you'd given her.

"Yes, sometimes to me, sometimes to other people, I always tell that girl not to worry about me. She's worse off than I am. I've got my coat for the winter, but she insists on giving away her stuff. Her hard-earned money, she's talented, if her situation was different she'd have made a name for herself by now."

Lucifer was even more intrigued now, and he glanced down the street.

"There's a soup kitchen close by, poor funding but it provides at least three meals a week. Hardly anything, but it's enough to keep some skin on her bones."

Lucifer frowned a little at that, and the elderly lady began to gather her stuff.

"It's the alley by the old deli, you can't miss it, she's draped this old blue tarp over a few crates. Bit rough, but it gets the job done." 

Lucifer thanked the woman before going on his way. He looked around the area, searching for the place she had described. He found you, placing an unused trashed bag over a hole in your tarp. You didn't notice him lingering as you taped the bag down.

"Not exactly a five-star hotel is it?"

You jumped at the sound of his voice, turning to face him with unease. Lucifer took a step into the alley, making you take one back.

"Maybe not, but it does the trick."

He watched you shiver, saw the goosebumps on your skin as you stood there.

"I don't have any drawings left to sell if that's why you're here."

Lucifer looked around the place you called home.

"You don't have much of anything by the looks of it." He hummed.

Your unease was gone, replaced instead by annoyance and you crossed your arms. 

"It's better than what I had before... where I was before." 

Lucifer frowned, tilting his head.

"Anyway, if you're just here to comment on my living situation than kindly fuck off." 

Your words were bitter, a stark contrast to the actions you had displayed earlier. Lucifer walked closer to you, but you didn't seem as hesitant this time.

"I apologize that was rather rude of me, I assure you that isn't why I'm here."

"Then why are you?" You looked at him skeptically, like you didn't trust his words.

"I suppose your act of selflessness quipped my curiosity so, I've come to ask you why." 

You looked at him confused and a little lost, and he continued, further explaining himself.

"You gave that woman all the money you made, from those drawings I'm assuming you spent hours making. Then you gave her your blanket, which by the looks of things was your only source of warmth for the winter, despite how tattered the thin fabric was. I simply wish to know why that is. Why share everything when you have nothing to give?" 

You stared at him a moment, studying him as you tried to gauge if maybe he had ulterior motive beyond his question. However, it seemed he really was just curious.

"Her name is Edrsia, she's almost seventy-years-old. She's not on the streets by choice, her son took everything she had and pawned it off. Her husband passed years before, and she couldn't afford even a shoe box size apartment. She helped me, when I first started living on the streets. So, I give her what I can, whether I can spare it or not."

You expected him to be satisfied with your answer, maybe even leave you alone, but your response seemed to have the opposite effect.

"Yes but why? From what I can tell you're barely making it yourself. I simply cannot fathom why you'd give up what little you do have. Just because she helped you once, that hardly means you should risk your own well-being to return such a small act."

You smiled a little, offering a small shrug.

"I guess because it's just the human thing to do. I don't need a good reason to help someone, just a reason."

Lucifer pondered over your answer silently and you glanced back towards your makeshift tent.

"It's supposed to rain tonight, I really should-"

"Would you like a place to stay for a while?"

You almost tripped over yourself when you heard that.

"What?"

"Not for free of course, you see I rather like your art, and my bar could use a bit of...artistic flare."

You suspicion didn't go unnoticed by the handsome man, and he gave you a charming smile.

"The choice is yours, I'm merely offering you a warm place and a small job."

You mulled it over, he didn't come off as the type of person to play a joke this cruel. Yet, you suspected he had some underlining goal to this.

"What do you get out of this?"

Lucifer grinned, your question making him like you all the more.

"It's been my experience that humans can be rather selfish creatures, very few offer any real selflessness. If nothing else you can at least teach me a bit more about this side of humanity."

The deal seemed almost too good to be true, and a part of you wanted to refuse. But your shaking hands and the numbness in your limbs told you that you couldn't afford to be stubborn, not unless you wanted to freeze to death.

