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drama-glob · 2 months

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Something was up with Fuchsia.

She kept blushing, flushing an even deeper shade of pink than her already magenta skin every time Holly looked at her. It’d been about two weeks since Fuchsia saved Holly on the flyer derby field, but this had been happening for a while now.

There was no way… was there?? Could Fuchsia really feel the same way???

If Azura was right, that would be wild.

For the past month and a half, ever since her conversation with Azura when she realized that she had actual romantic feelings for Fuchsia, Holly’s every waking thought was about Fuchsia. Wow, Fuchsia is so sweet. Wow, Fuchsia is really good at drawing. Or, Wow, Fuchsia is really strong? Oh, my Titan. Azura called her a “disaster,” which is likely a fair assessment. Thankfully, though, Azura had since been around her and Fuchsia enough to realize that Fuchsia’s change in heart was truly sincere. Azura gave Holly her blessing.

“And,” Zuzu added one afternoon as they were walking home from school, “if how her expression changes when she sees you is any indication, I think you’re good.”

Holly blushed all afternoon.

-----

To make things worse, it wasn’t like Fuchsia would leave Holly alone, either. It wasn’t bad, of course, not anymore. But it was always, “Hi Holly!” or “Holly, that was a great answer in class today!” or “Wow, Holly, you’re so quick on your feet!” or “Mother of Titan, Holly, you know how to get everyone motivated, don’t you?” or “Wow, Holly, you look really great today!” or “Oh, Holly, you’re amazing—”

Okay maybe the last one was in her head. Maybe it wasn’t? There was one afternoon about a month ago in their potions class where Holly could have sworn she was awake for but it might’ve been a dream, so she’s not entirely sure.

Either way, things were getting out of hand.

She thought as much to herself at lunch one day as she sat next to Azura.

“You can say that again, Hol. Every time you’re in the same room as her it’s like your brain goes to the human realm,” Azura said, interrupting her mind’s wandering down a path where every stone along it had Fuchsia’s face carved into it.

“Did I say that out loud?” Holly asked sheepishly.

Azura leveled a look at her. “Girl, if you keep doing that, you might not even have to wait for her to confess to you.” Thinking for a second, she added, “well you might, because she’s just as oblivious and stubborn as you are.”

Holly was about to bite back with, “Hey, Fuchsia isn’t that stubborn” when the girl in question approached their table.

“Hey, Holly. Hey Azura. Have either of you ever heard of something called a slooshie?” Fuchsia asked, plopping her lunch tray down and sitting down. “Apparently, it’s a human thing? Do either of you have any idea?” she continued.

Azura huffed a laugh. “You mean a slushie? Yeah, that’s a human thing.”

Holly could tell Azura was preparing for words. She was right.

“They’re partly frozen drinks that come in usually bubbly flavors, kind of like a soda but frozen. My favorite is blue raspberry, but that might be because mamá refuses to get me any other colors. She always says ‘Mija, the only correct flavor of slushie is blue,’ like okay mom, keep your prejudice against cherry. Abuela likes the blue and the red, but apparently the red is off limits,” Azura finished with a shrug.

Fuchsia’s eyes were wide when she finished talking, looking over at Holly with the expression of “Is she nuts or is she right?” Holly’s answering shrug and smile said “yes.”

Fuchsia took a minute to process the new information, and she shook her head with a smile. “Of course you’d have an opinion on it, Noceda,” she said without any ire.

“It’s Blight-Noceda to you,” Azura sassed back.

Holly and Fuchsia laughed.

Since Azura learned that Holly and Fuchsia’s relationship was more genial than antagonistic, she had also slowly warmed up to the girl. Holly was happy to see her cousin and the girl she liked getting along despite their shared rocky history.

Conversation flowed smoothly from there, the bell screaming too soon signaling the end of lunch. Azura stood up, shoving her half-eaten snack bags back into her backpack. “I just realized I gotta run, I’ll catch you later, byeeeee!” and she dashed from the cafeteria.

Holly had been so caught up in the conversation and watching Fuchsia’s expressions and reactions to everything that she didn’t remember her next class was just about as far away from the cafeteria as she could possibly get. The sudden realization sent her mind screeching as she tried to gather her things. “Crap crap crap crap crap,” she whispered harshly under her breath.

Fuchsia sighed. “Forgot your class is across the school again?” she asked, unsurprised.

Holly shook her head in assent. “I don’t know how I keep forgetting it. It’s not like my schedule changes from week to week, y’know?” she asked as she rapidly shoved things into her bag, not really watching what she grabbed.

When the next thing she grabbed wouldn’t budge, she realized it wasn’t a textbook or her water bottle she grabbed.

“I know you like spending time with me, Hol, but I don’t think Professor Herm will appreciate me crashing his abominations class,” Fuchsia chuckled as she gestured to her hand that Holly had grabbed.

Holly started to panic, her mind going entirely blank and filling with smoke all at once.

“Uhhh.”

Fuchsia laughed once and squeezed her hand, sending her heart into a spiral dance. “I’m just teasing, Hol. I don’t know why we have to take that class anyway.”

“You have to take it because you’re in the abominations track. I have to take it because it’s part of general ed,” Holly grumbled.

“Good, because being late again isn’t gonna win you any points,” Fuchsia added, eyebrows raised.

Holly stuck her tongue out at her.

What am I doing? Titan, I’m SUCH a disaster. What is wrong with me?? OH TITAN I’M LATE AGAIN.

“Crap. I really gotta go,” Holly said again.

“Then go?” Fuchsia questioned, like it was obvious.

“Yeah. I’ll do that.”

Holly made no move to leave. She was hyper-aware of the fact that Fuchsia was still holding her hand and that she still needed to get to class. But the two conflicting ideas left her rooted in place.

The screaming of the bell again shook her out of her head.

“Gotta go! Bye!” Holly shouted, disappearing in a flash of gold. She was halfway down the hall when she shook her head. Holly Noceda-Park. Get it together, girl.

Today was going great. But now? She was late to class and had her head stuck in the clouds for the rest of the day, getting into trouble more than once because she was so far away in her thoughts. Her professors were less than pleased.

-----

By the end of the day, Holly was tired and jumpy and very, very flustered. Picking up Fuchsia’s hand and trying to put her into her backpack was not her proudest moment. She was very glad Azura wasn’t there for that.

She was walking down the front steps of the school when she heard Fuchsia calling out for her from inside the building. Holly turned on the step to face her.

But in Holly fashion, she missed the edge of the step and slipped forward, chin heading directly toward the corner edge of the step. She slammed her eyes shut and braced for impact.

The impact never came.

Instead, she felt steady hands on her shoulders.

The chuckle from Fuchsia so close above her startled her, and even though only a split second had passed, it felt like an eternity as she opened her eyes to amethyst sparkling in mirth.

“Geez, Hol. Keep falling and someone’s gonna think you’re doing it on purpose,” Fuchsia said, pulling Holly upright. She moved her hands to Holly’s cheeks as she went to look into her eyes, moving her head left and right, scrutinizing.

Nah, only falling for you.

“What was that?”

“Huh? What?”

She paused. “You okay?”

Suddenly breathless, Holly didn’t blink, unmoving as her mind went blank with her heart pounding in her chest. Fuchsia was so close. So close. So pretty.

Oh, wow.

“Holly?”

“Yeah?”

Fuchsia cocked an eyebrow. "You said… Something about falling for me?" Holly blanched. I said that out loud??? Fuchsia chuckled, smiling. "Yup. You said that out loud, too." Holly's brain decided that now was a great time to panic. "I'm- uhhh- sm- ca- bub- te-- uhh. Um." Holly stuttered through a bunch of sounds, having no idea how to say anything because she had apparently just said everything. "Hey, you don't look so good," Fuchsia commented. "You okay?" "Uhh," Holly replied intelligently. Fuchsia reached out a hand and put the back of it against Holly's forehead. Any sort of brain cells left that Holly might've had short-circuited. "Do you w-" "I love you," Holly blurted. Fuchsia stopped. She squinted. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head on something today?" Holly couldn't think. No thoughts, head empty. Just blank. She just stared. Fuchsia laughed nervously, tone turning serious. "Seriously Hol, I'm worried. I'm taking you home." At the word "home" Holly's brain rebooted. She gasped and snatched herself from Fuchsia's grasp. In a flash of gold, Holly took off running. "GOTTA GO, BYE!" she yelled back, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake. Fuchsia stood there, watching as Holly left. The other students on the stairs and around the exit of the school remained silent as they too watched Holly go. Then they turned their attention to Fuchsia, silent confusion in their eyes. Fuchsia looked at them and shrugged. "I'm just as confused as you are," she said to everyone before walking off. ----

Truth be told, what Holly said to her on the steps stayed in her mind the whole way home, all afternoon while trying to do her homework, during dinner, and even after that, as she was lying in bed, doing her best to try and fall asleep.

But the way Holly’s voice echoed “I love you” in her head refused to be silenced.

But, Fuchsia’s mind supplied rudely, what if that was only because she was concussed? What if she doesn’t actually love you?

At that, Fuchsia sat bolt upright, willing her palisman into her staff form without realizing it until the smooth wood sat coolly against her palms. Without a word or a pair of shoes, Fuchsia opened her bedroom window and leapt out, staff in hand, and set a familiar path flying towards Holly’s house beneath the bright moon overhead.

Fuchsia’s mind raced as she glided above the familiar roads of Bonesborough, illuminated by streetlights and the occasional light spell below. As she went, every memory of Holly played in her mind, going over and over and over again every little interaction, hoping and praying to whatever Titan was listening that she was right, that Holly was right, that she did love her. As the miles and the minutes flew by, Fuchsia’s heart beat faster and faster that by the time the green roof of the Noceda-Park household came into view, she thought she might just explode.

At the last second, she decided to land a little farther out from the house than strictly necessary because it was late and she didn’t want to be seen before she wanted to be. The tiny stones prickled her feet as she made her way down the street. She sat upon the fence across from Holly’s front door where a week ago she could have sworn Holly was going to kiss her.

The lights illuminating the windows upstairs reminded her of their childhood, before her mother got in the way. The tree in the side yard where the tired swing hung, where Holly and she spent hours in their summers as witchlings. The kitchen window, where Holly’s mom would call them in for snacks when they would inevitably get hungry. The round window above the door, where inside is a part of a wall where they would perch and watch people through the window. The roof and the stars in the sky, where many nights had been spent during sleepovers or evenings after flyer derby or nights when neither of them could sleep.

The moon as her witness, Fuchsia promised herself that whatever happened tonight, she would always cherish and love Holly. She knew that.

She breathed in deeply.

Exhale.

You can do this.

Fuchsia hopped back up on her staff and flew quietly around to the side of the house where Holly’s bedroom light was on. She hovered there to watch Holly’s silhouette against the curtains.

Holly was pacing, gesticulating wildly to no one in particular. She’s probably talking to herself about earlier, Fuchsia figured. Watching for another few moments, Fuchsia steeled her resolve and floated closer to the window. She stretched out her arm and knocked thrice on the pane of glass.

The pacing stilled. Silhouette Holly looked toward the window.

Fuchsia knocked again.

Silhouette Holly got bigger until real Holly moved the airy fabric aside. Once she realized who was at her window, Fuchsia saw surprise, shock, confusion, and panic overtake her face.

Fuchsia cracked a smile and waved, but her temporary release of her staff made her wobble in the air. Holly giggled. Fuchsia smiled wider. She loved that giggle.

Holly opened the window.

“What are you doing here?” Holly whisper-yelled.

Fuchsia exhaled a light laugh. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

Holly stilled. “Oh.”

A moment of silence passed as tension grew thick.

Fuchsia broke the silence first. “Do you… wanna go for a walk?” she asked, entirely forgetting about her lack of shoes and how the street just stabbed her toes into pincushions just a minute before.

Holly smiled softly, but suddenly noticed Fuchsia’s lack of shoes. “Maybe we should fly?” she suggested, gesturing at her friend’s bare feet.

Sheepishly, Fuchsia scratched the back of her neck. “Oh. Yeah. I, uh. I kind of left in a hurry.”

Holly shook her head. “Why am I not surprised? Let me grab you a pair of shoes. I’ll meet you on the roof, and we can go from there.”

Fuchsia nodded and made her way above the house to land on the roof. The shingles also dug into the soles of her feet, but it was much better than the street out front.

Sure, her heart was still racing, but seeing Holly for even the few moments she did helped calm her down enough to think clearly. But thinking clearly for too long meant panicking, and that meant thinking about what she was about to do, and that was even more stress-inducing than anything else, but the second Holly’s blonde head appeared in her vision, all that remained was her overwhelming affection.

Holly hopped off her palisman close to where Fuchsia was standing and held out a pair of sneakers and a pair of mismatched purple and pink socks. “I saw you weren’t wearing socks either and wearing sneakers without socks is kinda gross.”

Fuchsia smiled and took the offered objects. “That’s definitely something we can agree on.”

Sitting down gingerly, Fuchsia took a moment to dust off her feet before putting on the socks and shoes. She remembered giving these socks to Holly a month or two ago. She had seen them at a shop on a trip to the Human Realm and had immediately bought both pairs because they reminded her of Holly. The purple sock had popcorn on it and the pink sock had knives on it and said, “I’m feeling stabby.” They had screamed ‘Holly’ so loud that Fuchsia laughed out loud in the aisle before grabbing them and approaching the counter.

Holly didn’t know that part, though. But it was a happy memory that Fuchsia held close to her heart.

Finishing tying the shoes, Fuchsia stood up and faced Holly with a smile.

“Ready to go?” Holly asked.

Fuchsia nodded, and with that, they both mounted to the sky.

Instinct pulled Fuchsia toward the slayground where they had met as witchlings. They landed by the wingset, where they dismissed their palismen to play together while they sat and swung lightly.

Neither of them spoke for what could have been an eternity, sitting beside one another in silence with the breeze singing sweetly around them, a melody for their ears alone.

Fuchsia slowed her swing and Holly followed suit, turning slightly to face her.

Fuchsia studied her for a moment longer before speaking. “Did you mean it?”

Holly didn’t ask, but she knew what Fuchsia meant. She looked away, not being able to handle a rejection. “Yes.”

Fuchsia watched as Holly braced herself, not having seen the bright smile covering her face and the happy tears welling in her eyes. Her blood boiled in her heart, which soared out of its place like a bird flying for the first time.

“Good.”

Holly whipped her head up, her eyes shining with unshed tears of preparation for rejection as she searched Fuchsia’s eyes for any sort of deception.

Her voice was soft when she spoke. “What?”

Fuchsia stood up and walked in front of where Holly was sitting, reaching out to pull her up to stand with her. Her smile was hurting her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop.

“I said, ‘good.’” Fuchsia repeated, carefully taking Holly’s cheek in her hand. She was shaking.

Holly brought her hand up to cup Fuchsia’s, seeing for the first time and realizing what that look was all this time.

Fuchsia spoke softly. “Because I love you, too.”

Fuchsia watched Holly’s expression morph to mirror her own, happy tears streaming down their cheeks.

Using their intertwined hands, Fuchsia brought their foreheads together just to be close. To know that this beautiful girl in front of her, who is so gentle and so brave and so kind, loves her back, was almost too much to bear.

Holly was the first to recover.

“Can I kiss you now?” she asked shyly, and Fuchsia laughed.

“Please,” she said.

-----

Their first kiss in the park was not their last, neither was it their last that night. The two of them spent another hour in the park sitting side by side, hand in hand, kissing every now and then just because they could. When the sun started to rise, Fuchsia brought Holly’s hand up and kissed her knuckles to bid her goodnight.

When they saw each other at school, matching eye bags and shy smiles as they linked pinkies in class, their friends swapped snails in the background. The two of them were too preoccupied to notice.

Holly told Fuchsia at lunch that her parents were awake and waiting in her room when she got home that morning.

“I can’t lie to them, y’know, so I just told them the truth,” she said, shrugging and taking a bite of her sandwich.

Fuchsia chewed her own bite and nodded. “That’s fair.”

Just then, a loud voice crowed across the room.

“Hey guys!” It was Azura. “Nice going!”

Everyone in the lunchroom looked at Azura, standing on a table, and then toward the new couple.

They looked at each other and smiled. Now nobody would be surprised, now. And that was okay.

This was such a sweet little story with all the fluff and funny buildup to the aww-inducing confession! Their kissing and affectionate gestures at the slayground were so wonderful and I'm so happy they were able to be together/admit their feelings (although everyone else already knew ;) ).

*Also, I totally agree the Holly was being a "disaster" here. ;) ^_^<3

#the owl house fan kids #the owl house #toh #fan kid discussion #ask me anything

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hakugreenfinch · 6 months

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my friend sent me a screenshot of an old fb post of mine that she was tagged in and in which i complain that the new snk manga chapters were killing my motivation to write my fanfiction (that i was actually passionate enough about to then rework and start drawing as a comic in 2019. didnt finish but thats not the point now)

the thing is that post was from november 2014. i got into snk in july 2013. i dont actually remember exactly what made me post that, i looked up what chapter came out that day and i have guesses. probably just got annoyed that i had to rewrite the entire lore.

...actually tumblr is a great platform to post this on bc my blog probably documents my entire journey with that series. like the thing is. i started getting less joy out of this manga a little over a year after getting into it. i remember buying the first volume in december 2013, ive been reading it for less than a year at that point. and thats like, curious because i dont recall any story that i was/am into as much as i can sorta say i was into snk that started to become disillusioning this soon.

i started becoming less hopeful regarding snk in a year and my hopes for it only declined until i finally quit in summer 2016 and like... this is not me saying "ooooh it was never any good and i knew it deep down" because the main beef i have with it is that it has very good points its just less than the sum of its parts. its just... very weird to me. ive been into jojo for 4 years, n+c for 8, fma at least 13 and i still dont pick up any of these with the feeling of "well for whatever reason this is worth my time less and less".

i guess im just stuck on the part where i keep being told i have no right to say this show isnt The Best Ever because i "dont even know anything about the story" because i actually held out for it so long. i read a majority of the manga i spent most of my time in the fandom apparently hoping for it to make sense again and it just sucks remembering how it never delivered to me and how i keep being shut down because i dont know what im talking about, apparently.

#hakuna matata #complicated feelings about this series #easily one of my saddest snk days was sitting down to watch season 2 after 5 years of waiting and 2 years of giving up on it #and then watching the big reveal and realizing i just dont care #i wanted to love this show so much but in the end it just never earned it #and because i quit instead of waiting another 3 years for it to maybe make some sense im stupid and dont know a thing and need to shut up #this show asked questions and set up mysteries and introduced characters i wanted to hear more about #then shrugged as an answer ruined the mysteries and slaughtered the characters without telling me anything #i never found out why i should have actually cared about my favourite character. and at this point i just dont care.#sigh at least i met one very nice person via this fandom. lyfe if you see this i love you.

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mooniefics · 3 years

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— beck and call

pairings : yelena / fem reader

word count : 10.2k

tags : one-sided relationship, lowkey master / servant dynamic, eventual smut, mild body worship, dom / sub undertones, power imbalance

warnings : contains nsfw, mildly dub-con at some points, yelena being physically rough w you for disobedience

summary : serving as yelena's personal guard turned out to yield many unexpected consequences.

to say that you were unnerved by the task of guarding an anti-marleyan volunteer would be an understatement.

you hadn't quite digested the fact there even existed a world beyond the walls that had towered over you for your entire life, looming high in the sky like a reminder that you would be trapped, penned like an animal for the rest of your prospective future. that had been your initial motivation to become a soldier, to at least advance to a garrison position where you could have a taste of exclusive information regarding what lay beyond the stone and metal bearings. but in the final year of your basic training, everything had changed. there were talks of outlandish things, of traitors from another land that had hidden amongst the native people, talks of islands and foreign soil and something more than the confines of the walls.

upon graduating, you had ultimately chosen the scouting legion, seeing how the garrison was quickly being disbanded and the remaining soldiers that hadn't stepped into their early days of retirement were joining the aforementioned regiment. the benefits only seemed to become greater and greater with the extinction of titans, the whispers of allies and retribution and rebuilding a lost legacy of your people. but somehow, all that novel luster had become muted, completely darkened by the imposing presence of this singular individual seated before you. you had only been debriefed on their name and role in military operations before your assignment, leaving you worryingly unprepared for arguably the most important assignment of your career.

the sound of your name passing from your squad leader's lips grounded you, the formal introduction quickly drawing to a close as he relayed the information to the striking foreigner. "she will be your personal escort for the remainder of your stay. if you have any questions regarding the island, feel free to ask her at any time."

