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#if someone tags this as ship I'll break your spine
kay-elle-cee · 6 months
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20 questions for Fic Writers
Thank you to @annabtg and @mppmaraudergirl for the tag, this was so fun to go through and think about!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
22! (which is my favorite number, yay!) 4 of these are ficlet/micro collections though.
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
237,930 words
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Harry Potter! I've written for others before, and I keep saying I'm going to go back to Pirates of the Caribbean but the Jily brainrot has such a hold on me I don't know if it's going to happen.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Things That Haven't Happened Yet i'll be fine, i'll be good A Thrill Divine, Down My Spine no, i could never give you peace restless waves rise and fall
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Always always always! I so appreciate everyone reading, but when you COMMENT? You took time out of your day to TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT? 💕💕💕💕 All the love in the WORLD from me!
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Hmmmm so listen, let's have a chat. I love angst—that's not surprising anyone. But I also love the HAPPINESS at the end. So even if it's not downright happy, it's usually at least hopeful. But also with that said, probably this micro. (or also maybe this oneshot)
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Happiest? Instinctively I wanted to say Magic Like This but it's still canon-verse so.....I'm going to go with my waves meet your shore (forever and evermore), which is a oneshot in my Pirate Jily universe. It wasn't even supposed to BE this happy, they just took the reins from me.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
I do not (or rather, I haven't yet), and I feel incredibly fortunate for that. I'm sure the day will come, though!
9. Do you write smut. If so, what kind?
@athenasparrow prodded me into it and I do now! I only write Jily, so M/F, and it's pretty tame, all things considered 😅
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
RIP to my Titanic x Jily crossover I started when I was 13 and never finished. Crossovers don't hold any appeal to me, personally (though I guess at age 13 I thought differently.)
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of!
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I had a request from someone to translate Things That Haven't Happened Yet into Russian, but I'm not sure if it ever happened.
13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
Not in the Jily fandom! When I was 13 my friends and I passed a journal around and round-robined a Harry Potter fic. And then a few years later in another fandom I collabed with another author but she ended up having to see the thing through because I had to study for my SATs (and I started dating Mr. Kelsey and he started taking up all my free time OOPS).
14. What's your all-time favorite ship?
Jily! (though Willabeth does have a strong hold on me still to this day)
15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
I'm still optimistic about all my WIPs. 😅 Evans Sisters Bakery is one I really want to figure out—I have a few pieces written, but the plot just isn't working for me. I really hope to shake it all out next year. The one that's furthest in the backseat is probably but if the story's over, why am i still writing pages? which I've shared excerpts from (Lily and James break up seventh year, still love each other though. It's very angsty and there's lots of secret meetings regardless of the breakup).
16. What are your writing strengths?
Oh man, I don't know. Dialogue, maybe? I like to think my dialogue reads natural. Also I think I'm good at bringing the angst in a way that makes sense for the characters and not just writing angst for angst's sake. (But you tell me if I'm wrong! 😂)
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Descriptions. I'm not great at scene setting. I want to get to the action/emotions/conflict like immediately lol.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
If I could do it believably? I'd give it a shot. But I can't so I won't!
19. First Fandom you wrote for?
Harry Potter! (Harmony fans RISE @suzyq31).
20. Favorite fic you've ever written?
I answered this written and I PROMISE it's not recency bias, but i'll be fine, i'll be good is so incredibly close to my heart and is the fic I've worked longest and most carefully on, so...that one.
Tagging @cascader @alittlebitofeverything23 @sunshinemarauder @isahorcrux if you feel up for it!
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Baking
Ship: Arlecchino x April | Word Count: 664 | Warnings/Tags: Food mention (like heavily)
A/N: Here's the little fic I promised~ Just cute fluff basically :3 I hope you enjoy it!! <3
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"Well, it looks like someone's been busy…" Arlecchino's voice rings out in the kitchen, making April jump a little in surprise. She smiles briefly at her girlfriend before returning to her task of cutting out cookies into different shapes.