"Okay."

"Marvelous! Then if we have a deal-"

You shook your head, not moving to shake his outstretched hand.

"Not yet. I'm only agreeing if you help Edrsia, she doesn't have good health, she can't survive another year out here." 

Lucifer once again seemed surprised, but he nodded regardless.

"Consider it done, now do we have a deal?"

This time you did shake his hand, and let out a yelp when he tugged on your arm pulling you to his side. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, leading you down the street.

"Goodness you're chilled to the bone darling, here take this."

Lucifer released you to remove his jacket, but you shook your head looking almost ashamed.

"I live on the streets, showers aren't a luxury I can afford."

He ignored your protest draping the material over your shoulders, despite your words you quickly pulled it tighter around you.

"I don't mind my dear, it's not your fault."

You looked up at him smiling a bit.

"Thank you... I never got your name."

"Oh dear how rude of me to skip introductions, my name is Lucifer Morningstar."

"It's nice to meet you Lucifer, I'm Y/N."

He raised an eyebrow, but the smile never left his lips.

"No last name?" He inquired.

"Does it matter?" 

He hummed a little at your answer but didn't pry.

"I suppose not, well come on love, let's get you out of the cold."

You didn't argue when he placed a hand on your back, and you fought back grateful tears. Lucifer watched you from the corner of his eye, a soft smile on his lips, his heart swelling at the hope in your eyes.

Maybe you could teach the devil a thing or two about the better side of humanity.

..................................................................................

Tag List: @sallyp-53 @mizzezm @adira-secrets @we-are-all-alittle-strange-here @gingernarwal @im-just-along-for-the-ride @lifeshortbro @star-trek-is-my-lifesource @measure-in-pain @emiwrites3reads

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Punchable Face That I Want to Kiss, Ch. 3

<- Previous Chapter | Chapter 4 ->

Summary: Chilton thinks about you when he knows he’s going to die. 

1,849 words

“Do not come over tonight,” he said. Even through the bad cell phone connection, you could tell he was nervous, and it made you nervous.

“What’s the matter?”

“Or tomorrow night,” he continued. “Or ever. Stay away.”

“What?” Your heart sank. “What are you saying? I thought things were going well…”

“Only for the time being. You... may have been right,” his voice cracked ever-so-slightly. You knew it pained him to admit that, and the fact that he did made your blood go cold. “I think Hannibal Lecter is going to kill me. There is no reason for you to be there when it happens.”

Shit.

You worried when he started to believe Will Graham—ironically, the very thing you had wanted to begin with, but Will had changed, and you couldn't help suspect he was trying to get revenge on Chilton by roping him into investigating Hannibal Lecter. You were certain he at least didn’t care if Chilton was killed when Will started dangling fame and glory in front of his nose.

Chilton was too ambitious to resist the promise of fame and glory, and was the kind of fool to go poking his nose where it didn’t belong.

“Fuck that, I’m coming over. If we’re together, I can protect you.”

“Don’t. I am going to try to... Wait,” he paused, marveling, “you would do that for me?” His resolve firmed again, “Do not come. Please. Look, there is nothing connecting us except sex—good sex, mind you, but—you may not be on the Ripper’s radar. If you are close to me when he comes, he will only kill you, too. It’s not worth it. I do not want you caught up in this. Take the advice I should have: do not get involved.”

There was a click, and the call went dead.

You felt gutted.

 *****

 Frederick was the kind of man who spent all his nights and weekends alone, until you. It was pathetic to think you were his most stable relationship—not just currently, but of his entire life—when he had only known you for a few months.

That was not to say he was inexperienced.

He had fumbled with plenty of bras as a young legacy in a Harvard fraternity, and with fraternity brothers in dark closets, mostly under the influence of cheap alcohol (bought ironically, of course).

He dated in medical school, but there wasn’t much time for relationships when he was constantly studying twice as hard as everyone else just to stay in the middle of the class rankings instead of sinking to the bottom. Besides, in academia there was a full menu of up-and-coming doctors to choose from, and he was never found to be the most appetizing selection. Too bitter.