"wonderful." their voice was rich, smooth with confidence and underlined with something unfamiliar—it was the way their lips rounded out the first syllable, or perhaps the way they spoke from the depths of their throat.

you felt your back stiffen as they rose from their seat, somehow rising taller and taller, their stature reaching much higher than anyone you'd ever met. immediately, your right hand clamped into a fist, thudding over your heart as your left arm hooked behind your back, spitting out your full name and designation just as you had while saluting hundreds of times. "i'm incredibly grateful for this opportunity to occupy you. thank you for all that you and the volunteers have done for paradis."

you were shocked that your voice hadn't quivered with the way their eyes dragged down your body, grey and barren of any emotion besides a hint of intrigue, sharp features framed by short, fair hair. they were strikingly handsome, masculine yet feminine at the same time, an indiscernible sort of beauty that perplexed and enthralled you.

"no need to thank me, soldier." whether they were assuring or commanding you, you didn't know, only cognizant of how they nearly purred out your title. swallowing, you lowered your hands, standing at ease and forcing yourself to not look to your superior for encouragement.

"then i shall show you to your lodgings. please follow me."

you forced yourself to turn your back to them and take a step, then another, mentally counting them one by one until you reached the door. you could hear their heavy footfalls following behind you, the distance steadily beginning to close until you forced your own pace to quicken. on the silent walk out of the management building, you had found a speed that worked, one long stride of theirs equaling two of yours, leaving you straining to keep a comfortable yet polite space between the both of you. you risked a glance back, having to crane your head up to catch a glimpse of their face. they had been staring idly at the back of your head, meeting your eyes when you turned to briefly face them, the moment cut short by your own haste to fix your view back onto the path before you.

"how shall i address you?" you attempted to fill the cool void of discomfort that had suddenly settled in the air around you, shoulders tense and brow taut.

"anything works."

their answer offered nothing in return to your inquiry, the faint image of their face flitting across your mind. you hadn't looked at them long enough to commit their features to memory, but you had looked enough to remember their startlingly cold eyes, angular nose and full lips, sharp jaw and heavy brow.

"m-miss yelena?" you attempted, fighting the urge to nervously fidget or give away any sign of your unease.

"if it suits you." was their final reply before the two of you fell silent once again.

the lack of discussion persisted through the remainder of the journey, the only sounds occupying the space being the fall of your boots against the ground and the jingle of your keyring that you drew from your pocket to unlock the front door. you stood aside to hold it open as she walked in, feeling an odd sensation flutter in the pit of your stomach when she had to duck under the frame to enter. the housing itself wasn't extravagant, only a single open room with a desk, bookshelf, dresser, kitchenette, bed, and a small bathroom area to the side to occupy the space, the ceiling seeming much lower than it was due to yelena's formidable height. she looked out at the room, flicking a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, face neutral and inexpressive.

"how quaint," she turned to face you, a prick of unease making your posture pin-straight once again, "is there any reason they've put us volunteers away from the main soldier barracks?"

your mind suddenly went blank at the worst of times, unknowing of the exact answer but knowing you had to over something in response. "s-simply for your comfort. we wouldn't like it to seem as if we don't trust you to stay on your own."

"ah, so considerate of you." for the first time she smiled, a barely-there tilt at the corner of her lips that made your heart stutter, "then i'll be sure to make myself at home."

she stepped slowly over to the bookshelf, dragging her fingers over the backs of the books with an apparent interest. you stayed standing where you were, unsure if you should leave then or wait a bit longer for just the right moment. something about her presence was unnerving, but there was also an undeniable allure that you almost gravitated to, despite her being a stranger.

"do you need anything else?" you piped up, letting your hands link behind your back, fingers twisting together.

"not that i can think of." each word seemed scripted, as if she'd practiced this entire conversation a dozen times before it'd ever happened.

"then i'll be on my way." you shakily smiled in an attempt to seem put together, hoping that she didn't immediately see through the weak front, "i'll be back in a couple of hours to escort you to dinner."

you bowed and took your leave, almost desperate to escape her all-consuming gaze and find refuge outside her line of sight. but even after you'd shut the door behind you and stepped off the porch, well on your way down the path you'd taken, you could still feel how her eyes had examined every fine detail of your stance, analyzing every shift and subtle movement you made with a calculating look. deep down, you already knew that this position would be completely exhausting from the get-go.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you had fulfilled your typical nightly routine—fetch yelena from her quarters to escort her to the cafeteria, go your separate ways and sit at your usual tables after getting food, finish your dinner with five minutes to spare in the dining hour to go inform yelena that it was time for her to wrap up her meal so you could take her back. she'd followed you down the usual path, now lit with newly placed street lamps that turned on after the sun sunk below the horizon and night fell. there had been nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the way the volunteer table had eyed you with a formerly absent intrigue when you came to speak to yelena.

that comfortable distance you'd kept between the two of you had slowly been narrowing over the last few days, a development which had peaked both your curiosity and your anxiety. while you still kept yourself a few paces ahead of her, you could feel how close her presence had become, an almost physical weight that settled itself over your back and urged you to walk faster and faster to escape its grasp. but you knew that she was all too good at reading your body language, somehow having familiarized herself with even the finest idiosyncrasies that incriminated you in just about a month, an understanding that had only grown deeper as more and more time had passed. although you felt as if you'd gained the upper hand for a few days when you realized that she always let a bit of emotion slip in her large, ashen eyes when you said something just enough out of the ordinary to catch her interest, any progress you thought you'd made was quickly squandered by her own advancements. today was no different, another morning and afternoon filled with dodging the occasional pervasive question from her about the simplest of things.

were you an only child? had you been closer to your mother or father when you were younger? did you join the scouts to explore the world or because you simply found no value in living out your life doing something different? they had started out with an ambiguous end-goal, but slowly evolved into even more unprofessional matters—attempts to provoke a discussion about your love life, what you might look for in a prospective partner, whether you wanted to settle down after you retired or stay unattached for the remainder of your life.

you always dodged, and she always let up for a while, lulling you into a sense of safety that was always broken by that same question again, worded differently but asking for an answer that was the same as the last. the more you ran from her company, the more she seemed to push it upon you, pleased when you would slip up and get flustered when she caught you off guard. so you held your ground this evening, even when your fingers quivered at the realization that she was practically peering over your shoulder, watching you unlock the door to her quarters with just barely enough space separating you to not feel her breath fanning down the back of your neck.

you quickly opened the door and began moving to hold it open for her like you always did, but felt a large hand resting at your shoulder, prompting you to quickly spin on your heel to face her. she was usually finished with her casual interrogating by this hour, which was why you were more than surprised to see that she was staring down at you, having lowered yourself to your level enough for you to not have to tilt your head completely back to meet her eye.

you took an instinctive step back, flinching at the sound of the door falling shut behind you, effectively caging you in between it and the woman before you. pale, dangerously alert irises traversed your expression, drinking in every small feature that had been drawn back into a confused look, stomach already knotting into a twisted tangle of warmth and icy panic.

"are you afraid of me?"

the immediate answer sat on the tip of your tongue, lips parting to deliver the lie you had ready for such an inquiry. but something in her eyes spoke to you, silently, warning you not to give into dishonesty. you couldn't possibly admit to still being fearful of her, not when you were meant to be the powerful one in this relationship. you weren't supposed to say yes, but you also found yourself unable to lie as you always did, not when the path you'd walked with her was still worryingly empty and you felt the hard wood of the door now pressing unforgivingly into your back with each minuscule step back.

"sh-should i be?" you cursed your stammer, betraying your evident lack of control, the only redeeming aspect being the non-committal implication that responding with another question held.

that seemed to throw her off a bit, owlish eyes slowly blinking at you as she thought. even up close like this, you couldn't identify a single flaw in her appearance—pale skin smooth like porcelain, unconcerned by any sort of natural imperfections, hair like fine silk and eyes piercingly bright, yet clouded like a stormy sky. you squeaked at a hand seizing your collar, right hand instinctively flying down to the scabbard strapped around your thigh, clammy palm shakily clenching around the hilt of your blade, the other clamping firmly around her wrist.

she only smirked at the presumed threat, pressing herself even closer to you, enough that you could feel the radiant heat of her lips just barely grazing your own. you suppressed the trembling threatening to shake through your every limb, beginning to feel lightheaded with the effort to contain your quickening breaths, swallowing down your dread, forcing yourself to meet her gaze when she spoke.

"if it suits you. it doesn't affect me either way, does it?"

you just barely shook your head side to side, not realizing you were rising up onto your tiptoes until she pulled you forward that last inch by your shirt, eyes falling shut as her lips melded easily against yours. an inexplicable warmth flourished in your chest, heart tripping up to match the frantic speed of your thoughts, fingers clenching around her slender, clothed wrist. you forced yourself back with a sharp intake of breath, backing yourself far enough into the door that you could feel the wood digging into the small of your back.

"m-miss yelena, you can't—!"

she didn't allow you to finish, tugging you back to your previous position with a low huff, the faint snap of a stitch popping somewhere on your collar going unregarded as you let out a small noise of surprise, wide eyes relenting and squeezing shut. a voice in the back of your mind screamed for you to draw your knife, push her away, force her into her quarters, anything but just standing there and allowing her to exert such a humiliating power over you. but it was so much easier to sink into her grasp, to feel her fingers slowly relax and hold you at a comfortable height rather than force you up, to allow the hot flush of an unknown intimacy to settle deep into your skin.

you'd been kissed before, it wasn't as if she stole your first chance from you, but it had never been like this. you had only brushed the surface of gentle pecks and lingering hands on the other's face until you both giggled and pulled away, never faced with such a certain confidence that almost frightened you more than it allured you, an unspoken order that left you at her mercy rather than on equal footing. and though you'd all but forgotten about your initial rejection, yelena had not, chastising you with a firm bite to your lower lip that drew a less-than-composed whimper from the back of your throat.

"i would advise you to not dictate what i can and cannot do in the future." she stated firmly, tone devoid of any personal inflection, barely pulling away enough for you to meet her stare, hand tightening around your collar once more, "understood?"

"y-yes, miss yelena." you barely whispered, nodding affirmatively. a flicker of amusement momentarily lightened her expression when you drew your tongue over the aching skin of your lips, the taste of faint copper and black tea clinging to your taste buds.

she slowly slackened her grip, not even so much as blinking as she straightened her posture and reached past you to open the door, allowing you a moment to scamper out of her path and pull your shirt back into place with trembling hands. "then, you are dismissed, soldier."

she didn't spare you a second glance before proceeding into her quarters, shutting the door behind her without another word. you stood dumbly for a moment, licking over your bottom lip once more, just then realizing how shallow and quick your breathing was. you steadied yourself enough to lock her door, shaking away the mental fog of such an abrupt change of scenery, pulling your jacket tighter around you to make up for the lack of her warmth pressing into you, confused as to why you had just allowed yourself to be ordered around by the individual that you were meant to be keeping in check. the walk back to your dorm was blurry at best, a few good-nights from your colleagues that prompted a hum of acknowledgement, thankfully nothing that required you to recount your daily fulfilled duties or anything past a few minutes prior.

even after you'd shed your clothes, pointedly ignoring how wrinkled your shirt front had become, cleaned yourself up and crawled into the isolated comfort of your bed, you found yourself unable to sleep. perhaps you could learn from this experience, remind yourself at all times to put even more distance between the two of you. maybe you would have to stop conversing with her so casually, or perhaps your best option would be to cut your losses and request an assignment change, consequences or record mark-ups be damned. but as you tossed and turned on your mattress, burying your face into your pillows and trying to rid your skin of any memory of her touch, a voice at the back of your head ceaselessly murmured, a rambled premonition of more turbulence to come.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

this day marked five weeks since the initial incident, there had been no activity like it since—although you couldn't say whether you thought that was a bad thing or not. not to say that you hadn't been keeping your distance, the first few days were spent cautiously looking over your shoulder, making sure to keep her even further than arm's length but still close enough to guarantee that she couldn't slip away on her own. she behaved respectfully enough, although she herself seemed to be acting as if nothing had even happened, greeting you like normal and allowing you to escort her to meals and strategy meetings when necessary, despite how she'd affirmed that you weren't to give her any orders.

you hadn't reported the infraction to any superiors, knowing that you would get caught up in an unnecessary fuss that might even get you stuck at the bottom of the ranking list once again, an unthinkable outcome that only made you sure that the right decision was to keep your mouth shut. the previous afternoon was the first time yelena had made a special request, describing how unfortunate it was that she was lacking just a few proper amenities that would really make her lodgings "feel just like home". your persistent hesitance had eased after the first week of safety, and you fulfilled your responsibility of maintaining her comfort by arriving early this morning, toting a small bag of a dark ground powder and cups.

you were surprised to see that yelena was already awake upon your arrival, seated at a table that looked far too small for her, reading one of the many books from her provided bookshelf. you exchanged polite greetings, her not rising from her place until you'd lit the fire beneath the stove and set out a plate and cup for her at the counter, stowing away the rest in whatever free space you could find. you stood by while she took care of making whatever it was she wanted herself, noting the fragrant richness that had filled the air upon her steeping the powder in heated water.

"they only serve black tea in the cafeteria," she said, speaking to no one in particular, plucking a ladle from the utensil rack, "it's been ages since i had a cup of coffee in the morning."

the heat of the stove was beginning to warm the room, prompting you to shed your jacket and place it on the back of the chair yelena had not been previously seated at. your shirt beneath it was more forgiving, a thin material that had always hung a bit loosely from your shoulders, great for the hotter days when you were still expected to be in uniform.

"have you ever had a cup of coffee?" her voice interrupted your meandering stream of thought, the sound of liquid being poured into a cup faintly catching your attention.

"no, i don't think i have."

"would you like to try some?"

the offer stoked the spark of bothersome curiosity, the scent filling the air and mingling with the ambient sound of crackling wood and the feel of the hot air making you want to accept. perhaps this was her way of making amends, or just doing something pleasant for the worker that she was made to follow behind like their second shadow.

"if it's not too much trouble, then.."

"of course it isn't."

you felt a light sweat beginning to bead down your back, pulling your handkerchief from your pocket and dabbing at your neck. this space wasn't properly suited for a stove to be used, seeing as the unlatching mechanisms on the window had been removed for the sake of thwarting any sort of curfew breaking by the volunteers, meaning there was little ventilation aside from the small chimney extending out of the kitchenette area. you stole a glance at yelena, now opening the cabinet that you had strained to reach with ease.

the memory of her hand fisting your shirt, the collar that now hugged just the slightest bit looser at the base of your neck, the long healed-over bite that had left the soft flesh of your lips feeling raw for the following few days. the external heat of the still burning stove was only intensified by the flush climbing up to your cheeks, the desire to release a button or two on your shirt and free some of your skin to the open air becoming undeniable. it felt a bit ironic that the one time you'd properly stepped into her quarters for more than a quick minute to help her get something sorted was the one time the tension that always hung in the air between the two of you was replaced by something tangibly suffocating, the sweltering heat that made you kick off your blankets in the dreary silence at night when the recollection of her kiss relentlessly looped in your mind and chased away any thought of sleep.

you hooked a finger on the collar of your shirt, gently tugging it to the side to absentmindedly press the soft cloth over the skin, wiping away any bothersome perspiration that would leave you uncomfortable by the time you were allowed to change out of your uniform and shower it away.

"what's that?" your eyes darted up at her question, catching sight of the two plated teacups in her hands before you met her gaze.

"i beg your pardon?" you asked meekly.

"that. at your shoulder." you glanced down to where your handkerchief had previously been.

"oh, do you mean this?" she nodded when you pointed to the raised line of skin marring your shoulder, a thick scar that you'd stopped fussing over after realizing that it was an inevitable outcome. "it's a scar," you clarified, tucking your personal cloth back in your pocket, "just about everyone in the military has the same one."

she didn't respond, but held your gaze as she proceeded to the table to set the cups down. you'd become more accustomed to these silent requests, and you knew that she was telling you to continue.

"you work with the equipment engineers, right?" she nodded. "then you've seen our harnesses. all those leather straps end up digging into our skin and leaving scars pretty much all over. although, i did practice on the omnidirectional gear a bit more than all the other recruits during basic training to increase my proficiency, so mine may be deeper.."

you tensed as she approached, slow, deliberate steps steadily closing the distance between the two of you until she was right in front of you. she had started stooping down more often around you, only when she was directly addressing you alone, but it was something that you noticed all the same. a part of you wanted to feel offended, that she thought it necessary to lower yourself to your level as if you were beneath her in a way besides physical stature, but you couldn't deny that you enjoyed the exclusive treatment. she never seemed concerned with doing any sort of thing with anyone else—not with her colleagues, not with other soldiers of or below your ranking, not with any of your own superiors, only you. in a way, it made you feel acknowledged.

"could i see?"

"huh?" was your unprofessional response, but she didn't allow you any time to correct it.

"your scars. where else do you have them?"

"oh." you swallowed, forcing yourself to look up into her steely eyes, "well, i have them on the soles of my feet, and around my thighs, mostly around my torso."

a hand on your abdomen made your back go stiff, her touch pressing lightly over your shirt. "here?"

you nodded, small and timid before her, a trickle of sweat beginning to slide down your back. you realized that you had never had to look down at yelena, not until this present moment where she had knelt down on one knee in front of you, holding your gaze for just a moment before she undid a single button from the bottom of your shirt, glancing up at you as if to check for any sign of refusal before she undid another, then another.

there was nothing forceful about her motions today, nimble fingers patiently unfastening each clasp with care until your shirt revealed your midsection. one slender hand pulled aside the cotton fabric, the other reaching out, just barely grazing the skin of your stomach where the long, pale scar from your utility belt stretched horizontally across your body. her fingertips were warm from handling the kitchenware, but the shiver that crawled up your spine was cold, almost electric, a strange sensation squeezing around your heart and lungs, making each breath quicker than the last.

"was it painful?" she asked quietly, a tinge of earnesty lining her words, features entirely relaxed as they always were.

you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, voice barely reaching a whisper. "yes."

she focused her eyes onto the marred skin, following the raised line of flesh to your sides, brow cinching upwards the slightest bit at the sight of another carving down your waist, following the curvature of your ribs.

"what resilience.." she murmured, free hand returning to undo the remaining buttons of your shirt, "determination is such a beautiful trait, don't you think?" her eyes flitted up to meet yours, sharp and observant, fingers gingerly wrapping around your waist, thumb stroking down your lumbar. "for most, i have to hear it in their voice, or through their words—but it has always been different with you." she pulled a button free. "i see it in your eyes, the way you carry yourself, it's written all over your body." another undone button, you could feel the warmth of her breath fanning across your stomach, the graze of her fingertips tracing up your side and halting at the cloth wrappings over your breasts. "are there more under this?"

your knees felt a few flattering words away from buckling, each gentle touch making the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you nodded, lips parting to take in a much-needed deep breath, realizing that your shirt was now completely open, exposing the entirety of your scarred torso aside from what remained covered by your chest bindings. your fingers curled into your palm, trembling, just then noticing how soft yelena's hands were in comparison to your own, absent of callous and work-roughened skin. you bit at the inside of your cheek, blinking down at her as you watched a thin finger trace the seam of the cloth, finding the tucked end within moments and gently pulling it free.

a few loud knocks at the door were startling enough to make you jump, head snapping to the side to face the front of the house, a muffled call of your last name from the other side making an anxious knot twist painfully tight deep in your gut. you quickly stepped away, leaving yelena kneeling on the floor, struggling to button up your shirt without even bothering to fix your chest cloth. as soon as you'd gotten yourself situated, you opened the door to find your squad leader awaiting you on the other side.

"is everything alright? breakfast started five minutes ago."

you hoped that the disbelief on your face could be taken as the expression of someone who had simply lost track of time. "i apologize, sir! m-miss yelena put in a request for marleyan coffee yesterday, and i was simply waiting for her to finish before i escorted her to the cafeteria."

you forced yourself to stay composed, trying to focus on the impassive face of your squad leader. there was a stark difference between the emotionlessness of yelena and that of everyone else around you, she somehow made her lack of any sort of feeling or warmth a beautiful kind of coldness, unlike the unnatural stoicism of your superiors. you saw his mouth open to reply, but you were both surprised by a sudden presence behind you, a firm hand at your shoulder, his eyes moving from looking down at you to looking up at the woman behind you, a flicker of genuine unease flitted across his hardened features.

"please don't fault her for my lack of punctuality," she said, a false sincerity lightening her usual low tone, "i simply wanted to enjoy a taste of home, is all. is my presence imperative?"

"i was only making sure everyone was accounted for." your squad leader asserted, staring up at her in an obvious attempt to intimidate that you knew would fail, "as long as you're being properly monitored, do as you please."