Leaving her to it, Arlecchino approaches the paper on the island, her expression softening as she recognizes what exactly April's doing. Some of the treats are more generic - things that more people would like, and are clearly meant for the holiday dinner for the House of the Hearth later that week.
The others, however, are specific. She sees her own name penned beautifully on the page with a small list of different treats under it, along with Lyney's, Lynette's, and Freminet's. Arlecchino would ordinarily be curious about why April's own siblings aren't on this list, but she's well aware that those desserts were made and given out before their trip to Fontaine.
Once the cookies have been put into the oven, arms wrap around Arlecchino's waist, along with a head settling against her shoulder. "Anything you want to add to your list?" April asks softly, making the Knave chuckle softly.
"It looks perfectly fine, though… I've noticed a certain little treat not on it," Arlecchino says, her voice soft and teasing.
For a second, the words fly over April's head, and it's only while she's scanning the list that they sink in properly. Her cheeks turn a faint shade of red, and she buries her face against Arlecchino's shoulder, a soft whining sound leaving her throat.
Her response makes Arlecchino laugh a little louder, and she turns to pull the smaller woman into her arms properly. "I'm teasing… mostly," She murmurs, placing a little kiss on top of April's head.
"Mm…" April grumbles softly, softening at that kiss. "We can discuss that more later…" She murmurs, rolling her eyes playfully at the way Arlecchino smirks in response. "But in the meantime… we have a little time to kill until those cookies are ready."
"Oh? And what are you suggesting we do to kill time, hm?" Arlecchino asks, leaning down a little until their lips brush just barely.
If April had any other idea, it would have changed instantly at the faint touch of Arlecchino's lips. She hums contently and kisses her partner properly, her arms tightening around her. "Just don't distract me too much," She murmurs against her lips. "We don't want them burning…"
"I wouldn't dream of it," Arlecchino murmurs, deft fingers gently tracing patterns over April's spine in a way that makes the smaller woman shiver.
The two indulge in each other's company until the timer goes off, neither of them particularly wanting to separate when it does. Still, Arlecchino lets April go rescue the cookies and set them out to cool before coming over and hugging her from behind.
"Are those mine?" She asks softly, recognizing the type of cookie immediately.
"Mhm. This batch is, at least. I'll make another for the dinner later…" April replies, leaning back against Arlecchino.
"You're too good to me…" Arlecchino murmurs, reaching out for one of the still-hot cookies, one in the shape of a snowflake and breaks it in half. She eats one half, not bothered by how warm the cookie still is, and she hums in contentment. "Delicious as always…"
April shivers a little and laughs when Arlecchino presses the other half to her lips. "Careful…" Arlecchino murmurs, watching as April takes a bite, which it's thankfully cooled enough that she can handle it.
Once April's polished off the cookie, Arlecchino presses a kiss against her shoulder. "Now… I suppose I'll keep you company while you work. It'd get dreadfully boring being in here all by yourself."
April laughs softly, already knowing that she's going to be pulled into several impromptu dances and make-out sessions during the rest of the day. "Sounds good to me," She replies, excited to spend some time with her beloved.
It's the perfect way to spend an afternoon…
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ninja-go-to-therapy · 3 years
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Whumptober 27: Okay, Who Had Natural Disasters On Their 2020 Bingo Card?
Earthquake
This one was an absolute delight to write. I just love this type of fic. Thanks to LovelyStressedPrincess for feeding me ideas and writing a couple of the paragraphs.
Summary: MK wakes up to an earthquake. At first he writes it off as paranoia, but as the day progresses, he can't help but feel like he's been here before.
Trigger Warnings: serious injury, mild self harm
2537 words
MK woke up to the world shaking. Books were thrown from his shelves, various trinkets going everywhere.
Oh shit, was this an — earthquake. The word left a gross sense of deja vu. 
The earthquake stopped almost as quickly as it started.
Warily, he dressed himself, praying there wouldn’t be another one. This had been rather tame for an earthquake.
He hurried downstairs, not wanting to be late for work.
When he saw that the shop, too, was a complete and total mess, he couldn’t help but be a little bit relieved. 