Family money opened all the right doors for him after graduating and starting his own practice. There, he could sit on top of his own throne without all the competition. Wealth and power finally made him a prime cut to the type who wanted to marry an important doctor, and the nurses and secretaries fell at his feet.

Unfortunately the type of person who, first and foremost, wanted an important doctor, was not interested in an emotional relationship—at least, the money came first.

Some sought the full package of money and romance, but those he always chased away after one or two dates. He found that anyone willing to tolerate his personality defects was the type to borrow his credit cards, ply him for gifts, demand a promotion, ignore him or cheat the moment he wasn’t buying something, and ultimately blackmail him for one final payout when even the money and status weren’t enough to tolerate being with him any longer.

It was fine, he told himself. He used them and they used him—it was how the game was played.

Then there was you.

Frederick Chilton always found you arrogant and unpleasant. He was an expert in his field, a respected psychiatrist who had discovered the Chesapeake Ripper in his facility, and you spoke to him as if he were a child!

(Well, assuming you swore so much at children. He wouldn’t know. children are filthy.)

Whenever he saw you entering his hospital, he knew he would need an extra glass of scotch to recover. You were fierce, never making a single effort to mask your intentions, whether it was tearing into him for (allegedly) unethical practices, or failing completely to mask your sexual attraction to him.

It had been a long time since anybody made a pass at him. Running an institution for the criminally insane was not widely considered sexy, and made his doctor-husband stock plummet—a fact for which he was grateful. Romance was hardly worth the effort, and he would rather be alone than pretend.

He should have shot you down. It would have delightfully changed the power dynamic—any time you insulted his methods, he could remind you of your embarrassing plea for his attention.

But in truth, he enjoyed sparring with you. The days you didn’t come rattle your sword at him were dull. Nobody else spoke to him so brazenly, even though many certainly shared your opinion. It was refreshing.

He’d been imagining ripping your clothes off for weeks.

This would be a one-time thing, he thought: another case of using and being used. He assumed you would call a taxi when it was over, but when he woke up in the morning your arms were wrapped around him with the sweetest smile on your lips. It was odd. It sort of made his chest ache even though he was sure he liked it.

This must have been what pity sex was like. Ah, the advantages of a cane!

Stranger still, you kept coming back to see him. A one-night stand turned into two, turned into three, until it became a habit—and you spent additional time with him for no particular reason he could discern. The sex was great, but fucking did not require staying the entire night to cuddle. When he was too busy working late to stop for dinner, much less for a sexual escapade, you showed up anyway, surprising him with a bag of fast food. It was greasy and barely edible, but thoughtful. You read a book in one of his leather chairs and ate all his fries while he typed reports into the night.

Surely you had other partners to choose from who would have been more entertaining. Your behavior was quite abnormal.

He knew you had an angle, but couldn’t figure out what it was. Breakfast, maybe?

The fact that he made you eggs and gourmet coffee didn’t seem enough to account for your always choosing to spend time with him. You said his house was nice, but even that wasn't enough. The equation was unbalanced. He never paid you, and you never demanded gifts—even when he offered them, you flatly refused. You would not let him so much as replace your cracked cellphone screen. You had always been so vehemently insistent about Will Graham’s innocence, but since you started sleeping with him you’d never asked for any favors, like moving Graham to a nicer cell or falsifying a psych evaluation.

He’d even had a full-blown panic attack in front of you. Something you could have used as leverage to threaten his very career. But you didn’t.

If you were ingratiating yourself with him for an ulterior motive, you were terrible at it.

Honestly, terrible. He wanted to give you pointers, but it would spoil the game. Unless—he considered the terribly disconcerting possibility—there was no game. You weren’t using him, you just had feelings for him. Real ones. It made him feel strange and off balance—if there was nothing transactional about the relationship, it was not something he could control. The thought disturbed him so much he nearly called the whole thing off, but something stopped him from picking up the phone. There was a squirming in his gut, and he didn’t like it.  

What did you possibly want from him? What reason did you have to care?