"understood." her fingers curled around your shoulder, gently urging you back, away from the door, "then i won't dawdle any longer, i'll join you all in the cafeteria momentarily."

yelena shut the door for you as soon as you took a step back, waiting until the steps of your squad leader had descended off of the porch and disappeared down the path before speaking to you. "i do hope i didn't get you in trouble."

you turned on your heel to face her, feeling a slight flutter in your chest at the sight of her already having lowered herself to your height. "oh, no, you don't have to worry about that.. he's always been a bit on the uptight side of things."

the corners of her lips perked up into the faintest smile before she proceeded back to the table, pressing a finger to the side of one of the teacups. "the coffee's gone cold now. my apologies for the distraction."

distraction, the wry thought flitted across your mind. you guessed that word was suitably to describe allowing her to nearly undress you before the sun had even fully risen in the sky. this was becoming a dangerous game, an ever-lengthening round of cat and mouse, and each day that passed made your more and more certain that you were the one who was running despite your inherent position of power over her. there was something absolutely captivating about her, whether it be the air of mystery that no amount of questions could dispel, or the way that she could practically bring you to your knees with just a few careful words—the more thought you put into it, the more instances of appeal that you seemed to find that only made you want to sink deeper and deeper into the depths that was her subtle control over you.

"i just don't want us to arrive late and miss out on anything." you said lamely, empty words to fill the air as you moved across the room to grab your jacket.

"perhaps another time." she replied, removing the dishes from the table to deposit them in the sink, leaving you with that sole promise that insinuated much more than just another cup of coffee.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"miss yelena, i don't know if we're allowed to be in this section of the building—"

"no one has stopped us yet, have they?" yelena didn't turn back to address you, only continuing forward with that long stride that took two quick steps of your own to match.

she was correct in the regard that no one had questioned her presence in the west wing of the management building, and the few that had begun to object stopped immediately upon catching sight of you following obediently behind her. you felt a bit like a prop, being used as almost a badge of clearance by the one and only individual that you were meant to keep from unauthorized locations such as this one. but her flat assertion that she had important business that gave you nothing in the way of information of direction before she'd taken off for the barracks, leaving you only able to chase after her and hope that no one figured out that she wasn't supposed to be there in the event that she truly wasn't meant to be.

you didn't have long to ruminate on your circumstances before you arrived at a door flanked by a single soldier, a young man that you recognized as someone affiliated with the more well-known soldiers from the 104th graduating class. though you didn't recall his name, you nodded politely to him as he opened the door for yelena, trailing closely behind her while still trying to peek around her slender frame. it was one of the smaller meeting rooms, a large window providing a fair amount of natural illumination down onto the round table, the sole occupant being another one of the anti-marleyan volunteers.

"glad to see you could make it." onyankopon smiled broadly up at yelena, his warm gaze flitting to you momentarily before traveling back to his associate, "no trouble, i assume?"

"none at all." she replied as she took a seat at the head of the table, looking as if she belonged there more than any of the superiors you'd seen seated there, "this one made sure no one interrupted our trip."

you flushed at the praise, standing pin straight beside her chair, hands lowering from behind your back to at your sides, trying not to let the enjoyment of her commendation show on your face. he turned his attention to you, inspiring a quick skip of your heart, fingers tapping nervously at your thighs.

"it's great to hear that yelena has been treating you well." he said matter-of-factly, but a cocked eyebrow and tilt of his head seemed to request a verbal confirmation of his statement.

you blinked, your words catching in your throat as your eyes involuntarily glanced to yelena, an instinctive desire to hold your tongue in the face of speaking about her, an odd sort of insecurity concerning your character flaring in your chest. but that split second of silence was all that she needed to take up the task of answering onyankopon, planting an elbow down on the tabletop and resting her chin in her palm.

"i have been treating her well." she affirmed, almost sounding bored, tilting her head to address you as she reached out and took the hand of yours that was closest to her, drawing it close to her face as she examined your expression, "isn't that right?"

you swallowed, mouth dry, nodding at yelena before remembering that you were meant to be answering onyankopon. "oh, y-yes. miss yelena has been very easy to work with."

pale eyes glimmered at your positive answer, mouth twitching upwards into that rare, barely noticeable smile. you felt your heart jump into your throat as she brought her lips to your knuckles, planting a soft, brief kiss over the back of your hand before gently placing it down at your side. she looked at you as if she knew exactly what you were thinking, like she could hear that unspoken worry of whether she should be doing this in front of her colleague, like she was giving the silent reply that she could do as she pleased.

"then, shall we begin?" onyankopon's voice brought you back to the present, shooting you another momentary glance before fixing his eyes on yelena.

"oh, right." she turned back to you, "be a dear and leave us for a moment to chat."

the mix of confusion at her request and surprise at the affectionate title halted your thoughts. "i'm sorry, miss yelena, but i don't think i'm allowed to do that."

your heart sank as you watched a look of annoyance draw across her features, large eyes narrowing, brow knitting together. she didn't speak for a moment, almost like she was waiting for you to take back your refusal and head on your way without any further discussion. when you did neither, she frowned, reaching out her hand once more, her fingers drawing up your palm to wrap around your wrist.

you nearly yelped as she clinched her grasp almost painfully tight, thumb pressing down hard over the bone at the side of your wrist, nails digging in your skin. her voice was low when she spoke, dangerously commanding and castigating, each word carefully enunciated.

"i said go."

only after you'd earnestly nodded did she release you, allowing you to scamper out of the room, blinking away the tears that had begun to well in your eyes from your stinging skin and the way she'd spoken to you. you took your place at the side of the door unoccupied by the soldier you'd seen before entering, fingers shakily tracing over the underside of your wrist.

though you weren't bleeding, the skin felt raw and irritated, your pulse racing fast in your veins. perhaps it wasn't so bad that you'd left them in there on their own, seeing as the older, more experienced guard was also standing by, well aware that there was no one monitoring them in the meeting room. so you obediently stood and waited, straining to make out coherent words from their muffled voices, contemplating why seeing yelena upset with you was so distressing.

why had you allowed her to order you around? why had you even complied with her demands instead of outright refusing like you were supposed to? why were you worried that she would still be angry with you by the time she walked out of that meeting room? you couldn’t understand what concerned you so deeply about what yelena thought of you, but somehow, the overbearing silence of the empty hallway made it even more difficult to wrap your head around your thoughts. you were so wrapped up in your panicked attempt at contemplation that you didn’t even notice the sound of their footsteps approaching from the other side of the door, only torn from your mind when the door opened from beside you. the two marleyans emerged, laughing affably together, exchanging temporary farewells until they could see each other at dinner that evening.

you looked up at her anxiously, wishing she’d spare you a glance for even just a moment instead of keeping her gaze fixed on the only other individuals populating the space. you hid your hands behind your back rather than in your pockets, knowing that it’d look horrendously unprofessional. but before you could worry about anyone catching sight of the reddened marks, the familiar soldier addressed you directly.

“i do look forward to working more closely with you in the future, i don’t believe we’ve met before. ” he said, outstretching a hand for you to shake, “floch forster.”

you quickly tugged the sleeve of your coat over your injured wrist, grasping his hand and giving a firm up and down, only offering your own name and a polite nod in return. you didn’t exactly know what he meant by working together in the future, but you assumed that it was in reference to your shared position of personal guards to marleyan volunteers.

you tensed at the familiar weight of a hand on your shoulder, feeling a firm squeeze that you knew all too well. “then we shall be going now. come.”

you immediately complied, giving a brief goodbye to the two men before proceeding quickly behind yelena, practically at her heels as the two of you walked further and further down the hall, shrouded in another bout of tense silence. you escorted her out of the building without issue, through the barracks and all the way to her lodgings, receiving nothing in the way of assurance or acknowledgment the entire way.

you wanted to speak up for yourself, ask if she was angered with you, anything to fill the quiet void, but you couldn't bring your mouth to push the words free. you hoped that she'd at least offer you her usual goodbye, as inherently lifeless and out of polite necessity as it may be, but it didn't come even as you unlocked the door to her quarters and held it open for her to enter, not even turning back before she sat herself at her desk and got to work on the clutter of papers occupying it.

you left her, feeling strangely heavy with defeat, unable to focus on anything for long before your mind strayed back to her upset expression, or the physical evidence of her displeasure with you. over the next hours, you constantly checked your watch, counting down the minutes to dinner, to when you'd be able to justify being in her presence and hopefully receive some sort of indicator that you were in the clear. you'd always been someone who did what was asked of you, a people pleaser—but there was something different about the inclination you felt towards yelena. it wasn't the kind of obedience that you gave to your superiors, she wasn't anything close to your superior in a technical sense, but somehow it felt natural, a servitude borne out of free will rather than one determined by ranking.

you knew you hadn't done anything wrong by denying her initially, but yet you still hoped for her forgiveness.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you quivered at the feeling of her lips sucking at the already marked skin of your neck, thighs squeezing tighter around her waist, her nails digging deep enough into them that they nearly threatened to tear the fabric of your pants. you swallowed down yet another moan, one hand working its way deeper into her short hair, the other clenching tightly to the fabric of her barely-buttoned dress shirt. your soft, shuddering breaths filled the space of the open air around you, the fear of knowing your squad leader was just outside the door waiting for a reply, adjacent to the wall that she'd pushed you up against despite your meek warnings that dinner would be starting any minute now, was almost tangible in your stomach.

she pulled away from the reddened flesh with a low hum, nipping at your ear as she demanded, "make him go away."

you barely nodded, eyes screwing shut when she began yet another bruising assault to your shoulder, not even giving you enough time to collect yourself and speak. "i apologize, s-sir. miss yelena wasn't f-feeling well, so i brought her meal h-h-here instead of escorting her to the cafeteria..!"

you nearly whimpered as her teeth sank into the soft junction between your neck and shoulder, silently praying to any higher power that may be listening for your superior to just leave already. "understood. please return the plates to the cafeteria before they close up and make it to the dormitories before curfew."

"y-yes, sir..!"

you could barely count his descending steps down the porch over the sound of your own blood roaring in your ears, only completely assured of his absence when she sighed against your skin, soothing the ache with a few apologetic licks, pressing her lips everywhere they could reach. you often found yourself recalling the first time this had happened, when the two of you were sitting at the table in her quarters and she had been apologizing for the day she'd ordered you out of the meeting room. you could still remember how her touch had trailed from stroking at your wrist, crescent nail prints still occupying your skin, to cupping your face, drawing you close to kiss her again and again—the heat of her proximity, how her hands had felt and caressed every inch of your body, whispering a breathless, endless stream of praises into your ear as you came apart under her.

though you had vowed to yourself that wouldn't allow it to happen again, that that night would be your first and only instance of giving into that weakness she'd slowly but surely carved into you, but you found yourself sinking into her arms when she beckoned you, sewing the buttons of your shirt back into place without complaint after the nights where she had become impatient and accidentally popped them free, staring at your naked body in the mirror after your long showers and tracing your fingers over the bruises she'd sucked and bitten into your tender skin.

she only marked you in places where you could hide them beneath your clothes, places which assured that she would be the sole individual to see them when she stripped you bare, only to add more and more. there was no set time between those late evenings, sometimes the interval would be less than a few days, and other times it would stretch out for weeks with no indication as to when the next occasion would come. but when it did, any semblance of self-restraint had completely diminished.

"you're such a good pet for me.." she cooed, her words sending a warm spark through every inch of you.

she'd become fond of calling you that, and a part of you wondered if that was all she saw you as, as only a pet or a possession. you'd accepted that she had the upper hand in this relationship, whatever it may be, but you couldn't help enjoying the feeling of being desired so deeply, being touched and admired in ways you'd never even imagined before you met her. your arms clasped tighter around her neck as she pulled you away from the wall, laying you out on her bed, taking a moment to strip out of her shirt before lowering herself on top of you.

her hands busied themselves ridding you of your chest wrappings, lips attentively traversing each inch of newly revealed skin, murmuring curses and sweet nothings that only made you squirm more beneath her, impatient and eager. you mewled when she'd finally settled her hands over her bare breast, large palms pressing into soft flesh, slender fingers pinching at your nipples. she turned her head up to kiss you, tongue outlining the seam of your lips before sliding into your mouth, claiming it as her own.

you were left panting when she pulled away despite its briefness, hazy, low-lidded eyes finding her own, intoxicated by that carnal look, dark pupils nearly overtaking the piercing grey of her irises. she only smirked at your lack of composure, dipping her head back down to suck and bite at the valley of your breasts, your fingers reflexively tightening in her hair. your hips bucked up into nothing, desperate for any sort of friction, much to yelena's amusement.

"aren't you just the neediest little thing?" she paused to lave her tongue over a pert bud, drawing another heated sigh from you as you nodded, hoping that your agreement could persuade her to not spend so much time teasing you.

she granted you the slightest relief, taking your nipple between your lips and sucking at it, the hand not occupied with another breast trailing down the scar etched into your side, following the path down to your navel to begin unbuttoning your pants. each second seemed to drag on longer than the last, and though you knew that she wasn't purposely drawing out the process of undressing you, it was still not enough. you were practically kicking your underwear to the floor by the time they made their way around your ankles, skin still burning hot despite being fully exposed to the air.

"p-please, miss yelena.." you whimpered at the feeling of her hand tracing up and down your inner thigh, occasionally stopping to stroke across the raised lines of skin that had been inscribed into your skin by the series of belts and buckles on your gear harness, but never proceeding that final inch up to where you needed it.

she pulled away to let out a low chuckle, peering up at you through dark lashes, bare chest pressed flush against your stomach. she drank in the way your face shifted as she rested the pad of her thumb over your clit, rubbing languid circles over it as her pointer finger dipped down your cunt, instantly slick with your arousal.

"you're so worked up from just that?" she taunted, speaking at barely a murmur, "or was it because somebody was listening?"

you felt the knot of anticipation drawing tight in the pit of your stomach, watching as she took her fingers in her mouth and licked over them, thighs shuddering when she returned to their previous position. "i-it was— i j-just— please.."

you could barely form a coherent thought, back arching up to urge your body as close to hers as you could manage, only cognizant of just how close you were to being relieved of that unbearable pressure welling within you. she only smiled, close-lipped and cunning, resting her head over your heaving chest.

"your heart is racing. i wonder how much faster i could make it go.."

you nearly whined as two fingers slid into you with little resistance, her mouth closing over a nipple, alternating between gently tugging at it with her teeth and flicking over it with the tip of her tongue. your hips rocked up into her hand, matching the pace of her wrist as your head dug back into the mattress, moans and incoherent pleas spilling from your parted lips.

you could feel yourself quickly approaching that rapturous peak, hands fisting the sheets under you, white stars blotting out your vision as she curled her fingers just right. you shuddered, gasping, eyes rolling aimlessly into the back of your head as the tension that had wound itself into every muscle finally released, coming completely undone beneath her. you pressed a shaking hand over your mouth, muffling the sound of your winded breaths, letting out a small noise when she relieved you of her fingers. you felt her lips grazing over your chest, forcing your head up to look at her with bleary eyes when their feather-light touch proceeded lower and lower down your stomach.

you had expected things to come to an end as they usually did, with her pulling her clothes back on before you even had the chance to see straight and gathering your own garments from the floor to hand to you, leaving you to walk back to your dormitories on trembling legs in your wrinkled uniform. but there was no sign of that immediate withdrawal as she gathered your thighs in her hands, lifting your legs up onto her shoulders as she pressed a brief kiss over your naval.

you licked your lips nervously, already more than too sensitive at just the feeling of her breath over your soaked cunt. you opened your mouth to meekly object or ask for just a moment longer to catch your breath, but she shushed you, her heavy-lidded gaze sending a fresh bout of heat across your skin. each little quiver of your thighs only made her grip fasten, unable to keep still as she kissed at the scars and soft flesh, drawing a stifled whimper when she stopped to suck a deep mark at a spot of untarnished skin.

you could see the pale expanse of yelena's back, pristine and absent of any previous traumas, the complete opposite of your own. the first time you'd see her undressed, you couldn't take your eyes off of her slender frame, lined with muscle from her days as a soldier but still so delicate. you'd never left any marks when she'd allow you to kiss at her neck and chest, only enough to see the rosy flush settle over her body, but by that time she was more than eager to get back to playing with you instead.

you took in a deep, unsteady breath, jaw clenching and stomach tightening as her tongue drew flat up the length of your cunt, a small moan breaking from your parted lips. she pressed forward, flicking the tip of her tongue over your clit in a merciless rhythm, holding your thighs apart to accommodate her presence each time they attempted to squeeze shut. you writhed over the sheets, her name slipping from you between high-pitched whines and labored breaths, minutes melting past in an incomprehensible blur, leaving you only cognizant of her tongue and hands dragging you back over that edge again and again.

by the time she'd released you, you could barely hold your eyes open, thighs aching from her fingers digging into them, throat raw from crying out for her and gasping in what never seemed to be enough air, feeling too exhausted to even think about making the walk back to your own room. but rather than hand your clothes to you in a silent cue for your departure, you watched her make her way back up the mattress to lay beside you, pulling your heavy, sweat-slicked body against her own. you couldn't try to refuse the comfort of her warmth, face pressing into her chest, breathing in her soft, clean scent, still occasionally trembling as you tentatively allowed your hands to cling to her.

you told yourself not to get comfortable, to try to regain control of your limbs by the time her sympathy for overworking you had worn off and she ordered you away for the night, but the demand never came. you felt a large hand settle at the base of your neck, another splaying across the small of your back, her chin resting on the crown of your head, holding you close like a lover would.

"you could stay for the night if you'd like." her tone was even and collected as it always was, but hushed, like she was murmuring a secret to you.

you knew that sleeping her had already far overstepped whatever boundary had been abandoned that night she'd first kissed you, the morning where she'd marveled at your body and commended your courage, every instance you'd obeyed her rather than carry out the simple orders you were given. it was already too late to tear yourself away from this presence that you'd grown so familiar with—the one that you had feared, the one that you now craved despite how you knew you shouldn't.

"thank you, miss yelena." you whispered hoarsely, curling into her, allowing your heavy eyes to close.

that would be the first and last time you ever spent the night in her quarters.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the banquet to celebrate the completion of the rail system in trost was minutes away from commencing. the speaking podium was empty for the moment, soldiers and civilians chattering amongst themselves as they waited for the military officials to gather at the stage. you were authorized to be in the private area as yelena's personal escort, seeing as she had participated in the mapping of the railroad through the district and would be acknowledged as a contributor to the advancement of paradis.

but as excited as you were to celebrate, eat good food and hopefully get a chance to drink, you weren't looking forward to transferring your position to floch forster for the remainder of the night. although, your desire to stay by yelena's side had been momentarily dissuaded by the desire to please her when she'd requested the change a few days prior. you hadn't bothered to hide your disappointment, nor did you hold back your questions.

"change to forster? but.. why?" you had asked, in the privacy of her quarters, feeling an immediate disheartening at her words.

she didn't directly respond, the hand that had been at your shoulder rising to pet at your cheek. "you trust me, don't you?"

"y-yes, but—"

"then file a request to change with him."

you couldn't explain why you had felt such a cool emptiness burrowing into your chest, a sudden spite for the other soldier beginning to fester in the back of your mind, the thought that she would choose him over you inspiring an indescribable irateness. you turned away from her hand, not thinking of how you were pouting like a child, unwilling to meet her eyes or compromise with her. you'd been fretting over how she hadn't spared you any sort of affection in the nearly two months that had passed, the fear that she'd grown tired of you an incessant whisper in your ear. but then she had reached for you, treated you gently, persuading with that hint of sincerity she rarely ever showed you.

"it would only be for the evening, i have business to attend to that night. i'm sure you've been looking forward to the celebration?" a frown tugged at your lips, only offering a small nod in reply, meeting her eyes when she guided you by your chin to face her. "then transfer with forster, have fun for the evening—you deserve it."

you couldn't help but preen under her praise, meeting her eyes, heart stuttering at the sight of her barely-there smile. you finally caved after a moment of thought, relenting to her wishes. "i'll put in a temporary transfer request tomorrow afternoon."

"thank you, dear."

despite how you weren't exactly looking forward to forster's arrival to relieve you from duty, those final words lifted your spirits just the slightest bit. perhaps she had simply been caught up in the stress of such a grand achievement, too busy attending meetings with engineers and generals and event staff to make any spare time for you for the past weeks. you had waited for weeks before, you could continue waiting if need be. you were at her beck and call, and as long as it pleased her, you were perfectly fine doing as such.

you let out a soft sigh at the sigh of floch forster approaching, weaving through the scattered crowd with a stoic, dutiful look plastered across his expression.