In the calabash, nobody but him had been affected by the “earthquakes”. This meant that it had actually been real.
Thank god.
“Kid, are you okay?” Pigsy asked.
MK snapped out of his thoughts. “What?”
“The earthquake, are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said.
Pigsy seemed satisfied. “Good. Let’s get started on cleaning this mess. I won’t have customers thinking we’re slobs!”
MK laughed breathlessly. Yeah, that was definitely Pigsy. There was absolutely nothing to worry about! Everything was all good.
An hour later, the shop was totally spick and span. Luckily, the earthquake hadn’t done too much damage.
From there, MK went on with his job, delivering noodles to people all across town. Rush hour had traffic, and there were no free samples.
Still, the earthquake had him on edge. But there was nothing to worry about. He was sure there was nothing to worry about.
The day proceeded to be almost painstakingly average. No horrible demons attacked, and he didn’t have to deal with any Karens at work. It was just… normal.
Almost suspiciously so.
At the end of his shift, Mei showed up. That was odd, wasn’t she supposed to have been busy? He could have sworn she was doing something today.
“Are you ready?” She asked, bouncing on her heels.
“Uh… ready for what?”
Mei laughed. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”
“Forgot…?”
“That event the arcade is holding? You know, the one we’ve been talking about for weeks?”
MK’s blood went cold.
There was no event. He’d never made plans with Mei. He was sure of it.
He would have remembered if he had, which meant… no, no, this was the only strange thing that had happened, it didn’t mean anything…
But what if it did?
What if he was trapped again? What if this was all fake? The earthquake, the complete and total perfect normalcy of the day… 
Okay. Alright okay, there was an easy way to figure this out. He just needed to check for his staff.
Mei watched, looking somewhat concerned, as he reached for the staff. Only… it wasn’t there.
“Where’s the staff?” He asked, panic beginning to set in. 
“Locking away DBK,” Mr. Tang supplied from across the room as he slurped down his noodles. “Are you feeling alright, MK? You look a little… ill.”
He had never done that. He’d never defeated DBK, not for real. It wasn’t true. They were lying to him, none of this was real.
“I’m fine,” he squeaked, backing away very, very slowly. 
“Kid?”
He snapped around, coming face-to-face with Pigsy, who looked just as concerned as the other two.
Oh god, he was being boxed in, they were going to hurt him, they wouldn’t want to let him leave.
He forced his breathing to slow, and he gave the most natural smile he could muster. If he could convince them that he wasn’t onto them, he could buy himself some time.
“Everything’s good!” He said. “Sorry, I dunno what got into me! Anyways, I should probably make this last noodle delivery! I’ll be back soon for our thing, Mei!”
“If you’re sure…” Mei finally said, looking unconvinced.
“Please, I’ll be as quick as a bunny! You know how great I am at noodle deliveries, after all,” he said, as if he thought the concern was him not making it back in time. If he just kept playing dumb, everything would be fine. He just needed to get away.
He grabbed the bag of food, getting into his cart as calmly as possible. 
Almost there almost there almost there.
Finally, he deemed himself a good distance from them. He didn’t know to what extent the demons had control over this… realm? Pocket dimension? Illusion? But he had to figure this out quick, before they realized he knew what was up.
Still, he couldn’t stop the panic from growing. Everything was so much more natural than last time. Had he not been here before, he probably would have just written it all off as a bump on the head.
But he knew better. He wasn’t stupid.
He came to a stop on the side of the road, putting his head on the steering wheel.
He needed to go. But he needed to stop. Why was he freaking out so much? He’d been here before, this would be a piece of cake. 
But his breathing refused to calm, and he was pretty sure he was going to vomit.
Deep breaths, he demanded of himself. Deep. Breaths.
“MK?”
He looked up, his knuckles going white from how hard he was gripping the wheel. 
“Monkey King,” he greeted stiffly, swallowing down his fear.
“Well that’s a little formal,” he laughed.