Was it pity?

Pity was the only answer that made sense. Pity made you want to protect him; you had said as much on that first morning. It explained your change from hostility to affection (usually it went the other way around), and why he hadn’t driven you away by now.

It was nice, he thought. He rather liked your pity.

He would have been happy basking in it for a long time, but… he made an error in judgment.

Chilton knew he had fucked up. He was so drawn in by Hannibal Lecter, trying to be his friend—trying to be like him—and all the while whispering sensitive information right into the Chesapeake Ripper’s ear. Then he had to go and listen to Will Graham, to show Jack Crawford that tape with evidence that seemed so solid at the time. But he was played. Hannibal knew he knew, and Chilton was the Judas who tried to sell him out.

He was dead meat. Literally.

He was dead, but you—you had believed Graham from the start, and stayed far away from Dr. Lecter. He was dead, but you didn’t have to go down with him. He could keep you safe. Out of the line of fire. The time you had spent together recently had been nice, and while he had no desire to die alone, the twisting in his gut insisted that he owed you that much for giving him so much of your time. This was the right reason to call things off.

One good deed could not make up for a life of misfortune and selfishness, but if he could save you from sharing his fate, then dying would not be the worst thing that could happen.

  *****

“Him? How can you honestly believe Frederick Chilton is capable of being a serial killer?!” you screamed in Jack Crawford’s face after he arrested the shaken psychiatrist. Since learning what had happened, you were… upset. “Are you stupid? He’s being framed, just like Will! That man does not have the constitution to make dioramas out of murdered bodies—he’s an anxious nerd who can’t even drink coffee unless it has been first digested by a civet!”

“Watch it, or I'm sending you home,” Crawford warned as the federal agent who would tolerate no disrespect, especially in the middle of an FBI field office. As Crawford the sensitive father figure, the edges of his hard stare softened with sympathy, and he pat you consolingly on the arm.

“At least let me see him!”

Crawford did his best to calm you down, reassuring you that Chilton would be investigated fairly using all the resources of his task force. So you tried to relax as the doctor was handcuffed and dragged into the bowels of the field office to be interrogated. Crawford guided his old protégé, Miriam Lass, into the observation room to confirm whether Dr. Chilton was in fact the Chesapeake Ripper who had held her hostage for three years, while you paced impatiently outside.

There came a loud bang.

[arinlangdon]

reactions again. i have a lot to say and there’s nowhere better to dump it all than my online blog which i treat as a stream-of-consciousness public diary/liveblog of my love affair with this fictional character.

episode 7

ah yes, the memory headaches are back, sooner than ever. i hope this means FMC will be regaining her memories sooner in this route too. i think it would be more interesting to see her navigate a route while remembering everything about her life from before, for multiple reasons. after all, every route ended with that, so far, and we didn’t explore much about what that means. the route that centers on 2/3 of the triad seems like the perfect opportunity to do so.

so Arin used to have panic attacks, confirmed? precious anxiety baby

love the Humpty Dumpty bit

i love how they reference giving her the moon again. “I gave it to you, and it’ll ground you” and it’s a secret between her and them how they did it. augh, too romantic. (also, blush count for this set: 1)

“Yikes, do you even sleep?” i ask myself this every day, Jackie. does Arin ever use that plush-looking bed? a mystery for the ages. she’s right though, Arin is far too busy for their own good. they know everything except for the meaning of the word “relaxation”

i see we’re speaking in code now. i love Ever After Academy, the series where frogs are really head librarians and rabbits are actually cat-dog-rabbit-dragon-things, and men named Wolf aren’t actually werewolves

“Arin constantly skips meals due to being too busy” headcanon regretfully confirmed. Arin nO

“FMC is always trying weird new flavors of desserts” headcanon also confirmed lol. this girl, always so adventurous. but also, “better than getting the same thing every time”? it’s true, novelty is necessary. a woman after my own heart.