"good evening, floch." yelena said from beside you.

he replied with a polite good evening to both you and her, adding your name as more of an afterthought than anything, but turning his focus back to you when you still hadn't stepped away. "you can go, i'll take it from here."

your gaze flickered over to yelena, feeling yourself relax as she nodded to you, a hand resting at your shoulder to gently urge you forward. "i'll see you tomorrow morning. enjoy yourself tonight."

so you took your leave, watching the ceremony in the company of your fellow soldiers, eyes always wandering away from the speaker and to yelena at the side of the stage. the speech concluded, the crowd cheered and applauded, and everyone was directed to the banquet hall where the remainder of the event would be held. you watched yelena and floch walk off the stage with the other officials, becoming distracted for just a moment speaking to someone but having lost sight of them by the time you looked back.

you didn't see yelena for the remainder of the night, but you did as you were told, enjoying the good food, talking to your friends, avoiding any alcohol in preparation for your usual early morning. it was all over quite quickly, and the next morning came and went, business as usual for the remainder of the next few days—then came the news of eren jaeger's disappearance, then the plans of the all-hands-on-deck operation that was to be the retrieval effort for the young man, the entire scouting branch thrown into overdrive.

and, though you never mustered the courage to ask, you felt a sinking feeling deep inside, that yelena's nightly errand with floch and eren's absence were somehow connected, that there was much more going behind the scenes that you couldn't even begin to fathom.

just wanted to give u guys a little gift for my birthday (´･ᴗ･ ` )

#yelena #snk yelena #yelena x reader #yelena x reader smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk x you #aot x you #aot x reader smut #snk x reader smut #yelena brainrot #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction

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jinnwenhe · 3 years

Text

regarding romance!

╒══════════════════╕

Used artwork credits

Hop

Bede

Leon

Raihan

╘══════════════════╛

———☆️

Hop🍀

It started as the cliché love story about falling in love with your very own bestfriend

Which, actually turned out great??

His Zacian/Zamazenta loves you as much as it's trainer does, and is willing to protect you from anything

Probably because it observed Hop being protective over you, and proceeding to do the same

Sure it might took a toll on him when you defeated him on the championship semi-finals, but he wanted you to be happy more than anything

He's such a sweetheart even if he doesn't show it much

The type to appreciate small little things, especially when it comes from you

"Let's camp together!!"

You camped together

He got chased by a wild steelix whilst trying to gather data for his research later

His Zamazenta/Zacian was busy playing with your own legendary

*from the distance* "GAH! HELP!"

You ran after him and calmed down the wild steelix

Then you walked to him and checked if he got any wounds or scratches, which leads you to cupping his face gently with a worried look on your face

Hop's blushing

He's freaking out inside

You didn't notice the tint of blush dusting his cheeks,which gradually reddens with each second that passes

"im okay, dont worry" he tried his best reassuring you

Even though he's blushing, he proceeded to press his forehead gently against yours, closing his eyes and smiling

oh no he's cute

You're blushing

haha blushy reader

You let him do his thing, its somewhat calming

He's warmm

His hands are calloused, different from yours; you just remembered this when he placed his hand on top of yours while you were checking for his wounds from before

This just shows how much he's been working off to reach the champion title

And yet he's completely alright with you taking the spotlight

After all, you're his shining star

And he wouldn't have it in any other way

You let him borrow your champion cape

And he lets you borrow his labcoat

It fits just right with you! And it got his scent, which calms you down whenever you're feeling anxious

When you wear his labcoat, you're 1000000000% irresistible to his eyes

"Don't be so adorableee" he said as he pulled you into a hug and burying his face in your neck

You only laughed softly at his reaction. He was blushing too,,,

You often waited for him to finish his lab work, even if it's until late hours

He's a really hard worker, no wonder he stayed until late

"Im sorry for making you wait"

He looks exhausted, but tried his best to pull a bright smile, not wanting to worry you

You only gave him a warm hug, which surprised him at first before he hugs you back and proceed to walk you to your house

💓💓💓 < your heart

Comfort time

There's usually some jerks who'd tease you for being the champion, or flirt with you in an impolite way

If Hop caught on to this, he would politely ask them to leave

If they still dont understand, his legendary comes out of his pokeball and growl at them

He'd ask them one more time to stop bothering you, but this time, with a menacing smile that says "stay here any longer and you wont get to see another daylight"

Then he'd check up on you, asking if you're alright, if they did anything to you or whatnot

Hed wrap his arms around your waist and drape his labcoat over you, because he knows his labcoat always manages to calm you down

"It's okay, you're okay, everything is alright now, c'mere"

You let him hug you as you feel safe around him, and you two stayed in that position until you feel alright again

💕💕

———☆️

Bede🍰

He's not the best at showing affection but at least he tries

You help him come out with quizzes for his gym challenge

And sometimes joke about the poses he makes when practicing

Sometimes, he gets reminded that you're the champion of Galar and he's way out of your trainer level

Which actually motivates him to become the strongest gym leader there is by pushing past his limits

"I'll show you how strong fairy types can be"

He said to himself as he was thinking about you

People kept misunderstanding fairy types after all, and thats a big mistake

You appreciate his efforts in maxing out his strength, and you show it by coming to his fairy stadium whenever he battles a challenger

You texted him "good luck, I'll be cheering 4 u!❤️❤️👍" before his matches start

And you looked at his direction after sending the message

He has just gotten your message, and opened it

Which leads to him blushing furiously as he covers his face with one of his hands

He took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure, only to fail miserably when he saw you looking at his direction with pure ambition and determined eyes as you grinned happily

All that i could say is, he's red as a beet

He wont lose this match, not when you're watching him.

He puts extra effort when you're watching his match, and made sure not to slip up. It'd be embarrassing if he did.

Opal notices this and only smiled seeing her successor acting out of his place whenever you're around

Opal knows something that you dont, and that's Bede's feelings for you

After his match ended, his Hatterene walked towards your direction, pulling you into a tight hug

You were surprised, but apparently Hatterene has grown to like you ever since she first met you

And when you look at Bede's direction, he was looking away with his arms crossed infront of his chest, visibly drowning in embarassment

,,,you wondered, is Bede projecting on his Hatterene or what,

Yes, yes he is

So you asked him if he also wants a hug, which of course he answered with "Why would i want a hug from someone like you? That'd be an insult to me"

You let go of Hatterene and hugged him anyways

He flinched when you hugged him, not knowing where to put his hands and just let them stay still in a defensive pose

Hatterene watched with a smile from behind you, seeing her master in such a flustered state was truly something new for the Pokemon

Not long after, Bede finally let his arms wrap around your waist, giving in to his subconscious and just hug you

he wanted to hug you anyways so thats a win win situation

You were actually surprised when he hugged you back

He smells nice!! Like perfume?? Cologne?? Floral scent

His Hatterene decided to join in and wrapped her arm around you both, making you all hug even more tightly

Bede cant handle this well.

No, not at all.

His face was really red and its hot— in all honesty, its cute, but he was burning

"Why do you have to embarrass me like this?"

You buried your face in his neck, which startled him as he couldn't think at all

"Y-you!!"

He feels nice and soft, so you're not planning to let go any sooner, likewise with Hatterene.

Bede's mind: ASDFGHJKL????—GODDAMMI—

OKAY NOW COMFORT TIME

His true nature would come out when you're not feeling yourself or when people would makw you feel like shit

"Hey.."

His face shows concern, but it still his usual look of coldness— however, his actions are warm despite his cold features

He'd let you wear his coat as he battles anyone who dared to hurt you

"Are you alright now..?"

He cupped your face and made you look at his face, swiping off the tears that stained your face with his thumbs delicately

He hated seeing you cry, and he'll try better next time to make sure you didn't cry

———☆️

Leon🌟

He's kind at all but sometimes he's just... "???????"

Training!! Dates!!

More like battle tower dates because he really admires your strength as a champion

Occasionally, he'd visit your house and check up on you, wondering if you're free for the day for "quality time"

At first, he was surprised to see one of the legendaries answering the door for you

And he couldn't resist to ruffle it's hair

your legendary on the other hand was kind of irritated by it

So it let out a displeased howl

Which leads you to come down stairs and see who is it

"L—leon?"

He looked up and greet you with a goofy grin as your legendary returned to your side, walking with you

He treats you like a gentleman, and sometimes is very strict with your training regimen

In which you usually whine about because you're the current champion and you have no business listening to him

But he'd swoon you with lovely words

And you would easily fall for it

you hate this

You hate him

No you dont

You love him, you could never hate a goofball like him anyways

Hey did i ever mention Leon's sense of direction is shitty

You went on a date in Wyndon a couple of times and he still gets lost everytime

"Ah!! Hey—....."

"Im lost again aren't i?"

He tried to find his way back to you but got surrounded by paparazzis

Even if he's not the current champion

You saved his butt since he couldn't say no to the people and his fans

He said thank you and hugged you, lifting you up to the air before pulling you close to him

This only made you laugh softly as you hugged him back, letting your fingers comb his thick lavender like hair

His body is warm and comforting, you really like his cuddles and hugs

He came into your house one time when you didn't answer his calls or messages, only to find you drown in your anxiety and self loathing

He pulled you in his arms and let you cry on his shoulder until you're all done and alright again

He'd draw circles over your back and tell you reassuring words— tell you that you're more than enough and he's grateful to have you here, alive and well

Your Zacian/Zamazenta got out of it's pokeball and helped you in calming you down too by giving you small licks on your knee

It'd whine whenever you're sad and climb onto your bed, nudging your arm afterwards as if it's asking what's wrong

You're lucky to have them both whenever you need them the most, and they're lucky to have you

———☆️

Raihan 🐲

It's finally the Character y'all been waitin for, dragon boi coming through

Okay serious talk here— Raihan is TALL

His hoodies makes you look smaller than you already are

You tried copying his "Gaooo~" pose a couple of times while wearing his hoodie

Its cutest thing he has ever seen his entire life

It makes him melt everytime

Okay aside from that, he's gentle and laid back, even if his personality is quite the opposite when he's on battle

He's cLINGY ASF

Don't forget his fangs, never forget his fangs

You're actually curious about his fangs since the first day you saw him

And he lets you touch it whenever you like

Youre still curious, because what the hell, its so cool

The first day you saw him after defeating him in a match and gain your gym badge, he immediately took an interest in you and your strength

"Hey Challenger!"

He called you before you tried to take your leave, gaining your attention

He then asked you if you want to practice with him next time, and have a rematch when you've become the champion

You agreed and exchanged numbers

What can i say, he spams you like?????? A lot

And casually sends you pictures of him and his duraludon

You love his dragons, especially flygon

Flygon loves you too, and one time it wanted to come with you

Raihan lets you keep his Flygon and you send him pictures of you with it

He sends emotes of duraludon crying, wanting to join you and your fun trip with Flygon to grab the Champion title

After you took the Champion title, Raihan greeted you with a big hug

And you hug him back with no hesitation

"Congratulations, may i have a selfie with the new Champion?"

He asked in a teasing manner, letting you down on your feet as you nodded

You took a selfie selfwith him numerous times before he posted it to his social media

He captioned 'First person to get a selfie with the new Champion'

He took pride in that, and some of his fans were jealous that you managed to get a selfie with him

From that day onwards, he'd have casual selfies with you, sometimes hilarious one and sometimes its just for showing off

You didn't mind it really, he's a celebrity anyways, so you understand why he does that

"Hey.. do stars have feelings"

It was three am what the fuck Raihan

You squinted at your screen seeing his message

"Why in the Galar would you be awake, dear Dragon tamer?"

You answered him

And immediately he answered "oh? The Champion is awake?"

You guys didn't sleep afterwards and was sending streaks of blurry selfies

It was fun and helped you cheer up

You got some of his blurry pics that he captioned "party rock in the house" when clearly its just him and his pokemons

What a goofball pt.2

You love him anyways shut up

Haha smol reader pt.2

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maybedefinitely404 · 3 years

Text

Day 29: Prinxiety/Loceit (pt 4)

Aaaand, part 4, the finale!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 29: You have a telepathic link with your soulmate until the two of you meet.

Content warnings: discussion of conversion therapy/after effects, PTSD, food mentions, anxiety/panic attacks, internalized homophobia, mentions of the foster system/abuse (mental, emotional, neglect, past eating disorder), minor self harm/blood, mentions of dissociating.

Word count: 5.1k

Despite Roman’s claims that being around other people would only distract him, and he didn’t want to have to walk to the library every time he had homework, Patton’s constant pleading eventually broke him down. Now, much to his roommate’s delight, they spent every night in the middle of the study floor in the library, and Roman found that he actually looked forward to it. Sometimes someone he knew would walk by, and give him a valid reason to take a short break, and having other people around somehow motivated him to work harder. He was starting to understand the appeal of the place.

Now, Patton and him were spending their afternoon there between classes, both working on their own projects and sharing a bag of popcorn twists. It was the only oil soaked snack that didn’t leave much residue on their fingers. Roman was deep in thought, struggling to remember an especially flowery Shakespeare monologue for a mock audition next week, when Patton kicked his leg under the table.

“What, Pat?” He took another moment to finish the sentence before he tore his eyes away from the book, surprised at his roommate’s barely contained excitement.

“You’ve been humming for half an hour!”

He hadn’t even noticed. He tended to do it a lot without realizing; humming along to his soulmate’s music. Ever since he’d come back almost a year ago, an occurrence he’d never had explained but held onto with fondness, Roman’s heart jumped every time his music played. It was just like old times, their old system immediately reinstated, and more than once he’d found himself singing along to the melodies in his head. Patton knew this, and could probably tell by the genre whether Roman was listening to his soulmate’s songs, or just had his own earworm.

“No, no, no, I like your humming! That’s not the point!”

“Then what’s the-”

“The guy behind you has his earbuds loud enough to hear!”

Roman strained his ears, and yes, he could barely hear the music coming from behind him. He definitely hadn’t noticed before, too deep in thought to notice something so trivial. But Patton was always on high alert, never able to keep his mind on one thing at a time.

“Okay, but what does that ha-”

“You’ve been humming the same songs as he’s been listening to for half an hour, Ro! I think he’s your soulmate!”

Roman’s eyes widened and he spun around, effectively dropping his book onto the ground. Yeah, if he concentrated, he could tell that the song in his head was the same as the one just audible through the other’s earbuds.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive!”

That’s all the convincing Roman needed. He jumped to his feet and rounded the other table so he was face to face with the stranger and knocked on the table a couple times. When he made eye contact, he thought he saw fear in the other’s face, but that couldn’t be right. Roman was not intimidating. The man at the table reached up to pop out one of his earbuds.

“Hello lovely, I have a question for you,” Roman purred, dropping onto his elbows on the table.

“I- I don’t-”

Apparently that counted as a meeting, because in that moment, the music in Roman’s head faded into nothingness. And he could tell it wasn’t just the music being paused. He was left with a neutral emptiness he hadn’t felt in a long time, a silence that was rare, and an innate knowledge that it had happened: their link was no longer necessary and had dissipated. Roman grinned wide, barely concealing a squeal.

“You’re my soulmate!”

He didn’t know what reaction he was expecting, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected the man at the table to get up and sprint out of the building at full speed.

“Stay here, Ro,” Patton was suddenly at his side, laying a hand on his bicep, “I’ll go after him. I don’t know what just happened but I don’t want it to happen again.”

Patton scooped up the other man’s things from the table and jogged out the library door.

-----

Virgil didn’t know where he was going; he hadn’t planned on running out of the library. Dammit, he hadn’t planned to run into his soulmate. And he knew that was his soulmate, and not just some weird coincidence. Because the moment they’d locked eyes, it was as if something in his mind had snapped, like a rubber band that had always been there but the pressure was so constant he didn’t notice it there until it was gone. Their bond had snapped; it was no longer necessary, because he’d met his soulmate.

He recognized the guy, just barely. They were in the same first year math class, a course often taken by upperclassmen (probably like his soulmate) because they’d put off getting a math credit until their final years. Logan had warned Virgil of that when he was choosing his first year courses, and so he was safely getting it out of the way so he could focus on his major in the coming years.

His breathing was choppy and strained as he tried to calm down his panic attack, dropping onto the ground under a large tree. He couldn’t keep running lest he collapse and draw more attention to himself, and that was far worse than anything he could imagine. Fighting the urge to scratch at his skin, he buried his head in his hoodie clad arms, fumbling with one hand to free his phone from his pocket.

It’s actually a guy, it’s a guy, he’s gay, wrong wrong wrong-

No, not wrong. It’s not wrong.

Yes it is, it’s going to hurt, you’re going to hurt, wrong wrONG WRONG!

His hands were shaking far too hard to text but he tried anyways, begging Janus to come pick him up early. Logan wouldn’t be done work for another couple hours, and usually Virgil would be fine just doing homework until his dad was ready to drive them home, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle being on campus much longer.

“Hey, kiddo?”

Virgil’s head jerked up just as he clicked send, fighting every urge in his body to bolt again. It wasn’t the guy… his soulmate… but someone else he hadn’t met before, panting.

“Heya, my name’s Patton! You ran out without your stuff, so I brought it!”

Oh, he was holding his backpack, and his folder under one arm. Virgil was just trying to encourage his legs to move, to stand so he could take his things, when the stranger dropped into the grass in front of him. He flinched.

“Here ya go,” He pushed it towards him like a child trying to coax out a scared cat, “I’m so sorry me and Ro scared you. He just gets over excited sometimes. I promise he’s actually very gentle.”

Virgil stared, pulling in a halting breath.

“The guy who ran up to you, that’s Roman. I’m his roommate, by the way. I’m Patton. Did I introduce myself? Doesn’t matter. I’m a third year psychology major. Roman’s in third year too, music and theatre major.”

He should probably introduce himself too, but his hands were frozen, clamped around his phone, and he found his voice wasn’t cooperating. That didn’t deter the other dude, though.

“Here, I wrote out both of our numbers. Roman feels super bad for scaring you, so you can take your time, if you want.” He delicately placed a ripped piece of notebook paper on the backpack between them, “His is the first one. But I put mine in there too, so you can text me if you want to talk. The more friends, the better.”

Virgil’s phone buzzed, alerting him of Janus’ response.

“I’ll let you be, okay? Remember to text!” With an exuberant wave, he dashed back to the library. Virgil read Janus’ panicked message, asking what had happened, in a bit of a daze. His dad agreed to come get him, so he stuffed the paper into his pocket and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

-----

Janus had asked him not to go into his room when he was so worked up, instead giving him free reign of the living room while the older restarted the dinner he’d abandoned in favor of picking his son up. He’d turned on the TV for Virgil, changing the channel to a nature documentary, given Virgil his favorite weighted blanket, and left him with strict orders to call him if he started spiraling or needed a hug.

The distraction had worked for a while, the soothing voice of the narrator almost lulling him to sleep, until his racing brain had come to the conclusion that this was the worst thing to ever happen in the history of ever and that he was going to die alone. He’d been a little hopeful that his soulmate would be a girl, to somewhat appease his trauma, but life was never that easy. A part of him had also been a little miffed about that hope, because as much as he liked to pretend, he had a preference for boys. A big preference. And his soulmate was cute.

“Everything okay, Virgil?” Janus called through the pass through window into the kitchen, taking his eyes off his food preparation to watch his son’s pacing.

“Yup!” He lied, picking and scratching at the skin of his hands out of his dad’s view. The pain settled him a little, giving him something he could control, but he knew he’d get a figurative slap on the wrist for it later. A concerned slap, not an angry one. Maybe more of ‘a cuddle on the couch and wrap the little patches of broken skin and an update with his counsellor’. So not really a slap. At all. As it usually went.

Everything was wrong. What kind of shit first impression had he given his soulmate? Getting up and running away like an actual child? And that was only part of it. He was damaged goods, a broken person, who needed more help and reassurance than any other person. How could he explain to his soulmate that he was the cause of his problems without making him feel guilty? That wasn’t the life the man had signed up for, wasn’t the soulmate burden he’d wanted. He would want someone easy, someone who wouldn’t have panic attacks when they got shocked by a door knob, who didn’t stop eating when they were scared, who pressed pause on life when he woke up in a dissociating headspace. He couldn’t say that to him. He’d lost everything, that vague musical connection to an invisible soulmate, that had given him a subtle hope. It had been a quiet illusion, a promise that he’d be fine if it were never fulfilled. Knowing there was someone out there, providing him music, had been enough. But now…

“Virgil, hold these for me.”

When had Logan gotten home? He put his hands out obediently, clenching the fingers over the ice cubes placed in each palm. The sensation startled him and sent a shiver up his spine.

“Four, seven, eight. Ready?”

He followed the breathing pattern eagerly, feeling the curls of anxiety in his stomach slowly settle into butterflies. When he was breathing normally, an overwhelming sense of dizziness almost knocked him over. Logan took his arm and led him to the couch.

The next moment, Janus was kneeling in front of him, rubbing disinfectant into his few bloody scratches, the melting water dripping through his fingers and onto the carpet.

“I should have noticed,” he murmured as he stuck a couple bandaids onto each hand, refusing to meet Virgil’s eyes.