MK just looked at him, ignoring his comment in favor of trying to determine what to do. Fake or not, Monkey King was too strong for him to fight. Especially without his staff.
Monkey King frowned. “You seem—”
Agitated, MK thought with a growing sense of dread. He was going to say that. Jin and Yin were just taunting him, they were playing with him, they were letting him know—
“Worried.”
Instead of comforting him, MK only felt the sense of nausea swirling in his stomach get worse. They had gotten smarter.
That wasn't good.
“Mhmm,” he agreed, not trusting himself to speak.
“Did something happen?”
Besides being trapped in an evil artifact again? Besides the fact that the world around him was completely and utterly fake? Besides knowing that everyone here was nothing but a lie?
“Nope!” He forced out. “Just had a long night!”
He needed to get his staff he needed to get out he needed to run.
“Anyway, I’vegottodeliverthesenoodlesbye.” He didn’t give Monkey King a chance to stop him, speeding off in his cart as fast as it would take him. By the grace of the heavens, he didn’t follow him.
Okay. Tang had said his staff was on the mountain. He found it a little odd that the demons would put it right back where it had been last time, but hopefully that would make it easier for him. If last time’s experience had taught him anything, it was that he would have to be fast.
He didn’t know how quickly Jin and Yin would send his “friends” after him. He glared at the street. Friends. They were nothing but empty shells, puppets on strings. That may have been the most cruel part of all. Trying to make him believe that the people he loved were real.
Focus MK. Just get to the mountain.
He could do this.
He continued to drive, trying hard to force all other thoughts out of his head. It was hard to not think about things when you were thinking about not thinking about them.
It was hard not to focus on the fact that he was trapped in a tiny world controlled by two people who were intent on destroying him, who were holding his life in their hands, who were manipulating and playing with it like putty, who wanted him to suffer and not know it until the very last moment.
Tears pushed at his eyes. It wouldn’t be like last time. He’d figured it out way faster, and now he was going to put an end to it.
This didn’t help to calm the panic.
Jin and Yin had done a better job this time. They were smarter. This could only mean horrible things for him if he let it go on any further.
He pulled to a stop again, squeezing his eyes shut. He just needed a minute. He just needed a quick minute. Everything was gonna be fine.
He covered his eyes with his hand, as if it would block the tears. It really only served to make his hand wet.
Shakily, he ran his other hand through his hair, flinching when a sharp burst of pain came from it. 
Carefully, he touched that spot again. There was a large, really fucking painful bump. When had that happened? He didn’t remember hitting his head… 
Whatever, he could worry about it later. Right now, he needed to pull himself together and get the hell to the mountain before he was caught.
He couldn’t manage to stop crying, but the tears had at least slowed enough that he felt he could drive again. His vision was only slightly blurry.
Just as he pulled up to the construction site, his phone rang.
“Um… hello?” he asked, cursing himself when he choked up. Fuck, now they would know he’d been crying.
“Kid? You okay?” Pigsy asked from the other end of the line.
“I’m—” so scared “fine.” He forced down a bitter laugh. They really had gotten smarter. A worried phone call instead of all his friends randomly showing up to stop him from taking back his staff, yeah, that was clever. But he wasn’t stupid. He was going to get out of here, and he was going to go home.
“Okay, great, care to tell me why this tracker app says you’re hanging around at that construction site instead of doing your job?” Pigsy asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.
“I’m not stupid!” MK yelled, unable to hold himself back. He all but flung himself into the elevator, directing it down. “You can’t keep me in here this time!”
“What?”
“You can’t trick me that easily again!”
“Kid, hold on, I’ll be right there—”
“Don’t even try it!”
He hung up, glaring at his dark phone screen as the elevator continued to descend.
And then, out of nowhere, it stopped.
“Come on, you stupid piece of junk!” he begged, “Work!”
Oh god. He’d given himself away, and if he didn’t get to the ground in time, they’d catch up with him. Fuck fuck fuck, he was so stupid, why had he done that?
He looked down, weighing his options. He couldn’t jump, not without his staff. He’d break something for sure.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. He kicked the wall of the elevator as if that would do something. 