oh yes, now i can check “heart scene where you help Arin relax and have fun” off my wish list. right above that is “pluck the coffee right out of their hands, march them straight to bed and tuck them in, and maybe cuddle a bit”, and right below it is “plan a special date where you block off a full 24 hours of free time for Arin so you can spend the whole day together”. (Voltage, i have great ideas, hire me now)

Arin blush count: 2. oh look at these two shy idiots who can only dance around their feelings. surely they have to have some clue that their feelings are mutual? they keep trying to stop themselves from kissing the other. it’s driving me nuts. these fools! i push them together like a child pretending to make their dolls kiss.

episode 8

i’m sure they wrote in the explanation for the terrarium as it’s a holdover from Ezra’s route, but i think it’s funny to think that the siblings kept the terrarium all these years and Arin never knew about it. Arin ur not the only one with secrets

again, i do like how Arin keeps referencing the moon. moon rabbit. moon rabbit!!

oh here comes the angst from Arin keeping secrets from FMC for good reasons but not even being able to tell her the reasons. we all saw this coming from a mile away, but it still hurts. :(

wow i cannot wait to find out all of Arin’s secrets :D including their personal ones. (does that make me sound creepy? oops)

more dragon lore, and a debate between Nora and Lucas about dragons? yes please.

as an aside: i can’t believe it’s taken me this long to mention it, but i’m peeved at how the writing in this route keeps referring to Arin as “themselves” when they’re singular. “themself” may not be a familiar word, but it feels the most correct when referring to an individual. “herselves” and “himselves” isn’t a thing.

“Arin is a terrible singer” headcanon confirmed. Arin has a lovely voice but is a rubbish singer, i love it. keep the doors coming, Charlie, i’m on a roll today.

oh god, more embarrassing Arin stories, i am living for this. Arin blush count: 3, maybe 4. what exactly did they wind up on top of, FMC? do tell.

i cannot believe Arin has early 2000s boy band music on their phone. is this the real life? lmao this is probably the most surprising fact i’ve learned about them in this entire set, if not the whole route so far. Arin’s dignity: dropping like a stone. this is hilarious, i love it. god. seriously though, which song was it—

episode 9

can’t help but try to read ulterior motives into Jackie’s every move, and failing because we don’t know enough yet. trying to book a tutoring session with Arin, peeping into FMC’s house’s window, tipping off FMC about Darla’s scheming, being overly invested in the fairytale friends’ well-being? she’s the prime suspect for being the Big Bad of this route, and possibly the Queen of Hearts from the Alice duology, yet she hasn’t done anything outright villainous yet. she’s actually been fairly friendly and helpful. Jackie, what is your deal

Arin blush count: 5. wow careful Arin, your face will get stuck like that and you’ll pass out from lack of blood flow to the rest of your body

it’s still hard getting used to the knowledge that Arin is and was FMC’s best friend. it boggles my mind.

but also i want to imagine them as kiddos hanging out in her room and having fun. adorable. teen flashbacks when :’(

“you’re special to me” wow surefire arrow to my heart oof. Arin blush count: 6.

oh no, again with the holding back, you clods. you lovestruck idiots. you silly dumdums. being a 20-something and having feelings for your best friend is hard. it’s hard and nobody understands. :( when are they going to talk about this? when are they going to come out and say something?? normally FMC is much more straightforward than this, but i guess when it comes to a friendship you’ve cultivated for years, even the bravest people hesitate to rock the boat. but it’ll be all the more satisfying when they actually reach that point.

watching Arin put up the walls again, i can just hear them thinking “conceal, don’t feel”. “remove all magic, but leave the fun” ahahaha alright that’s enough

it’s nice to see FMC seeking out the company and advice of the fairytale trio in this route, especially Nora. those girls, always so close. she really is the only female friend FMC has, until Darla becomes her friend.

so much for hiding magic from MMC! cat’s out the bag sooner than i thought, and Arin’s not going to be happy about it. now they’re going to be pulling double duty trying to keep both siblings from a-sploding their heads by accident. poor Arin

did FMC explain the plan for making things right (whatever “things” are) and restoring their memories? or did she just leave them to wait it out indefinitely? oh no