“Don’t blame yourself, Janus. I don’t think it was happening for too long,” Logan assured, running a hand down Virgil’s spine. “Did this have to do with the reason you left school early today?”

Virgil nodded.

“Are you nonverbal?”

“No,” he choked, clearing his throat, “Just dry throat.”

“I got it,” Janus leapt to his feet and hurried to the kitchen.

With a heavy sigh, Virgil leaned into Logan’s side, the hand on his back traveling to wrap around his shoulder comfortingly. The last drops of the ice cube hit the carpet, and he dried his hands off on his jeans. “I met my soulmate today.”

“I see,” Logan said. For the umpteenth time, Virgil was beyond grateful that Logan was an expert at masking reactions. It made difficult conversations easier.

“It’s a guy.”

“How did that go?”

“I ran out of the library and had a panic attack. His roommate brought me my stuff and gave me their numbers. I made an idiot out of myself.”

Logan was quiet, giving Virgil a little squeeze. A water glass was pressed into his hands and Virgil downed the whole thing, passing it back to Janus, who placed it on the coffee table.

“I think… I think I’m magnifying. Maybe.” He described his thoughts that led to his spiral as quickly as possible, feeling slightly pleased when Logan agreed with his hypothesis.

“You are definitely magnifying. Good job for recognizing that, Virgil. You don’t even know him, much less what he thought of your interaction.”

“What’s our next step?” Janus spoke up, resting a hand on Virgil’s knee and rubbing it with his thumb.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Can you sleep on it, and message him tomorrow?”

Virgil thought about for a second before shaking his head even harder, “No. I have class with him tomorrow, and we’re getting a study guide for a test. I can not miss it. But what if he comes up to me, or wants to talk, and I embarrass myself again, and-”

His dads both hushed him at the same time and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes against Logan’s side. “What do I do?”

“You could message him tonight,” Janus drawled.

“Are you crazy?” He shrieked, “No! What would I even say? ‘Hey, you freaked me out today, sorry for running like a lunatic’?!”

“Why not explain the cause for your hasty escape?” Logan piped in.

“That’s way too much to load onto him as a first conversation.”

“Not all the gory details, just a vague explanation. That’s how I started talking to Logan,” Janus stated, adjusting his position on the floor. “If he’s your soulmate, Virge, he’ll be okay to deal with this. It’ll come out eventually, and if something else happens, it will be nice for him to have some context.”

Virgil groaned. “I hate when you make sense.”

“We can help you construct an adequate message.” Logan squeezed him again, meeting Janus’ eyes with a small smile.

“Fine.” Virgil snarled, pulling out his phone and the two numbers, typing the first one into his ‘new contact’ list. “Okay, what do I say?”

-----

V: Hey, I’m Virgil. We met earlier today. In a manner of speaking.

R: OMG, hi! I’m Roman. I am SO sorry for startling you!

V: It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.

R: I still feel bad DX

“He feels bad, what do I do?!”

“I would suggest explaining the reason you ran off to ease his concerns.”

“Me too. But ask first, and don’t give more details than you’re comfortable with.”

V: Can I be brutally honest for just a second?

R: Should I be nervous? Haha go ahead!

V: I was forced into conversion therapy about a year back, and I still carry a lot of the trauma with me. That’s why I ran. It was just gut instinct.

“He’s not responding, oh god, he’s going to block me, why isn’t he responding?!”

“I assume this news would take a moment to process. Focus on your breathing, Virgil. Don’t magnify.”

“You also sent it, like, ten seconds ago.”

R: Holy shit, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.

“...That’s not what I expected.”

“This is a regular reaction from a human being with even a lick of common sense, Virgil.”

“Seconded.”

V: It’s okay, I have a really great support system now.

R: That’s good. I’ve never experienced anything like that, so I can only imagine how hard that was.

R: I don’t expect you to answer if you don’t want to or don’t know, so please don’t feel pressured, but do you know what kind of soulbond we have? Is it platonic?

“Shit, fuck, who do I answer that?”

“With the truth, I’d imagine. Do you have an answer to his question?”

“Remember what I told you, kid. Your own pace.”

“Logan, if I explain it, can you put it into words? Please?”

V: I’m not averse to a possible romantic relationship in the future, but at the moment I am still learning to become comfortable with myself, as I have negative connections to that part of my identity that can become problematic if not properly worked through at my own pace.

R: Give me a couple seconds to decode that

V: My dad wrote it, he’s a prof. I have both of them helping me not freak out right now.

R: You might want to date one day, but you need to take it slow because of your trauma.

V: Uhm… yeah. I could have said it like that.

R: Is talking to me upsetting you? We can always talk another time.

V: No, I’m okay.

R: Okay, then as far as I’m concerned, we move at your pace. That’s not an issue for me at all.

“I… oh. He’s… wow.”

“I agree with your sentiment.”

“I like this boy already.”

“DAD!”

R: Your dad’s a prof?

V: One of them is. He teaches at our school, Prof Sanders. 4th year chemistry?

R: Oh shit. I’m in his class.

V: Lol he thinks he knows you

R: You have two dads?

V: Yep

R: That’s so cool. I’d really love to meet them.

V: Wow, we met today and you’re already wanting to meet my parents?

R: Heeey, I want to meet them as a FRIEND.

V: My dad says after the semester’s over, you’re free to come by

One at a time, Virgil’s dads left him on the couch with an ear to ear grin, Janus to reheat dinner and Logan following him just so he could cling to his husband's waist as he moved around the kitchen. Neither of them wanted to disturb the little bubble their son was in.

-----

In the weeks following, they’d started to sit together in the one class they shared. Virgil had begun to join him and Patton on their nightly library study sessions, and after some more gentle convincing, had given in to sitting with their whole friend group during meals at the cafeteria. He was growing more comfortable with Roman, no doubt about that.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t fighting off an anxiety attack as he waited by the door to get picked up for their first outing alone.

He kept checking his phone and glancing out the peephole as Janus ran calming fingers through his hair. Virgil leaned into the touch instinctively, consciously slowing his breathing as Janus hummed. Logan was watching him from the entrance to the hall, leaning on the kitchen door frame. There wasn’t much he could do, but dammit if he wasn’t going to watch his son go off on the most anxiety inducing situation of all of their lives.

“You’ll be okay, kid,” Janus muttered, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “You’ve been friends with him for a while now, and he said there were no expectations. You’re in total control here.”

“What if I have a flashback, or a panic attack, or go nonverbal or something? He’s going to freak the fuck out and then all the work will be for noth-”

Logan spoke up. “You’re worried about things that may not even happen. And besides, haven’t you spoken to Roman about these things already?”

“A bit. Not in detail,” he whispered.

“I would suggest you do so, today if possible. It will make any possible situations that arise easier and less jarring to deal with.”

Virgil looked up at Janus, a pleading look in his eyes.

“He’s right, kid. The sooner you get it out of the way, the better.”

There was a knock at the door and Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin. To his disdain, Janus backed away until he was next to Logan, gesturing at the door with a small smile. Virgil growled out a curse and opened the door, the scowl on his face melting into a sickeningly authentic smile.

“How’s my favorite emo? Hi Mr. Sanders, hey Prof.”

“Hello.”

“Salutations.”

“Your favorite emo?” Virgil snarked, pulling on his jacket. It wasn’t cold, not in the slightest, but he’d rather have the extra layer.

“You’re the only emo I know, so the choice is easy.”

“By process of elimination, doesn’t that also imply I’m your least favorite emo too?”

“Don’t start this again, Mr. Son-of-a-professor.”

“I’ll start it if I want to!”

The door closed behind them with one final wave to his parents, and the house was quiet. Janus leaned into Logan’s waiting arms, resting his head on the other’s collar bone.

“He’s all grown up.”

“That he is, my love.”

-----

Virgil smirked as Roman set out a large cliche picnic blanket, gesturing for him to sit. He did, crossing his legs and leaning on his knees as the other began to unload the basket.

“Okay, so for sandwiches, I have turkey, peanut butter and jelly, and ham. Patton made me bring apple slices because he’s a dad, but I’m sure we can convince the ducks to eat them.”

To prove his point, a group of ducks paddled out from under a weeping willow half submerged in the creek.

“I like apples,” Virgil defended, grabbing a slice from the open container and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. “How many people were you intending to feed with that much food?”

Roman pouted from behind a container of potato salad. “I had to show off my food skills, duh.”

“You made that?” Virgil asked with raised eyebrows as Roman set out a tin of mini quiches and a smaller one stacked with brownies and cookies.

“The cookies were Patton’s, but he insisted I take some. And I would have bought more, but…” He tipped the basket towards Virgil, revealing the bottom absolutely filled with different canned drinks and water bottles. “I didn’t know what you wanted to drink.”

Virgil actually did laugh as he stretched forward to snag a Doctor Pepper, taking another apple slice as he sat back.

“Do you have a sandwich preference?” Roman asked, choosing a Sprite for himself.

“Turkey looks good.” Virgil said before his choice paralysis could come into play, breathing a sigh of relief as Roman handed one of the sandwiches to him. The less stress he added to his own life, the better.

Roman had been right to bring an assortment of food, because dammit, he was a really good chef. Virgil was nervous to try a quiche, since he’d never had them before and the texture was odd to him, but Roman assured that if he didn’t like it, he’d eat it instead. Apparently he wasn’t eeked out by germs. After a nibble though, Virgil ate almost half the tin. Who knew cold eggs could be good? Roman took the ham sandwich, and they split the PB&J. The ducks were more than pleased to be given Roman’s half of the apple slices but Virgil refused to share, since fresh fruits were still a treat after a life of preserves. The younger wasn’t a huge fan of the potato salad, so Roman eagerly finished it, seemingly more excited to move onto the desserts but not wanting to leave any leftovers.

They were just finishing up the frankly absurd amount of cookies and brownies when Roman broke their casual bickering, chasing a chocolate chip bite with a long swig of Sprite and tossing another apple to their swarm of awaiting ducks.

“So, tell me a bit about yourself, Virge.”

“What do you want to know?” Virgil replied, leaning back on his hands.

“Anything, really. Childhood, siblings, favorite color, darkest fear.”

“Quite a spectrum, there.” There was a lot he could talk about, but he felt it might be better to get the bigger things out of the way. Janus was sort of the leading expert on this kind of thing, so his advice had probably been sound. He brushed his hands together to get the crumbs off them as he spoke, “Okay, so I grew up in the foster system.”

Roman tried to hide his wince. “Ouch. I’ve heard a lot of bad things.”

“It’s fucked,” Virgil drawled, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, “I spent most of my time in a group home, though, because I was called ‘difficult’. No one wanted to deal with my ass.”

“Why?”

“Mmm, ran away, didn’t listen, talked back, antagonized any biological kids.”

“So like, a normal teenager?” The last apple slice was sacrificed to the feathered hoard.

Virgil snorted, “Yeah, but I came with a receipt. And I kind of liked the group home more.”

“How many kids were in the home?”

“Never more than fifteen. It was a big home. But they circulated, and I was like a housecat. Never gone for more than a month.”

“Jeez,” Roman sighed, taking a sip of his soda.

“My foster homes weren’t better.”

“Oh?” It was a subtle encouragement to keep talking, but now it was getting into territory that Virgil liked to avoid.

“One of my foster houses was really neglectful, forgot to give us food, didn’t let us do laundry, that kind of stuff. Gave me a wicked ED. I was twelve.”

Roman grimaced.

“My next one was more emotionally and mentally manipulative. I was kind of made into a babysitter for their younger bio kids. I had to get them ready for school, make them dinner, just basically be a parent. After I ran away from them, they started having trouble placing me. I was older, had a shitty record, kind of a left over. I mean, I deserved it. I was a dick.”

“You were a kid, Virgil.”

“A kid who chose to make his own life harder.” He shrugged, “That’s why I was placed into… that home. They were a last resort place for other ‘trouble kids’.”

Virgil took a deep breath and, with Janus’ words in his mind, began to explain his attempted conversion; the slip of tongue that led to the placement, the verbal abuse, food deprivation, electroshock therapy, the snuck antipsychotics, forced isolation, ending with the day the wife had called the police behind her husband’s back out of guilt and he was rescued.

Roman was quiet for a long minute after he finished talking, staring entranced at the can in his hands. The ducks had dispersed during Virgil’s story, upset at the lack of food.

“I…”

Virgil waited for him to get up and leave, to say with false apologies that he didn’t think they would work out, that the connection was wrong. Because who would want to deal with him, his stupid trauma? But the man next to him didn’t move except to breathe, and Virgil took that as an invitation to continue, his tone quieter.

“I was super out of it for a while. Honestly, I don’t remember the rescue, or like a solid month after that, except for snippets here and there. The drugs were fucky. And then my social worker, god bless her heart, found Janus and Logan. Janus was in CT too for a while when he was younger, so they took me in. Took a long time, but I opened up to them, but by then I was eighteen. They still insisted on adopting me, though, and there’s absolutely no convincing Logan once he’s made his mind up, so… they did.” He waved his hands around a little.

“Three months,” Roman blurted out of nowhere, making Virgil flinch.

“What?”

“Were you in ther-... CT for three months?”

“Two and a bit, why?” The moment it was out of his mouth, he realized the implications, and his heart froze.

“You were gone for three months. I thought you died, or… I don’t even know.” Roman looked like he was about to cry, watching Virgil imploringly. Him going MIA must have affected his soulmate more than he’d thought.

“Two months of CT, and then another one before I got a new phone. I’m…” All the guilt he’d felt at the time came rushing back, the reminder of his soulmate’s music dwindling to almost nothing and him being helpless, “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry. That must have been…”

“No, Virgil, you don’t get to apologize. That was not your fault.” He reached out a hand as if to grab Virgil’s and immediately pulled back, wringing his fingers instead. “Sorry, my choice of comforting is physical. But I won’t.”

“Thank you,” Virgil choked out, running his hands through his hair.

“Can you look at me?”

He did, taking a shuddering breath. He was moments away from a panic attack and he was not looking forward to that disaster.

“You were being- quite literally- tortured for months. You were abused in ways that shouldn’t be legal, and you came out the other side stronger. Frankly, I’m amazed at your perseverance. You’re amazing.”

Simultaneously, Virgil felt a hot blush rise to his ears, and a sharp jolt run through his arms into his chest. He jerked violently, tipping over his own soda onto the grass.

“Shit, did I say something wrong?” Roman gasped, reaching over to pluck up the can before it could spill more. It was already half empty, thank goodness.

“No, I just… do that. Sometimes. From… CT. Kind of like ghost shocks, I guess.” Why couldn’t the ground just open up and swallow him whole, he wondered. He hadn’t done that jerk thing in front of anyone in so long. The last time had been in front of his now-parents, and they’d quickly grown used to it. He’d grown used to their own contact very soon and his twitches had stopped after he was accustomed to it, but it had never been directed towards him, and he had a feeling he’d need time to stop his impulse reactions.

“And me calling you amazing…”

“Triggered them. It’s an exposure thing though, so I’ll just need to get used to it. Don’t blame yourself.” He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until bright white flashes of light burst into his vision. Suddenly, he was exhausted.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Roman asked, already packing up their picnic basket. Virgil nodded, his social meter drained, and all ability to be a civil person was quickly deteriorating. His therapist said that would also begin to heal after a while.

Roman was an absolute angel though, letting the silence linger so Virgil could cradle his slowly growing headache, even opening the door of his car like a perfect gentleman. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Virgil rested his head against the seat and let a tiny smile tug at his lips. It would be a long process to retrain his brain (in theory, he was okay with being in a relationship with a man, but actually doing it? Infinitely harder), but for once, he was actually looking forward to the process.

Would you guys like a collection of one shots surrounding Virgil’s gradual warming up to his new family, a decent mix of angst and fluff? I have some ideas.

Thanks for reading! Now, a taglist.

@sapphic-satan

@anxious-logic

@wigsnatchedhoteltrivago

@extraintrovertedalien

@punk-academian-witch

@ray-does-stuff

@chimneychimney

@i-cant-find-a-good-username

@falsemood

@wtf-casper

@cpmansion

@killjoyjay

@fandomfan315

@anxious-darkwolf

@eternalmoonlight19

@winterwynd

@espepspes

@ironwoman359

@willowaudreykeyes

@mycatshuman

@weweregoddesses

@im-an-anxious-wreck

@imknittingahat

@surohsopsisofclouds

@korsaromantic66

@astraheart04

@quartz-z

@mikalya12

@koalas-in-coffee

@isabelle-stars

@a-ghostlight-for-roman

@existentialeggdogg

@pumpkinminette

@coffeeflavoredtears525600

@wyvern-tales

@heyhalloween

@grayson-22

@bullet-tothefeels

@mostlikelytokillyouwithaspoon

@lovelivingmydreams

@sarcasmremovedsoul

@crofterskinnie

@blissbiscuit

@baka-monarch

@lostspacecat

@green-call

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #loceit #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #sanderssides #sanderssidesau #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fanfiction #ts soulmate au

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mammons-tax-returns · 4 years

Note

How would the brothers react to a very punk goth Mc like platforms and all black and just the whole shebang he’s very nice but also will throw hands (there’s not enough male Mc your doing the good work my dude)

BROTHERS REACTING TO A GOTH/PUNK MC

Perfect way to start off the new blog !! Thank you for requesting, hope this is what you had in mind <3 (and that it’s not too apparent that i’m not super well versed in punk or goth culture ACK)

I hope that you guys don’t mind some being shorter than others, I’m still getting a hang of personalities!

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Lucifer is probably one of the ones that’s into the style from the very beginning.

As soon as he sees MC, his interest is clearly shown on his face.

Sometimes, he’ll drop compliments on his fashion. Depending on his reponses, he’ll start getting more apparent with just how much he enjoys seeing his outfit everyday.

GIFTS!! He’s not mammon level of stacks upon stacks of gift wrapped boxes, but he’ll certainly stop by your room every once in a while with a new accessory he saw while shopping.

MC will probably notice that he is especially keen on chokers :).

Stares discreetly, but consistently. When Lucifer invites him to listen to music in his room, he waits until MC is occupied with something like a book or the music. Then sneaks glances at him to see how his clothing moves every time he reaches over for something, or how the necklace he bought the other day glints in the light radiating off of the fireplace.

He knows that MC is nice, and grows increasingly more and more worried for his sake because of that. The exchange program is important, but his treasure perpetually adorned in black garbs is significantly more prominent in his concerns.

So when he sees MC readily defending himself against some low level demon with no hesitation? Holy fuck. He starts to panic, but there’s nothing surpressing his respect for him, as it only grows stronger.

Although, it becomes very apparent that he’d have to do something about all of his brothers’ staring at MC.

Mammon is so into it. Like... So into it.

We all know and love that our tsundere boy has a problem with getting embarrassed, but how could he NOT get flustered everytime he’s face to face with an alternative KING

At first, he actually tries to tell MC how much he appreciates his aesthetic, but fails every time. Stuttering is a difficult thing to overcome when you can barely breathe out of embarrassment.

When he finally brings himself to actually get a compliment out, it’s accompanied with his signature bashful look. Downcast gaze and shifting posture and everything.

Upon recieving a positive response to his words, he takes it as a sign that he should start doing it more often. And so... That’s exactly what he does!

Compliments upon compliments, expensive outfits and accessories finding their way into his room, MC gets it all.

He ADORES the nice personality. So really. This MC is one of the people that Mammon can’t help but get along with. Nice, can throw hands, AND IS FASHIONABLE? Now you’re speaking his language.

They definitely get called a model power couple, even if MC isn’t a model.

Will definitely mention the idea of MC doing a photoshoot with him for work, but won’t press further if he says he’s not comfortable with it.

Levi geeks out so badly

So yeah, his initial interest in MC is kickstarted by his fashion reminding him of a badass video game character, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate him for who he is!!

He actually doesn’t know whether to be sad that he doesn’t have the same amount of fashion sense or to be happy that he has MC as his best friend that does.

But after a bit of positive affirmation from MC, he’ll surely settle with the latter. (and also hope for them to become more than best friends :). )

He finds himself subconsciously posting about MC in his socials. Normally it’s filled with “Lucifer just did (blank)” but now, it’s ALL about MC. Nothing else. MC fan account.

We know that Levi draws, and so I have no doubts that he would be drawing every outfit he sees MC in.

At first, he’s only drawing faceless figures in the clothes, probably adding his own personal flair. But as time progresses and Levi gets closer to him, he starts subconsciously conpleting the figure’s appearance (hair, face, stature, etc). And before he knows it, half of his pages are filled with doodles of MC.

But if he were to ever find out that MC saw his art, RIP Leviathan 2020

And who’s to say he’s not drawing him in... Risqué outfits.

But if MC says that he doesn’t mind getting drawn, then Levi will activate cute fanboy mode again.

He’ll ask him to model outfits for him as he draws, sometimes in cosplay.