He was a sitting duck. For a few, dreadful minutes, he sat there, contemplating his options. He was going to throw up.
“MK?” he heard.
No.
“Are you here? Pigsy sent me since I was already nearby.”
No no no, he wasn’t letting not-Mei ruin everything.
“MK?”
He covered his mouth, hoping it would quiet down his breathing. He couldn’t make a sound.
He heard Mei fiddling with the lever of the elevator. “Move, you stupid…” she gave it a kick, and then it started to move. Up.
No!
He didn’t have a choice. He forced the gate open, tumbling out and to the ground. 
The resounding crack echoed loudly.
“MK, oh my god!”
He scrambled to his feet, whimpering through the pain, limping frantically for the staff. Almost there, almost there—
“Kid, stop! What is he doing?”
“He’s going crazy, he just jumped from this thing!”
“Holy shit, MK, stop!”
He tuned out their words, forcing back the tears and the pain. Almost there. Just a little closer—
Someone grabbed him.
“No!” he screamed, wrenching himself from their grip. They only grabbed him again.
“MK, bud, take a deep breath. Can you do that?”
Monkey King was here why was Monkey King here he wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t all fake. 
“Let me go!” he screamed, twisting out of his mentor’s hold once more, barely making it two steps before he fell to the ground.
His not-friends were surrounding him.
He couldn’t breathe, they weren’t going to let him get to that staff, he could barely even think through the pain, he needed to move, but he couldn’t.
“Give him some air!” Pigsy demanded, pushing Monkey King to the side as he kneeled beside MK. “Kid, look at me.”
MK squeezed his eyes shut tight. “You c-can’t trick me, not again,” he whispered.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb! I know! I told you I know! Give it up already!” he sobbed, clutching his leg.
They were trying so hard to save this, it was almost pathetic. They’d gotten Pigsy just right this time, too.
He loosened his grip on his leg, slowly sitting up.
“Hey, hey, be careful—”
He bolted. He shot to his feet and ran for the staff, holding back every scream and every sob. He could hurt when he was free.
His fingers brushed against the staff—
He was yanked back.
Mei was there, holding her blade. “We can’t let you do this,” she whispered.
“You can’t stop me this time!”
He threw a punch, actually managing to land a hit on her. She looked shocked and horrified and scared all rolled into one.
“MK,” Tang said, approaching him with his hands up, as if to show that he wasn’t a threat. “You need to calm down so we can look at your leg.”
MK had to give the demons props. Tang really did look scared. 
“Stay. Away from me!”
Mei put a hand on his shoulder. “We just want to help,” she insisted.
Without thinking, he kicked her with his bad leg, nearly falling to the ground himself with the pain. Still, he scrambled for the staff once more.
Monkey King forced him to the ground. “Enough!” he shouted.
MK didn’t listen to him, crying so hard from the pain that he couldn’t see straight. He kicked, and screamed, and fought, but Monkey King, real or not, was so much stronger than him. He was helpless.
“Just kill me!” he sobbed, thrashing in Monkey King’s grip. “Just kill me!” he begged again. “I know that’s what you want! Just do it!”
Monkey King recoiled. “Where would you even get that idea? Kid, it’s me. I would never want you to be hurt. But you’re hurting yourself by doing this.”
MK thrashed harder, his sobs making his whole body shake and tremble. His leg twisted in the wrong way.
He screamed, the sound ripping from his throat painfully. His breathing picked up, he was hyperventilating again, get off him get off him get off him he needed to get out please let him go he wanted to go home he wanted to be in reality again.
“We need to get him to a hospital,” Tang said, from somewhere to his right.
“Mei, call an ambulance,” Pigsy said, looking over MK worriedly.
“No!” he sobbed, weakly fighting back. It hurt so much. He was beginning to get tired. “Let me go, kill me, please…”
“Help is on the way, bud,” Monkey King said.
In one last attempt, MK reached weakly for the staff, even as darkness began to overtake his vision.
He had been so close.