MC would just be chillin’ with him in his room, and when Levi finally looks up from his tv after finishing an anime, he’ll sometimes gasp and immediately say, “Stay right there, I HAVE to draw this!”

Although drawing wasn’t and will likely never be his favorite thing to do in comparison to video games/anime, it gives him an excuse to stare at his best friend with minimal blushing.

Satan is good at hiding his appreciation for MC’s outfits. At least, he’s good at it to everyone BUT MC.

If anyone asks, he’s indifferent about MC and his dashing looks and fashion.

But as soon as MC confronts him... Oh boy.

Red-faced, he’ll compliment his clothing on occasion, then wave it off as “something everyone does”. Which is true, but we know that it’s more than just that.

Similarly to Lucifer, he finds himself staring at him secretly. Except, I like to think that he’s less careful about it. Often MC will look up to meet his eyes, before he ducks his head back into his book, acting nonchalant.

Not a single person can convince me that he hasn’t found a stray black cat and discreetly named it after MC.

He wouldn’t hide the fact, but instead would actually bring it up at the right time. Ex: Right before some dramantic moment like before proclaiming how much MC means to him. Both as the cat and human.

The cat’s collars are decorated similarly to the clothing that MC wears! Satan is a diligent worker (especially when putting lucifer through immense stress) and a lover of arts, so he’s pays attention to little details like that.

This is Asmo we’re talking about.

He ADORES the aesthetic.

It’s not something that he himself would wear, but damn is it appealing to the eye.

Once you get him started on all the things he’d do if given the chance to dress MC up in whatever he wanted, you’ll never hear the end of it.

(^ especially when he starts talking about the undressing)

He loves a monochromatic color pallet, but every once in a while he’ll push for a pop of color in MC’s outfit for the day.

If MC wears minimal/no makeup, Asmo will constantly ask if he can use his face as a canvas for makeup experimentation while he rants about his nail tech.

Asmo’s favorite activity is going through MC’s closet. He gets to not only try things on, but he also gets to know what he has to work with when choosing MC’s outfits for their days out together.

Knows the perfect boutiques to bring him to

“You know, the color black really accentuates your figure... And if you look this good with it on, I wonder how great you look with it off~”

Beel isn’t interested in fashion or anything related to it. He isn’t picky about the presentation of things (namely; food.)

So he wouldn’t be immediately enticed upon first meeting MC.

But that is not to say that he doesn’t find him VERY pleasing to the eye.

Our sweet boy is not afraid to express his love for those boots!! For the destressed fabrics!! He hangs around him often just so he can sit and ogle at how cool MC looks!! All the damn time!!

Asks MC to come with him to work out just so he could have some motivation by seeing him. And his GAMES. He’s gonna love to see him cheering him on in the stands.

Beel would admit that he himself couldn’t bring himself to care so much about his clothes or ‘aesthetic’ , and couldn’t imagine having such a consistent style.

^ And because of that! He’s dying to see what he looks like in other styles. Of course, if he doesn’t want to change out of the usual attire, just seeing him wearing beel’s huge ass jacket is enough.

Wouldn’t care to buy clothing items for him, but will most certainly stop by devildom’s no. 1 bakery, grab some sweets with that signature gothic devildom appearance and bring it back to the House of Lamentation for him. (Given that he didn’t already eat them.)

In comparison to his personality, MC’s closet isn’t very important.

Beel loves his kind nature! But he will always be there to defend him in any sort of risky situation, especially when any low level demons would like to try and take advantage of MC’s niceness.

Belphie is taken aback the first time he sees him. In the best way possible.

It’s like he just knows that he’s going to be interesting to be with just by seeing his clothing style

He actually probably assumed that MC would be very different from what he’s really like. (Like how people will assume that everyone who wears dark colors often are always sad)

But both to his surprise and not, MC is nothing but kind to him! And he’s kinda like 😳. Damn. Alright. I can get down to this.

Fashion isn’t his expertise, so he isn’t as forward with compliments. It’s mostly, “As long as I’m comfortable when I lay on you, the clothes are fine. Right?”

“I had a dream about you last night... It was like you were some prince clad in black chain mail armor... I suppose we couldn’t make that a reality though, huh? You can be my prince in band tees and ripped jeans.”

The only reason he starts dressing similarly to MC is because of how many times he’ll fall asleep beside him. He knows MC will probably offer one of his jackets or extra shirts, and that he’ll likely get to keep it. (He gives it back eventually, it’s just nice sentiment.)

It’s also kind of entertaining to see some of his brothers go ballistic in response to seeing him adorned in MC’s signature clothes.

#obey me reactions #obey me imagines #obey me male reader #obey me x male reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor

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jeonqquk · 3 years

Text

racket | jjk

↳pairing: jungkook x reader ↳genre/tags: badmintonplayer!jungkook and badmintonplayer!reader, barely any badminton related stuff, rushed asf, accidental confession-?, they dont even kiss wtf ↳rating: everyone <3 ↳wc: 6k

Jeon Jungkook was capable of being the eighth wonder of the world. He may not have come into existence in the 1700s but his ability to do almost everything perfectly was bewildering. Whether it be eating an entire cake in the span of a half-hour or defeating even the coaches at badminton.

Everybody loved Jungkook, his sweet and caring nature paired with those godly features attracted everyone to him- in many ways. Unfortunately, you weren’t part of the everybody lot.

You hated Jungkook. Absolutely despised his abhorrent ass. So much so that if he were the last person alive, you’d even kill yourself just to stay away from him. But that was highly unlikely, so you weren’t going to kill yourself.

The hatred had just always been there, his competitive side seeming fucking atrocious to you. The feeling was mutual, though, so you didn’t feel as guilty as you would’ve if you just detested him while he behaved politely with you.

Jungkook was petty, even you knew that by now. His competitiveness always getting the better of him and turning him into someone with a completely different persona. Losing was not something he was used to. Maybe that’s why he had only a handful of friends, he would do anything to win. It could be a silly bet or even a tournament- Jungkook just had to win.

All the people he was friends with though, their relationship was beautiful. There were only 4 or 5 boys he actually got along with and their adoration for each other could be seen by anybody.

This wouldn’t have been a problem if you weren’t also as competitive as him. You’re technically in no position to say that Jungkook’s hatred towards losing was unhealthy because you hated it too. You thought it made you seem weak, incapable- and you supposed that it was the same reason as to why the youngest Jeon son hated losing as well but you never tried understanding him. Let alone let him speak for a minute if he was in a 10-foot-radius of you.

It was better this way, you thought. It was better to hate him than actually trying to befriend him and catching those unwanted feelings. Hating Jungkook was simpler, easier. Or so you thought for the 10 years of the two of you attending the same badminton academy. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the two of you were in the same class at college as well. So you had to deal with his annoying self for the larger part of the day.

It was around a month before the annual badminton tournament of your state and obviously, you and Jungkook were taking part in it, more intent on defeating each other rather than the opposing teams. This wouldn’t work though, your coach had called the two of you after practice one day and had said “Listen, Jungkook, Y/n. I know that you’re both really good players and also hate each other.” he sighs, “I’m not asking you to befriend each other, no. I just want the two of you to get along for the tournament. For the sake of our school.” The coach makes a pleading face and you just nod, looking over at Jungkook to see his reaction. He hums and looks down.

After the coach has walked away, you look at Jungkook again, getting ready to tell him that this wasn’t really going to affect the way you behaved with him but he beats you to it, his voice reaching your ears as your lips stay parted midway.

“So, I guess...no more arguing?” Jungkook finally looks at you with a slightly questioning face and you’re left momentarily blank, his proposition seeming so out of character that you’re at a loss for words. This wasn’t expected out of Jungkook. What was expected was that he would just scoff before glaring at you for no reason and stalking away. Him asking you if you wanted to stop the childish arguments the two of you had was not expected.

It takes you a minute to comprehend that Jeon Jungkook was actually trying to put an end to those mini-wars of yours. Your reply is dumb “Uh- okay.” You’re still in a daze from what he said and it’s only when he snaps his fingers in front of your face that you immediately want to spit out a sassy remark but bite your tongue on it, not wanting to disregard Jungkook’s suggestion just after seconds of it having come out of those pink lips of his.

Not knowing what to do, you nod and turn around to get into the locker rooms before heading home. You’re oblivious to the fact that Jungkook almost called your name, wanting to talk to you more, he didn’t know why, but decided against it. You wouldn’t accept the offer anyway.

The walk back to your house is quiet, you’re humming a random tune and there aren’t many vehicles on the road, except for school buses dropping kids home. Unlocking the door, you step into your house and close it behind you before keeping your bag in your room and changing out of your clothes. After all that is done, you check the time and see that it’s 3:18 pm, you have around 2 hours before badminton coaching and suddenly feeling motivated, you heat up some leftover pizza and walk into your room to paint something.

You may not be good at art, you admitted that without any shame because there were a lot of other things you could perform flawlessly. Playing badminton, whining and being able to smell any fried food from miles away to name a few. But you didn’t want to do art because you’d get good at it or something, it was something you genuinely enjoyed and the comments from other people didn’t matter as long as you were satisfied with yourself. And that meant your circles not looking like amoeba.

You take out a drawing book that had been laying in the third drawer of your desk for months and dig up some paintbrushes and watercolour tubes you had left before sitting at your desk to finally start your work. You let your fingers guide you, not thinking much about what you were doing and what the outcome would be. Occasionally dusting your hands from the pizza crumbs, you were quite focused on your work.

30 minutes later, you’re leaning back in your chair and surveying your painting. Woah, it looks pretty-

Wait is that fucking Jungkook you see? “Huh?” your forehead is creased in perplexity, did you just paint a goddamn Jungkook? It looks like Jungkook, though...the bambi eyes and that tiny pout on his lips. How did you-

You were so confused right now. What were you thinking? Well, you obviously weren’t thinking.

Wow. Apparently, you had drawn Jungkook, your sworn enemy, without knowing. Not knowing what to do with the average portrait that didn’t do any justice to his actual features, you quickly clean up your stuff and keep it all back in its respective drawers.

It’s now 4 and you get out your books to get some homework done before leaving for coaching. Ugh. You’d have to see Jungkook there too. You wonder how he’ll behave with you, hopefully, he won’t come anywhere near you.

Sighing as you finish the assignments before stretching back in your chair, you get up to change into your sports clothes before grabbing your bag and water bottle, looking at yourself once in the mirror before walking out towards the pleasantly close by badminton academy you had grown way too accustomed to.

Upon reaching the building, you walk through the reception and smile at the elderly lady who sits there every day. You push the door that leads to the courts and walk on the side, greeting your friends that were warming up. You don’t see Jungkook anywhere right now so that’s a good sign and you bow slightly at your coach in respect although the many years of being taught by the man have obviously gotten the two of you very close. Your bag is kept near a bench in its usual place and you put on the shoes you could wear only on the badminton courts before picking a corner on the side of the court and begin stretching.

You’re walking to get your racquet when you see Jungkook jogging up to your coach, saying something to him with an apologetic look before getting a playful shove from sir as he nods towards the benches where Jungkook would most probably keep his stuff and do some quick exercises before joining the rest of you.

Said boy’s gaze meets yours and he smiles. You don’t reciprocate the gesture, scoffing and moving over to Jihye who’s already looking at you with a cheeky smile adorning her face. “What?” you question, not understanding why she was acting so weird “Don’t pretend you don’t know.” she gives you a playful shove to which you reply by tch-ing and rolling your eyes, done with her childish behaviour. “Seriously Jihye what th-”

“I saw Jungkook smile at you.”

The look on your face is an accurate representation of what you were thinking right now. So what? That smile was nothing, he was just acting upon what he had said earlier. “Yeah, so?” you reply boredly, watching as Jihye’s mouth open wide- wide enough for her to fit her entire fist inside.

“Yeah, so? Are you shitting me Y/n? Jeon Jungkook just smiled at you and you didn’t even do anything in response?” you’re still watching her blankly. Although you admit that it’s not her fault entirely, even you were shocked, very shocked when he first told you about the no-more-fighting pact.

“He just said that we shouldn’t argue now, because the coach at school said that it was going to be bad for our team. You know, in the tournament.” you simply shrug, trying not to make a big deal out of the fact and Jihye is about to reply before the coach is calling all of you for a shadow drill.

Shit.

You are given one side of a court and by some way or the other, Jungkook is opposite to you, his black pants sticking to those fleshy thighs so deliciously and hi-

What?

What is wrong with you? You’ve been thinking about Jungkook unconsciously- first drawing him and now this. Get a grip Y/n.

The whistle of your coach sounds throughout the entire room and your chain of thoughts is broken as your run towards the left side of the net from your position in the centre of the court before picking up one of the shuttles and running back to the centre, moving to the right side of the net now and doing the same as you continue the drill. Jungkook is swift, his feet are balanced and he still manages to look so graceful as he runs around his side of the court.

You’re finally done with all the corners of the court twice as you move to sit in the space between the two different courts as you pant. The two people who were waiting now go to your and Jungkook’s positions as they begin the shadows drill now. You’re surprised to see that Jungkook has opted to sit next to you, you with your bright pink skirt sticking to your skin in all its glory.

“Hi.” he smiles and turns towards you with his hand outstretched in front of your form. With a questioning look on your face, you shake his hand. How far was he planning on going when he said that the two of you wouldn’t be having those silly arguments anymore? To you, it meant that the pair of you would just stick to your own places and not interact with each other or do anything that would result in the bickering to resume.

“Hey..?” Jungkook retracts his hand, leaving yours in mid-air. “So you uh wanna like hang out..um..like somewhere?” This boy had been taking you by surprise too much lately, why would he randomly ask you to hang out?

Sure he had said that he didn’t want the two of you having those little fights anymore but this? This was unexpected- really fucking unexpected.

“Uh...so suddenly?” he slightly frowns “Why? Are you uncomfortable with it? That’s totally fine though!”

Jungkook was being too friendly, a little too friendly, you were confused and shocked at his tactics but tried not to show it on your face. “I mean, yeah, okay.” The words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could even realise it and his face was now bright. His smile so sweet, you feel a cavity forming and he nods. “Cool! After practice then..? He trails off, suddenly hesitant and you’re still dumbfounded by how quickly things had taken a turn, for the better you supposed.

Not even a day ago, the two of you were ready to claw the other’s eyes out and now, you were agreeing to go out with him. This is not a date though. Jungkook and you are just going out to bond as friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Nodding, you smile lightly, trying to reduce some of the awkwardness from your face as you suggest a cafe to meet up at.

Practice is over and you are walking out of the academy with Jihye chattering beside you. “Oh! I almost forgot, so about that Jungkook thing. I saw the two of you talking also.” she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, or that’s what she thinks it looks like. Turning to face her, you sigh at her usual habit of sticking her nose into others’ business and tell her simply that he had just asked you to meet up at the cafe so you could just chill.

“Holy shit, it’s a date!” Jihye seems more excited about the meet-up, not date, her hands coming up to join in front of her chest as she looks at you in bewilderment. “Why are you so passive?” your friend is way too excited for something so normal but then again, this was you and Jungkook. The two of you could never go a day without insulting the other before. Now you were meeting up with the same guy at a cafe in another hour or so. When you tell Jihye this, she stops walking, putting her hand on the left side of her chest- where her heart was. Her dramatic behaviour was now normal now and you knew the reason for her overreaction.

Your love life was drier than the Sahara Desert in a fucking draught. You had been on just a handful of dates in your entire existence, only 5 or 6 of them ending up with you fucking the guy. The others had just been awkward, mainly because of your edgy self.

It wasn’t that big of a problem though, you were too occupied by your college work and badminton tournament preparations that anything else just seemed like a waste of time. For instance, instead of going out with some guy, you could stay home and binge-watch Stranger Things. There were a lot more practical things that could be done without the company of males.

The only reason you agreed to go out with Jungkook was that you wanted to see how it would end up. There was a very slim chance that your meeting would go very well but if Jungkook kept behaving as sweet as he was now, you wouldn’t even have a solid reason to be rude to the poor fellow. Nevertheless, you were not going to completely relax because one never knows.

“I’m coming over to pick out your outfit!” Jihye is excited, jumpy because this is new- you going out with someone of the opposite gender. And although it was completely normal for someone else, you just looked at your friend judgmentally, feigning annoyance and earning a light shove from her that has you stumbling on the sidewalk.

“‘Kay'” she squeals when you agree and invites herself to your house, saying that you should take a shower while she picks out your outfit. You trusted her though, Jihye’s fashion sense was really good and you knew for a fact that whatever she would pick out would be trendy.

Unlocking your house with the bronze key, you walk in and keep your bag in its place before walking to get a glass of water for Jihye and yourself. She accepts and plops down on your couch before you pull her up by the arm, a disgusted look on your face. “Go wash up first.” she pouts but heads into the bathroom near the hallway nonetheless to wash up. You shout to her from your room that you’re heading to shower and she shouts back an “Alright.” from downstairs as you open the door, heading in for a steamy shower.

40 minutes later, you’re getting out of your bathroom, content, to Jihye’s shrieking. Something along the lines of missing the date and you roll your eyes when you hear the last word. It was not a date for God’s sake!

You nonchalantly nod at no one in particular and apply your cream before heading out in a bathrobe. She’s sitting on your bed with some outfits placed on your bed. At first glance, they all look colour-coordinated with some accessories here and there but upon closer inspection, you see that every piece of clothing on your mattress was one of the shortest you had in every category.

“Do you want me to look like a slut?” you ask with your arms folding in front of your chest, and Jihye looks at you with wide eyes, offended that you even had the nerve to comment on her outfit-picking skills.

“No! These are all fine for a meet-up.” She uses finger quotes for the last word and you smile to yourself, “Uh, let me just stop you there. I don’t really know what people mean when they use this.” you make the finger quotes and she gasps “Did you just-” your shoulders raise and as the laughter dies down, you walk closer to the bed, mentally evaluating each outfit she had oh so carefully picked. They’re all really stylish, you gotta admit that but you’d never say it to her face. The one closest to the headboard consists of a full-sleeved plain white turtleneck that had a greyish-brown dress that reached your mid-thigh laid on top of it. It was something you could wear, maybe with some electric pink leggings. You see that Jihye, who is now rummaging in your collection of shoes, has also laid some black boots in front of the bed that matched the first dress.

Your gaze travels to the one on the middle one and you immediately furrow your eyebrows, already ruling the strapless crop top and ripped shorts out. Too much skin.

The one to the far left is also decided to not be inappropriate for the occasion as you didn’t think Jungkook would want to see you in a burgundy top with spaghetti straps. The jeans that had too many huge holes in them didn’t even look cool at this point. What were you thinking when you bought this.

Jihye comes out with some heels for one of the outfits “Why are you even putting so much effort into this? I can just wear a shirt and sweats.” She huffs out, unamused, as you giggle at her annoyed face. “Kidding. So, I really like this one.” you point at the dress and she smiles slyly “Showing off your long legs I see.” Punching her shoulder, you make some place to sit on the bed, glad that you shaved today. “Now, get out of my room. I need to change and apply make-up.” She nods and you watch her close the door behind her, getting up to lock it for extra safety measures.

Not like she was gonna barge in and catch you in your star printed underwear anyways. Changing into the turtle neck and then the dress, you look at yourself in the mirror and if it wasn’t your frizzy hair, you would even think you looked cute. You brush your hair and settle for a high ponytail. Putting on your shoes, you apply a little bit of make-up, not wanting to seem overly eager but the excessive amount of perfume may or may not give you away.

As you open the door and walk down to where Jihye has changed into some sweats she had kept in your house for times like these, she gasps upon seeing you, chip almost falling out her mouth and chews it before widening her eyes comically “Babe! You look so good.” you smile at her compliment, giving her a twirl as she gets up to probably to hug you before deciding against it, shaking her head.

“So, is my make-up looking fine?” she nods furiously and you pick up your purse that was on the dining chair before looking at the clock to see that you only have ten minutes before Jungkook arrives. You bid Jihye goodbye, not worried in the slightest bit about her being alone at your house.

As you’re walking, the cafe comes into view and you spot a familiar figure walking into the shop as well and you increase your speed to enter at the same time as Jungkook to make it seem as if you weren’t even slightly late. He doesn’t notice you even when you’re right behind him and walks to a table to sit down as you sit opposite him immediately, realising that he had walked to a two-people table in the corner of the shop.

His eyes widen and he stutters out in shock, “O-Oh, you’re here,” Nodding, you hide a smile and greet him back, trying not to get into an argument with him. It’s silent for a while, you think of anything to say to break the awkward atmosphere but just as you’re looking up from the ground to speak to Jungkook, his voice is filling your ears. “Do you want to order?” He waits and you simply nod, “Okay, I’ll come to get my coffee.”

Just as you’re getting up, Jungkook keeps his hand on you without warning, head shaking frantically. “No! I mean, I can get it for you.” Looking up in surprise, you’re unable to speak for a moment. Did Jeon Jungkook just say that he would buy you coffee?

You shake your head and snap out of your trance. Or at least you try to. “No, it’s alright. I can get it myself.” Jungkook rushes to quieten you again and looks like he won’t let you win, so you sigh and back down. “Fine.” He giggles and walks off to the counter while you take your phone out to kill time. Getting bored when you see that there are not any notifications, you switch the device off and look out of the window, watching as people get out of their cars for a pitstop at the cafe before driving away again.

“Here are the coffees.” You turn your head and see Jungkook setting two cups of coffee on the table before sitting himself. Looking at what he got you, you thank him for bringing the correct order and he just sends a light smile in your direction, rubs his hands together and picks up the cup with both hands. You almost coo, but hold yourself together. This was your enemy.

That reminds you, “So, why are you suddenly being so kind to me? It’s really weird to experience you treating me nicely.” You hadn’t meant for your tone to come off as accusing, but it does, and you have to watch Jungkook’s eyes flash with hurt for a second before shaking his head lightly. He places his cup back in the small saucer and his hands on either side of it.

“I knew you would ask me this.” egging him on with a raise of your eyebrows, you take a sip of your coffee “Remember how Coach said that we should stop arguing?” At your nod, he licks his lips and continues on with his explanation, “Well, I thought about it-” “You told me to stop arguing right after he left.” “I thought about it and I decided that we really shouldn’t be having these fights. Like, what’s the point? I’m not getting anything out of it. You’re not getting anything out of it.” He ignores your words and when you hear his, ask yourself why you hadn’t tried to put a stop to the childish arguments you had with Jungkook.

You don’t know why you ever fought back. Well, you did hate losing and Jungkook did everything to rile you up- so he was at fault too- but there was no specific reason as to why you hated Jungkook so much. “I don’t know, you were the one who started them. I don’t have a problem with becoming friends.”

Jungkook looks at you, looking as if he’s trying to figure something out, pouty lips looking kissable but you quickly brush those thoughts off. “So..” his hands come closer to yours and you’re shocked to feel your heart starting to beat faster, its pace picking up as Jungkook’s hand comes closer to yours. “..friends?” his pinky intertwines with yours and you feel your face turn red, the action igniting something in you.

Looking down at your fingers intertwined seems to be a big mistake as you gasp, the sight just overwhelming you. His hand fit in yours perfectly, and even if he meant it just as friends, you couldn’t help but imagine how it would be to be loved by Jungkook.

No! You two just started behaving normally around each other and you’re already thinking about loving him?

A voice in your head sounds as Jungkook retrieves his hand to pick up the call that had distracted you. You take your hand back and keep it in your lap, tingling sensations till lingering.

Jungkook looks at you apologetically for a second, and you reassure him that he could take the call but he tells whoever was on the other side of the line that he was busy, cutting the call after he told the person that he would call them back later.

“Sorry about that.” you barely catch his mumble and shake your head, “Don’t worry.” As you finish your coffee and make small talk with Jungkook about random things, you start growing more comfortable around him, cracking jokes and laughing at his lame ones. You’re discussing some things about the upcoming tournament when Jungkook suddenly leans in closer.

You move back out of shock and he stills, eyes suddenly going wide as his breathing halts. Your own starts getting heavy, his sudden action having caught you terribly off guard. After partially having gained your composure back, you see that Jungkook is still in the same position, “J-Jungkook?” He takes a moment to snap out of whatever trance he was put in and blinks once, twice before gasping loudly and jerking backwards. His back hits the chair and his mouth is still open in shock at what he did.

“S-Sorry..” he trails off, chewing his lip and your eyes follow the motion carefully before darting them back to his face quickly. He furrows his brows and starters ahead of you before shaking his head, murmuring something to himself. “You ok there?” you try to keep your voice soft, soothing as Jungkook shifts his gaze to you, wide eyes looking absolutely adorable.

You question him again, worried, “What wa-” “I like you.”

Silence.

You sputter, his words having caught you off guard and if Jungkook’s eyes could go any wider, they do, his hand instantly coming to slap over his face and he curses, “I-fuck.” You’re still shocked by his confession and your brain takes time to process what he said, the three simple words not registering in your mind until suddenly, Jungkook’s voice brings you back to the present.

“Y-Y/n?” He sounds hesitant, and your face must be an accurate representation of what you’re feeling right now because Jungkook begins speaking again, his eyes filled with worry as he tries to fix his mistake. “No. I mean, yes, I like you-” Your face portrays horror at his words again and he rushes to correct himself, hitting himself on the head once.

“You what?” Your voice is hushed for unknown reasons and Jungkook looks around, trying to calm himself down by breathing in and out and you use the time to do the same, the initial shock having worn off as you exhale loudly and take a bite out of the cookie from the small plate he had gotten.

“I like you, Y/n.” Jungkook’s tone is more serious this time, and you try maintaining a straight face, his words finally sinking and you choke on your saliva. “Like like me?” you question dumbly and he nods desperately, licking his lips and drumming his fingers on the table, a nervous habit of his.

“Oh,” Jeongguk tilts his head at your response and you muster the courage to ask him a question that had been lingering on your mind ever since he confessed. “Since..?”

He coughs loudly into his mouth, trying to hide the blush that creeps up his cheeks and looks at you with a suddenly brave gaze, “I’ve liked you for a long time, Y/n. The reason I started annoying was because I wanted you to notice me, not because I disliked you...And better confess now instead of regretting not doing anything before right?” Your mouth is left hanging at his confession now, the real reason for his pestering finally coming out into the light.

“Why would you annoy me, though? You could've just come up and talked to me, it would've been way easier for us.” At this, Jeongguk blushes, trying to cover his burning cheeks from you and cups his face in his hands. “I don’t know..you were really annoying, to be honest.”

“I was annoying- you asshole!” You lean over and hit his arm, much to his chagrin and he frowns before swatting your arm away. Silence falls over the two of you, but it's not the awkward kind, you just sit quietly, drowning yourself in thoughts about Jungkook.

“So…” Beside you, Jungkook shifts shyly and lowers his head when you look at him, the sight igniting something warm inside you. “Can I ask to ask you out?” His hair sits prettily atop his forehead, hands on his lap and his lips are scrunched into the cutest pout.

“Why don’t you ask me and find out?” You aim for a teasing tone, but miss by a mille, instead sounding breathless and at this, Jungkook smiles before leaning in closer. “Will you go on a date with me?”

Even though you knew he was going to ask you, the words still send tingles throughout your entire body, heart racing and you nod before you can even think.

It has you suddenly thinking about the drastic turn of events. The guy who was once (not even a few hours ago) your biggest enemy had just confessed to you and was asking you out. You’re thinking if it was a bad decision, but with Jungkook looking so innocent and just, like a child, it’s hard to think straight. Your heart beats erratically as Jungkook gives you one last soft smile before getting up and walking to pay, and you try chasing him and stopping him from paying for both your and his drinks but as much as you want to, you’re still stuck in place, everything that happened recently replaying in your head. He comes back in a few minutes and holds out his hand for you to take, and as you’re getting up with his help, your heart can’t help but flutter, the feeling of his warm hand encompassing yours turning you mushy like dough.

“Seriously?” You can’t help but scoff, and beside you Jungkook lets go of your hand to feign an offended face. “What! You said you liked Call of Duty!” Jungkook defends himself and you stare blankly at the venue of your first official date with Jeon Jungkook.

The baby pink blankets that adore his couch look inviting, so do the various snacks on the coffee table but still, this was your first date. You had really expected him to go all out and take you to dinner at a classy restaurant. And then maybe have ended with a drumline playing on a bridge. Ok, maybe that was too much.

This doesn’t mean that you’re disappointed, though. Nope. This- a date on Jungkook’s couch with Call of Duty and snacks- was perfectly fine. Great, even. You finally crack a smile, nudging his shoulder and muttering a ‘Just kidding.’ under your breath when his face turns sad.

You grab his arm and sit on the couch, patting the space beside you for him to occupy as you shuffle through the unhealthy packs of chips and nachos to find your favorite one. Jungkook grabs a drink and you shuffle under the soft blanket, curling up and look at Jungkook, trying to act cute as you prepare to embarrass yourself.

“Cuddle with me?” Jungkook almost spits his drink out, surging forward as his head turns towards your direction you’re positive he gets whiplash. “W-What-Did you..” Nodding, you try pouting but know for a fact that it looks more awkward than cute and huff out, “Just-” Jungkook nods suddenly, “Ok.” and gets under the covers. Your face heats up when you finally realise that you just asked The Jeon Jungkook™ to cuddle with you, and as he ever so slowly crawls towards you, your body turns stiff.

“I-Is this okay?” Jungkook hovers his hand over your waist and as you look at him with wide eyes, you nod lightly, indicating the green signal, his body heat not helping at all. Jungkook’s soft voice filters through your ears, and you swear you could listen to him forever. Even if he was making fun of your obsession with hard peaches. Yes.

“We can watch a movie if you want..and then play COD?” he suggests and you mumble out a “Sure” and watch as he picks up the remote to scroll through the various apps whose subscriptions he had.

He pauses at Netflix. “Can we watch Full House?” his voice is timid, and you turn to furrow your eyebrows at him, wondering why he would seem hesitant while asking that. Everyone loved Michelle.

“Why not?” At your words, Jungkook’s eyes light up and he smiles widely, turning towards the TV to play the show.

You rip open a packet of Cheetos and Jungkook tries (keyword: tries) to slyly wrap his arm around you from behind but doesn’t go unnoticed, and you move forward for him to easily slide his arm around you, not even bothering to look at his red face because there’s a really high chance that you’ll combust.

2 episodes into the new season, you turn to Jungkook and he notices, eyebrows raised as you gulp,

“I think I like you too.”

“That would’ve been really romantic if your Cheetos breath wasn’t hitting my face.”

epilogue

“Yesss, get it Kook!” Jungkook comes running up to you and you slap his arm in enthusiasm. He hugs you, tight, and your arms wrap around his body as well, congratulating him in his victory. His last hit had been a smash, one his opponent hadn’t been able to defend and the match had indeed with your school winning, the trophy yours for the third time in a row.

“We won.” The words coming out of Jungkook’s mouth urge you to hug him tighter, and you do, nodding although he probably can't see you. “We did.” Your boyfriend lets go of you to embrace his teammates and you laugh with all of them, and when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, realise that he may not be as bad as you first thought him to be.

tysm for reading whatever the fuck this is <3 send in feedback, if you want!

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prettyboy-asmo · 3 years

Text

Aquarium Date

Pairing: Diavolo/Reader(Gender Neutral reader)

Pure fluff/attempt at humor- SFW

Summary: Diavolo asks about your favorite things to do in the human realm, and you tell him about aquariums. He decides you should go to one together.

Huge thank you to @jugodeflores for motivating/ encouraging me to write this and also beta reading for me!

“MC,” You look up Diavolo from your D.D.D, wondering when he’d stopped doing his own paperwork. Instead, his gold eyes focused on you as he propped his chin on his hand, “What’s your favorite thing to do in the human realm?”

“Well, I guess it depends,” You tell him, smiling a little as he listens to you speak with intense curiosity, “Do you mean day to day, or special occasions?”

“Special occasions?” He questions, leaning forward in his seat now.

“Yeah, Like vacations, day trips, or dates and stuff.”

“I’m interested in special occasions,” He answers.

“Okay, Well, I never really went on vacations or traveled much,” Which in a way, is what had prompted you to sign and mail the mysterious exchange forms that had found their way in your mail one day, “But I liked taking trips to the cities I lived near, just to explore and find new places and stuff. There were a couple of water parks around, and some carnivals during the summer, along with an amusement park a few hours away, a few museums too. I think my top favorite was the aquarium though, alone or for a date.”

You watch the Prince tilt his head slightly, his expression urging you to continue. “There’s just something about the experience that never gets old for me. Seeing all the different creatures that I wouldn’t see otherwise, and it’s more than just looking at fish too, sometimes they have live feedings for certain animals, and the one I went to had penguins and sea otters and A jellyfish tank. I could watch the moon jellies for hours. And there’s information on everything housed in there, so you can learn about them while you observe them. I went for a field trip in second grade and I fell in love with it.”

“That does seem like it would be an entertaining experience.” he grins warmly at you, “Let’s go to one.”

You blink at him, processing his words, “Huh?”

“Let’s go to a human realm aquarium. I want to experience one with you.” You feel your face flush when he laughs, “I’ll make all the necessary arrangements.” He already looks so excited that you can feel your heart melt. It’s not like you’d have said no in the first place, but you nod your agreement anyways.

So a week later you’re visiting the human realm, Your hand gripping Diavolo’s as the Demon Prince led you along to the aquarium he’d chosen to visit. It wasn’t very often you got to see him in casual clothes, So while he was focused on your destination you took some time to admire the way he looked in the dark red button down and black slacks. It was kind of unfair, really, how good he looked.

Soon, though, you had reached the doors and Diavolo was paying the entry fees, taking a map and leading you into the building farther before stopping and turning to you, “What should we do first?”

“Well,” you pondered, glancing at the pamphlet he held out to you, “There’s a show with the dolphins in two hours if you’re interested in that. Until then, we can start here and work our way through the building, unless there’s something you want to see right now.”

Diavolo shook his head, “I want to see it all.” and with that he sets off again, his enthusiasm drawing a laugh from you as he leads you in the direction of the exhibits. His eyes light up as you walk into what you note is supposed to be an exhibit on the Amazon, and the look of wonder that graces his features is something you want to commit to memory for the rest of your life.

You move along the tanks, and he leans in close to each one. Sometimes, you’re able to point out a specific fish and give a few facts about them, and sometimes you read him the trivia posted around the exhibit.

“It kind of reminds me of Leviathan,” Diavolo says suddenly, prompting you to turn from the sign of facts about Piranhas you’d been reading. You can’t help the laugh that you let out when you see he’s observing a rainbow boa that’s draped lazily on one of the many large branches in its enclosure. The pattern along its body does indeed remind you of Leviathan’s demon form. You don’t have time to respond as Diavolo takes out his D.D.D, double checks the flash is off and snaps a picture.

You try to peer over his shoulder to see what he’s doing, but with a grin he finishes typing and turns the phone toward you. The Picture of the snake is there, soft iridescent sheen on it’s skin visible along with the pattern, under it is a short message that simply reads, Is this you? And you can only imagine how Levi will react when he opens that message. The thought is amusing but it quickly drifts to the back of your mind as Diavolo starts moving toward another enclosure, attention captured by something there.

You follow him through the rest of this exhibit, letting him lead you around the rooms and take as much time to observe everything he wants. You’re glad he’s so tall, otherwise you might be afraid you’d lose him in the crowd with how suddenly he seems to take off to other exhibits when something catches his eye. The interest and child-like excitement that continues to shine through him rubs off on you, and soon enough your hands are intertwined once again as he pulls you gently along. You make it through a freshwater fish exhibit before you decide it’s time to head to the show.

As you’re heading there you pass a group of young children clearly on a field trip, and apparently heading to the same show you are. A few of them stare at you- or, more accurately, Diavolo. One of them whispers to their friend, a not so quiet- “He’s really tall, like, as tall as a superhero!” You feel the soft chuckle Diavolo lets out, biting back your own laugh. Diavolo though turns back slightly, sending a wink at the pair before guiding you to your seats for the show.

Now, instead of his grip on your hand he wraps his arm around you, pulling you flush against his side. It causes a slight blush to dust your cheeks, but you lean into his side anyways, enjoying the closeness of the moment. “Are you enjoying your day so far?” he asks as people continue to find seats, shuffling around and settling while waiting for the show to begin.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” you tell him honestly, your own smile bright, but your conversation is cut short by the show beginning. You both give it your attention, though every so often, after a dolphin performs a particularly impressive trick or amusing maneuver, you glance at the demon beside you to see his reactions. Each time he laughs in delight you can feel it move through him, and you can feel the way his arm tenses around you during tricks, can see the awe in his eyes when the trainers explain some of the mannerisms of the animals, the relationships they form with one another, and efforts to help the earth’s environments to help the natural habitats of the animals.

After the show, you end up at the touch pools- something that sets off a whole new level of excitement in Diavolo. He’s extremely careful when he reaches in, fingers gently grazing the creatures sitting in the shallow water. “It’s fascinating,” the Anemone his hand brushed against swayed gently with the movement of the water.

“You don’t expect them to feel so...squishy, right?”

You go through a few more exhibits after that, and you even manage to sneak a few photos of Diavolo, your favorite being the one where he’s nearly leaning against the glass of the beluga whale enclosure, one of the creatures on the other side staring right back at him, the delighted expression on Diavolo’s face is priceless. You also manage to send it to Lucifer, knowing he’d appreciate it as much as you do. A while later, Diavolo takes your hand in his again.

“The Aquarium is hosting a jellyfish exhibit for a limited time,” he says, leading you along to a staircase that has another attendant standing at the top, “I got us the passes because you said you liked them.” He hands the attendant the passes, who nods as you continue on down the staircase. Even in the dimmer light as you reach the bottom you can see the faint tinge of pink on his face.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you squeeze his hand, smiling up at him, “but thank you, I love it.”

The pace you took around the exhibit was slower now, moving along the dim rooms and taking minutes at a time to watch the strange creatures drift through the lit tanks. It’s quieter here than the rest of the aquarium, and less crowded, probably due to the fact that it required additional passes- but it feels almost serene, despite the low chatter of the other guests roaming the rooms.

“I believe I understand what you meant when you said you could watch them for hours,” Divaolo says next to you, his golden eyes are tracking the movement of the Jellies, his features bathed in the blue glow of the tank’s lighting- it makes everything feel softer somehow, the way his lips are curved into a smile, how his hair falls just slightly into his eyes, even his gaze.

When he turns to you there’s something else in his eyes that makes your face heat up. “They really are beautiful,” he says, and you realize he’s leaning in closer, as he continues, “Almost as beautiful as you,” he finishes, and even though there’s sincerity in his voice- even though you know he doesn’t lie- you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“That’s...so cheesy.” you say, but you can feel your own grin on your face, your hand squeezes his tighter, and you lean up, almost completely on your toes to meet him in a soft, quick kiss. “Thank you for this,” you say earnestly, “I’m happy we got to come here together.”

“As am I. I should thank you for putting up with me dragging you around all the exhibits, I’m sure you are used to a more relaxed atmosphere than that.”

“I think it’s cute.” You answer, satisfaction washing over you at the blush that covers his face, “I like how excited you are. It means I can tell you’re having a good time.”

He chuckled slightly, “I would say any time spent with you is good.”

The two of you lingered in the Jellyfish exhibit for a while, silently admiring the displays.

When you finally emerge you have to blink at the sudden increase in light, but Diavolo is already leading you along again. “I was told that these sort of trips aren’t complete without a visit to the gift shop.”

“I guess that is kinda true,” you admit, following him into the shop. Immediately, something catches your eye. “Dia, look!” You hold up an almost perfectly round stuffed seal in your hands, squeezing it’s soft sides slightly, “It’s so cute!” It’s little flippers dangle slightly as Diavolo looks at it- and you- with unveiled amusement, “Feel it!”

He takes it from your hands, squeezing it slightly. “It is incredibly soft,” he turns it over in his hands, squishing it again, “Do you want one?”

“Wait- really?”

“Why would I ask If I didn’t really want to know?”

“I do like it,” you admit- “Reminds me of you, in a way.”

Diavolo looks at the Seal’s face, then back to you, “It reminds you...of me?”

“Nice to hug. Cute.”

“Is that so?” Diavolo’s cheeks are flushed pink again, and even though your own face feels warm you can’t help but admire the ability to make the Prince of the Devildom blush. He tucks the seal under his arm without saying anything else- and then it seems that a display of t-shirts catches his eye. “All proceeds go to charity. MC, do you know this charity?”

You glance at the sign. “I do! It’s a good one, they support a lot of rescue habitats and environmental efforts- and they actually use their money for what they say they do, unlike some.”

Divaolo’s eyes shine as he takes in the shirts, Colorful cartoon fish decorate the fabric, and bold, bright letters declaring “Don’t be Shellfish, Protect our Oceans,” are written on the front. He moves to the display, rifling through the shirts before pulling out three different sizes.

"Three?"

"One for Lucifer as well!"

You laugh out loud at the mental image of Lucifer wearing the shirt and nod, "Good idea." Diavolo wanders around the shop a bit more, when another stuffed animal catches your eye. A beluga whale. Your mind flashes back to the delight on his face when you’d snapped that picture of him and the whale earlier that day. You pick the stuffed beluga up, it’s large and, to your delight, is just as soft as it looks. You glance over at Diavolo and see that he’s distracted by a book display, so as stealthy as you can you make your way to the cashier with the whale.