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bruhstories · 3 years
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Vogel und Jäger
- PART THREE
Summary: You had your first show at Zeke's club, but things begin to complicate. Pairing: Zeke Jeager x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: language, Floch is a creep Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: as always, make sure to read parts one and two to understand just what the hell is happening. the songs reader is singing in this chapter are flickers and easy by son lux, which i've linked down below if you wanna listen to it as you read
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For five long days you switched between training with Mikasa and practising with the band. The deadly assassin made you work hard, teaching you various techniques of martial arts, as well as how to load and unload guns, how to aim, how to use knives and even how to use crossbows. You were no match to anyone else in the family, getting your ass kicked even by Armin, the bookkeeper, but you were not going to give up. Your will to survive fuelled you. What you weren’t expecting in those five days was to get to know Mikasa and Armin, and realise that they were just as normal as you were — with the added benefit of being properly trained in marksmanship and combat. And they were surprisingly nice to you, but there was a hint of reluctance in their actions and words.
Friday night you had your first show and you found yourself in the backstage, a knot in your throat as you did your makeup. The idea of Yelena blowing your brains out was a lot more pleasant than having to perform in front of so many people. Posters had been put up all over Paradis City announcing your first show at Wings Club, and you knew lots of undercover policemen would be there, perhaps even undercover Marleyans. But for some odd reason, you wanted to please Zeke, make him proud of sparing your pathetic life. Onyankopon told you to be ready in five minutes, and your heart sank, wiping your sweaty palms on the crimson dress.
"You'll do fine." He told you, but you had a bad feeling. There were guards everywhere, so you felt somewhat safe, but stage fright settled in your heart, and you couldn't even reply anything back. All you did was remain stuck in a trance.
The band was ready, the microphone was on, and you waited for the curtain to rise. Someone announced your performance, and the violinist began playing the notes of the first song as the spectators waited eagerly. There were no original songs, only jazz covers, and you felt every single pair of irises burning into your skin. You closed your eyes, imagining no one was there but you and the band, everyone else disappeared.
"And with my opened mouth I join the singing light..."
There was no turning back now. You'd done it. The spotlight was on you and you alone. Soon the pianist joined, and you felt a bit more confident.
"I can see the flickers, over me the lantern raised... Lift me up, lift me over it. Show me what you're hiding, take me out into the sea... Lift me up, lift me over it."
Somewhere upstairs, Zeke was watching over you, door wide open to hear your beautiful voice hypnotising every man and woman in the club. Indeed, he made the right choice.
"And with my opened mouth I join the singing light..."
You were in a trance. Nothing mattered anymore but the music, the vibrations, the thrill of the show. It was giving you a sense of importance and belonging, and in that moment, you knew it — you were thriving off of the attention, the way no one dared to move while you sang. You captivated the spectators with your voice, you captivated Zeke with your voice.
"I can see the flickers, over me the lantern raised... Lift me up, lift me over it. Show me what you're hiding, take me out into the sea... Lift me up, lift me over it."
You finally opened your eyes, drinking in the way everyone was silent, the only sound resonating being the final notes from the musical instruments. The next songs came so much easier to you, some were more upbeat and you stopped being stiff, your hands moving up and down the microphone pole, hips swaying, head tilting. You ended your performance with another emotional song, and even you had goosebumps on your skin as you began to sing.
"Easy... easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy..."
You saw them, the two cops from the files. They were watching you like hawks, sending chills down your spine. But you were a distraction, so you looked them in the eye, a smile on your plump lips.
"Easy, easy... You break the bridle to make losing control easy, easy... Crushed what you're holding so you can say letting go is easy, easy..."
The song was coming to an end. You wrapped your arms around yourself to emphasise the emotions you were so gently transmitting, voice echoing in the club.
"Oh, easy, easy... Burn all your things to make the fight to forget easy, oh, easy... Burn all your things to make the fight to forget easy, easy..."
You weren't just transmitting an emotion, you were feeling it, too. The song resonated with your life, your struggles, your issues. You were alone most of your life, save for Historia and the children. But now... now you had someone, albeit being forced to work for the mafia. But you weren't alone anymore.
"Easy... easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy..."
You bowed in front of the crowd as a round of applause replaced your voice and music. It was exhilarating, the adrenaline not wanting to leave your body. You mumbled a soft thank you in the microphone before leaving the stage, tripping on the last step. Onyankopon was waiting for you with a large bouquet of peonies and daffodils, your eyes widening at the beautiful flowers and sweet scent.
"This is for you, miss." He smiled, but his smile was hiding something and you couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.
"Thank you, but you didn't have to!"
"Oh, it's not from me." Onyankopon pursed his lips. There it was. You looked at the card attached to the bouquet — You are as radiating as the sun, but as cold as the moon. E.S. The message was written in perfectly neat calligraphy.
"E.S.? Any idea who that might be?" You tucked the card between the flowers as you walked with the mobster in the dressing room.
"I know exactly who that is." He sighed, eyes narrowing at the bouquet. "Inspector Erwin Smith, chief of police. He handed me the flowers personally."
"Isn't he working for you?" You removed the heavy earrings from your earlobes.
"He is. It appears he likes you." Onyankopon folded his arms across his chest and a man with strawberry-blond hair entered the room, earning disgusted looks from all the half-naked girls there.
"Boss wants to see you." He sneered at you, goosebumps dotting your arms.
"We'll be upstairs soon, Floch."
"No, not you. Just birdie. Chop chop." Floch left the room and you got up. Onyankopon grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks before giving you a concerned gaze.
"Be careful around him. He's... strange."
"I'll keep my guard up." You tried to smile. There were lots of things you didn't know about the men you were working with, so you made a mental note to ask Sasha and Connie about Floch.
"So, I hear you're a prostitute." He bluntly stated, and you flinched at his words. The audacity of this bitch!
"Was." You corrected him. "Besides, it's none of your business."
Your shoulder blades met with a wall and you let out a whimper at the impact. Floch eyed you up and down, his hands holding you in place.
"Everything you do is my business." He sneered, his face leaning closer inch by inch, closing the gap between you. "Ah, you even smell like a whore."
You feel disgusted by that creep, the way he sniffed you twisting your lips into a frown. Onyankopon was right to warn you, and so you slap his face, hard.
"Don't touch me again." You lifted your gown above your ankles and walked up the stairs, with Floch behind you. Fucking pervert.
"Ah, little bird, you've been fantastic!" Zeke greeted you, cigarette between his fingers. "I heard you even received flowers."
"Yes, from Erwin Smith." You nod, eyes on Floch's shit-eating grin.
"Good. I want you to meet with him after your show tomorrow." Your boss smiled and your eyes drifted to the healing wound in your left hand. You knew you caouldn't say no. "I suspect he'll want to recruit you as a double agent."
"Do I accept?"
"Of course, but you'll be telling him exactly what I tell you."
"Understood."
"You may go. Don't forget to take your pay from Armin."
"Yes, sir." You gently bowed your head in respect and left. Floch whispered whoreas you passed him and you gritted your teeth.
"Say, Connie, can I ask you something?" You watched your roommate unbox some bottles of fancy liquor.
"Sure! What's on your mind?" He asked, focused on his task.
"What can you tell me about Floch?"
Connie almost dropped the bottle, his eyes finding yours. "Just that you should stay away from him."
Sasha walked in with what you assumed to be a bag full of drugs and that's when it clicked — they were going to put the drugs in the boxes and ship them. Clever.
"Floch is insane." The brown-eyed girl scrunched her nose. "He's obsessed with Eren and thinks Zeke should step down and let his brother take his place. Why? Did he do anything to you?"
"Yes and no." You proceeded to explain what happened back at the club to your roommates and the look of disgust on their faces only confirmed what you assumed.
So far, you decided to only trust Sasha, Connie and Onyankopon, and hope that Zeke wouldn't give up his title. Otherwise, you'd end up dead in a ditch, and the one who’d put a bullet between your eyes was Floch himself.
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