You pay, thanking the cashier, then make your way to the door before calling out, “I’ll be waiting outside, Dia!”

It’s not long after he exits the gift shop with a curious expression, multiple bags gripped in one hand and the seal tucked back under his arm. “MC?”

You hold the whale out to him, “I thought you’d like this,” you say, pleased by the fondness obvious in his expression, he frees the seal under his arm, handing it to you and taking the gift.

“I adore it. Is this why you left before me?”

You grin, squeezing the seal with one arm and linking your free hand with his, “I wanted it to be a surprise, as well as a thank you for all of this.”

You feel like you’re half asleep when you get back to the Devildom, eyes drooping and legs slightly aching from all the walking you’d done that day. You eat dinner with Diavolo, and then you insist on joining him in his study when he says he has some paperwork to finish before he goes to bed.

You’re curled up in one of the armchairs, the stuffed seal Diavolo bought you under your head like a pillow as you watch him do paperwork. You feel your eyes droop, slower to open them each time. Eventually you decide it’s easier to give into sleep, figuring Diavolo could wake you before he went to bed for the night.

“Dia,” You mumble, waiting for him to look up from whatever paperwork he was pouring over now, “Thank you for today. I love you.”

He smiles softly back at you, “I love you, sweetheart.” You give him one last smile before curling up tighter and letting yourself fall asleep.

#long post #obey me shall we date #swd lord diavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #fluff #aquarium date #swd obey me #gender neutral mc #gender neutral reader #it's soft

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rymndsmth · 3 years

Text

querencia (jang han seo)

🎤 hello and gather around fellow himbo lovers, here is a small fic about our beloved and his life after That guy kicks the bucket. also idk how i managed to turn this into a love story? anyways lmfao, hope y’all enjoy!

Everything felt so different.

Truthfully, Han Seo never imagined what his life could be like, would be like, without the proverbial ever tightening noose around his neck. One that had been unexpectedly and disappointingly placed on him as a child by the one person that was supposed to remove such things. He was now free of that person, and the fear that stemmed from veering off the path set by them, but wasn’t entirely too certain that he was free of that feeling.

His muscles couldn’t shake it. The sudden chill to the bone, the anticipation of retaliation from an act that hadn’t yet occurred. Such an act that could never occur anymore given that his brother was dead. He knew this, but his mind had never been good at accepting possibilities that were positive.

This much was evident in the case of his relationship with Vincenzo. There was no reason why the stoic yet baby faced Mafia member would want to keep him around, at least not any that he could see. So, Han Seo spent the first few weeks asking the question both silently and aloud, will you kill me? Vincenzo had the motive, it’s not exactly like his hands were clean in his previous dealings with Babel, and he most certainly had the means.

It wasn’t until Han Seo was told that because he was trying to make amends, he wouldn’t end up in the Jang family crypt well before his time that he started to feel at ease. Still, for months after that conversation, he still had the nagging feeling that some invisible fist was lurking around every bend.

Regardless of that, Han Seo decided he would not waste his liberation however short lived it might have been. He made up his mind that he was going to do all the things that he was either too scared or outright forbidden to do before. The first thing on his list was to clean up his business. Luckily for him, the Guillotine file made it easy to weed out the snakes in the grass and allow him to steer Babel in the direction that the core of the business was about.

The hardest part was going to be restoring the public’s faith in the organization. Cha Young told him as much, and advised him not to agonize over it as there will be new corruption that will grab their attention (and hers). He intended to be the Chairman that such a company deserved, and therefore continued to study no matter how nonsensical and outdated the information seemed.

The second order of business was moving out of the place that felt more like a prison than a home to one that he liked. The realtor immediately recommended a few luxury places, but he turned them down to their surprise. Maybe it was due to the fact that he had seen what the quest for material wealth had done to his family (or more realistically because he wanted to be closer to newfound hyung and his girlfriend).

Either way, the house he settled on had its luxuries, but in a more affordable and quaint neighborhood. Han Seo even went as far as to attempt painting on his own, which went as well as expected for someone that didn’t even know the difference between a brush and a roller.

Being able to do what he wanted proved to be chaotic at times. There was no one to stop him from going on last minute trips to Jeju just for oranges and a quick dip into the ocean. Or to take away all the sweet and savory snacks that he found at these things called convenience stores.

He would stay up all night sometimes, not to binge watch all the shows he missed out on, but just to sit in silence. He didn’t know that the quiet could be so nice. That it was a space of tranquility and relaxation rather than one filled with anxiety. Of course, Han Seo more often than not regretted the choice not to sleep and ended up at the cafe a few blocks from his place.

While obviously no one had better coffee than the one at Babel, he found himself going to the cozy spot with increasing frequency because of her. The first time he saw her, she was deciding on which apple to choose from the basket beside the register. He then noticed that her canvas bag was filled with art supplies, and decided that it was a brilliant idea to draw a conclusion.

I think the one to the right would make a great subject on paper, he grinned.

She stared at him in a way that made him contemplate whether to not she was related to Vincenzo hyung before replying flatly:

I’m looking for the tartest one to go with my tea.

He was left a bumbling mess of flustered sounds and rapidly blinks, not getting the opportunity to insert some retort that undoubtably would’ve put him deeper into the realm of idiot.

The following morning he went again. No cup of coffee, not even the ridiculously overpriced espresso at Babel, would give him that jolt of electricity he felt under her gaze. And sure enough, she was there. This time her apple sat upon a folded napkin right beside her tea, and in front of them both was her sketchpad. On the page? A picture of the fruit. He couldn’t control the noise of exasperation that left him as he passed her table. On his way out he tossed over his shoulder with a grin so wide it hurt:

Nice drawing.

Their interactions continued in that same vein. Short, filled with just the right amount of bite. The balance of who had the best and last say constantly shifting, becoming somewhat of a competition.

You’re outside today, is that weed your subject?

As if there weren’t enough clowns in this neighborhood already.

You buy a lot of lattes for an artist that’s supposed to be starving.

Ironic coming from the gentrifier walking around a working class neighborhood in thousand dollar shoes.

He had look up what that g word meant after their last exchange.

There was something else he never got to do in his past. Sure, Han Seo had the occasional date or two, but commitment? That was out of the question. It wouldn’t have served his brother well if there was anyone around that would motivate him to step out from his hold. The realization that he never had a serious relationship hadn’t hit him until he started to have inconvenient thoughts during board meetings about stuff like taking a long afternoon stroll, and holding hands with her.

Han Seo could barely focus on the stack of jargon dense reading before him. He sent Vincenzo a text saying that he was coming over with soju, not waiting for a reply before making the short journey to Geumga. Cha Young’s face fell when she answered the door, muttering that she thought he was her delivery, but lit up once she saw he brought along alcohol. After poking around the rice he begged for them to share and sighing loudly for half an hour, Vincenzo ushered him out. He implored him to get a hobby so that these late night visits wouldn’t become a habit.

He was confused by that. Weren’t studying and running a company hobbies? On his walk back home he spotted a flyer that someone was offering private classes for beginners painting. The nightmare of a time he had trying to get the walls in his kitchen evenly colored popped up in his brain, instantly making him tear off one of the numbers. He didn’t exactly know how learning to paint homes was going to be a practical hobby, but hell, he would have something to show Vincenzo later.

While he was on one of his impromptu trips to the seaside, Han Seo had his assistant set up the class for him to take when he returned. As a gift for the instructor, he thought it would be nice to bring them an extra bag of oranges. If the session sucked, or if he hated it, at the very least there was going to be something to brighten the mood.

The day he got back, he even went as far as to tidy up the place on his own and put some fresh flowers around so the air was lightly scented. He practically waited at the door until the alarm sounded to let him know that his instructor arrived.

Is this a joke? She huffed.

No, I didn’t even know you were the teacher! His protest was adamant. I was on a trip and even brought back Jeju- He paused. Han Seo knew he wasn’t the brightest, but bringing up the oranges seemed like it would upset her given their previous history.

You brought back what? Her brow raised.

Mmm, good energy! Don’t you feel the vibes from the ocean? He spread his arms wide.

Han Seo waved her inside hurriedly, trying desperately to get past the awkward exchange. Of all people, he never would’ve thought it would be the neighborhood’s cute sass machine. A small noise of happiness couldn’t be stopped from escaping him as she accepted the invitation. Her eyes scanned the place without restraint, nose wrinkling when she took a look at the kitchen.

Where are your supplies? A slender finger ran across the surface of his counter.

Supplies? He thought that was included in the price for the lessons.

She sighed, placing a sketchbook, brushes, and small pots of paint onto the table. It was now very apparent to him that the advertisement did not mean what he thought it did. Thank goodness he also didn’t decide to open his mouth about that beforehand, it probably would’ve made her smack him with her bag.

Here, the materials were slid over when he sat. Paint something.

His facial expression surely mirrored what he was thinking. Han Seo had no recollection of ever trying to do this, not even during the course of his way overpriced private school education. She urged him on with a nod, only relaxing into her chair when he flipped open the book and picked up a fine brush.

There was nothing in particular he wanted to paint. Hell, he didn’t even know if he wanted to paint at all. This was simply something random that came up when he needed it.

To avoid being chastised, he dipped his brush into the light blue color and started swiping randomly across the blank page. He swapped the brush and added some dark green, then pink, and finished if off with small dots of white. At the end it looked like something a toddler would’ve considered a masterpiece. She eyed it with surprising interest.

You clearly didn’t know what you wanted to achieve with this, or why you were doing it at all.

Han Seo was about to interject with a prideful defense before she continued.

That’s good. It’s better to work with an unbiased mind. Her eyes met his. Your technique is shit though.

He laughed, like truly laughed. It was a full bellied, unashamedly loud, attack of sonic waves. She seemed to find it amusing, a hint of a smile dancing across her lips.

Alright, let’s start with how to actually hold a paintbrush.

There was no telling when their interactions had gone from less than playful banter to warm and friendly (still with a side of joking). Han Seo couldn’t put his finger on it. Did it happen during the second lesson where he mistakenly put paint on her hands, and didn’t settle for no when he said he would wash them off for her?

Or was it the time he was running late for work, but the barista already had his order prepared because she told them that he was on the way? Perhaps it was the time she had to reschedule their Saturday morning for the evening instead, and all he could think about was trying to replicate the color of her alcohol flushed cheeks onto the page before him.

Han Seo had never done the whole confession thing before, so he wasn’t sure about how it worked. An unfamiliar kind of anxiety crept up his spine as he poured glasses of wine and organized a fruit plate. Soft music played in the background accompanied by the crackle of the expensive candles he bought specifically for the occasion. Her mouth parted slightly as she took everything in once she arrived for what was supposed to be an ordinary session involving watercolors.

Wow, got a hot date later or something? Her legs seemed to automatically take her to the table.

Actually, He brought the glasses over to where she sat. It’s for you.

Oh…She gasped. A few seconds passed that felt more like minutes before she picked one up and held it high. Cheers then!

Something about it made him feel like he made a mistake. Did he misread their change in demeanor towards one another? Was she truly just being kinder to him because she considered him to only be a friend? Han Seo tried to not let the embarrassment he felt seep into the room, keeping a smile locked and loaded for when she made a witty remark about stuff like him painting in the most inappropriate white button down.

Don’t you have something to say to me? She quipped, neatly putting her things away after he finished.

Me? I- no…I... He clenched his fists. Why couldn’t he come out and say it?! This was as good as a chance as he was ever going to get. If he let this opportunity slip, he wasn’t sure if there would be one again. He had to act, he had to-

What sounded like a small growl came from her as she raked her hand through her hair. She pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, her nose just shy of rubbing against his.

Jang Han Seo, when are you gonna stop driving me insane? She murmured, labored breaths dancing across his cupid’s bow.

If only she knew how true and reciprocated that question was to him too. From the moment he couldn’t fight against thoughts about her entering his mind, to the smile she wore when he stepped across his threshold, and the way she said his goddamned name, it was all enough to make him want to combust. To burst out of his skin, transforming into something or someone else entirely. A person that fully accepted that there were no more restraints on their lives, that they was no more fear and no more betrayal. Someone that was completely in control, and free to take what was theirs. And so he did.

It was painful, almost, the first time he kissed her. The second time even more so. By the third time, coupled with the question of her tongue prodding at his bottom lip, Han Seo had shedded the last of his previous being. He cupped her face, thumbs toying with her curled sideburns as he consumed her. Quiet whimpers made way for desperate cries, shivers were replaced by the searing heat of skin on skin.

The high he’d chased fruitlessly so many times throughout his life was finally achieved with his arms wrapped tightly around her, their bodies pressed together as she shuddered and sighed his name. He was in disbelief that what he had experienced was real, so he chased it again and again, receiving the same result each time his sweat slicked forehead bowed to meet hers.

Han Seo would learn that it could be obtained outside of that space they filled with the tangible evidence of their desire. It was also in buying melon flavored ice pops to eat in the park together on sunny days. The look on Vincenzo and Cha Young’s face when he timidly made the introduction. Her expression when she took her first bite of Hee Soo’s tteokbokki. When Mr. Nam and her had an hour long debate on which shade of red made the most realistic fake blood color. The flashing Best Chairman Ever coming from her phone when Babel secured their biggest deal yet without any dirty deals behind the scenes.

That feeling, one that outshone the other by such a long shot that it was nearly eradicated, had been there all along in the life he’d made. She just helped him see it.

#*throws this and runs to take my dog for a walk*#jang han seo #vincenzo #fics.n

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pikemoreno · 3 years

Text

if you ever wanna be in love

Chapter VI: Violets

a/n: and we’re back! so excited to finish this story in 2021! we’re about halfway through now! really appreciate you all for sticking with me through hiatus! happy new year!

pairing: marcus pike x f!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: angst :), nothing is solved, like one bad word, this burn is so slow :)

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“There’s nothing going on here, there never will be anything going on here, alright?” your words rang in his skull like awful, thunderous aftershocks.

In truth, he really had been just trying to leave. He and Adrian had received a message that they had a new case for the morning. It’d come in after hours.

Hennigan Gallery robbery. John Hennigan killed.

The group responsible was one they’d been chasing for a while, but their heists had never ended in a murder. Marcus had never been on *any* case that ended in murder. As such, Marcus quickly excused himself from sitting with Adrian to head home a bit early and get through some prep work. He waltzed towards the front door only to find that the foyer was where Wendy had dragged you off to. He didn’t mean to listen in, really. It was very obviously a private conversation that he wanted no part of, but in waiting for a break in conversation to try to sneak by he had heard the last of it.

It was enough to know that you were talking about him. Enough to know that he should’ve interrupted and thereby saved himself the ache of hearing how you actually felt about your relationship to him.

Nothing?

You certainly weren’t “nothing” to him. You were, well, not quite everything. Not yet, he hadn’t let himself go that far, but you were certainly something.

He felt your eyes drilling into him as he slipped past. What exactly did you want him to say? He thought as he gritted his teeth, letting the door fall closed behind him a little too loudly.

In that moment he felt the most uneasy mixture of heartbreak and anger. He wasn’t a generally angry person, but the flippancy of your “nothing” cut deep. It was like you were giving Wendy an obvious answer. It flowed so naturally from your lips.

He’d once again gone too far, assumed he meant more, assumed this would turn out any different from any other relationship he’d found himself in. How did he go so wrong a third time? He’d really tried to take it so slowly, but still show that he did have some kind of intention with you. It had seemed at the time that you’d picked up on the good-natured flirting. Had it been too much? Not enough? Was he really that hard to love? He couldn’t afford to try to decipher it all. What hurt the most is that he had to hear it like this. It wasn’t because he took a chance and it wasn’t because you wanted to be honest with him. No, it was something he was never supposed to hear in the first place. Fate’s cruel trick. Though he guessed it was better to know than to continue being blissfully unaware.

But was it really better?

The Tuesday morning alarm was a rude awakening for Marcus, mostly because it wasn’t much of an awakening. Sleep had evaded him, just as he had expected it to after the events of the evening. He got up quickly-- better to keep busy than sit around, lost in miserable thinking. He didn’t work that way anymore. If he spent every day of heartbreak wallowing instead of pushing forward, well, it’d be a pretty significant chunk of his life at this point.

After all, this shouldn’t be all that depressing right? It’s not like you two really were anything. Or that you’d even known each other for all that long. It’d been a matter of weeks. What were you to him anyway? You’d helped each other with a problem, that problem seemed to now be solved. The deal was done. You didn’t owe him anything. You could, and should, part ways in peace, go back to being work acquaintances that nodded at each other in the hallway and made small talk at the water cooler.

That’s what people with “nothing going on” do, right?

Nothing.

But then what was all of that?

Just… nothing.

He left his place without eating breakfast.

Time to get to work-- and pray he didn’t see you.

The air in the office felt different the moment you stepped inside, but you decided that might’ve just been your impression. It felt like everyone you passed was staring at you. It was like they knew you’d inadvertently broken the heart of everyone’s best work friend last night.

You guessed you deserved the cold treatment in that case-- even if it was only an imagined one.

The words had been out of your mouth before you could even recognize what you were saying. You were frustrated and felt cornered by Wendy’s questions that hit at too deep of a truth. You didn’t even mean them, but you knew it would take more than an excuse like that to explain the situation to Marcus. If you told him you didn’t mean it, then you’d have to tell him what you did mean, and that was a conversation you found yourself reluctant to have.

Over the past twelve hours or so you’d taken the time to process what you actually meant, to understand it for yourself. In truth? You did like Marcus. It’d been a matter of weeks, but he had completely wormed his way into your guarded affection. He was caring and intentional and kind, with the goofiest sense of humor and the biggest love for breakfast food you’d ever seen. You truly couldn’t believe how anyone could’ve let him go.

But of course, now you were doing the same. You didn’t like the way that realization sat in your chest. You let him go before you ever really had him, refusing to even bring him in in the first place out of fear. This had to be remedied, and quickly. The office felt different now without him in your corner.

You looked regretfully at your schedule filled to the brim with interrogations. Interrogations that were originally supposed to be with Marcus by your side. Now he was reassigned to the Hennigan Gallery case and Wendy had taken his place with you. Probably for the best anyway, but damn, it would be good to see his face right about now. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t made his usual trip by your desk this morning to say hello.

A tap on your desk ripped you from your thinking and a split second of hope burned in your chest as you looked up.

No, not Marcus. Of course not. It was Wendy, eyes filled with compassion. Her voice was soft and sympathetic as she asked if you were ready to go downstairs and question the first person. You nodded simply, quietly gathering your things and standing to walk beside her. The silence didn’t break until the elevator doors closed behind you both.

“I’m so sorry about what happened yesterday and my part in it. Don’t get me wrong, that was a conversation you needed to have, but I should’ve waited to have that conversation with you,” Wendy pleaded. You sighed.

“It’s alright, Wendy. It’s not really your fault. It’s mine. If I would’ve told you the truth, it wouldn’t have ended the way it did.” Your confession was met with a confused silence, so you clarified after a beat. “These past few weeks I’ve really started to,” you mentally scrolled through the possible words you could use and found they all choked you before you could even begin to utter them.

Like.

Need.

Want.

Fall for.

“F-feel what you think i’m feeling… For Marcus. And the thought of that-- being asked about it-- just really freaked me out.”

In your peripheral you could see Wendy shake her head and you heard her breathe out the smallest laugh.

“What?” you groaned, both of you continuing to stare straight ahead as the elevator doors parted open.

“You are the most emotionally constipated person I’ve ever met.”

“Shut up.”

You stepped out together, taking an immediate right to greet the first of the Elizabet Ney Museum employees you had to question.

You couldn’t stop your foot from bouncing as you now sat back at your desk, wracking your brain over the notes you’d taken over the past few hours of interrogations. The Elizabet Ney heist was proving itself more and more as a tough nut to crack. There was too little information, too small of a suspect pool, and absolutely no evident motivation. Today you’d questioned every volunteer and employee that’d stuck even a toe in the museum in the past year and all of them seemed just as lost as you were.

Jane Meran, a 70 year-old retiree volunteer and avid art fan couldn’t imagine any reason why anyone would want the stolen goods. They couldn’t have been worth much, she laughed. Her alibi for the day of the crime was as honest and clear as the look in her incredulous eyes as she heard about the theft for what was apparently the first time.

The three sixteen year old volunteers who had been there that day-- Jeremy, Etta, and Leslie-- all snorted at the mere thought of any of them being the culprit.

“Who cares about all of that junk?” they’d remarked. Their alibis were solid: they’d left their required community service hours for school and went and got high at a friend’s house. Etta had smacked Jeremy for that admission.

“This is the FBI dumbass. You’re gonna get us in trouble.” Her whisper was loud enough for you to still hear. You sighed.

Tony Berrara, an assistant manager of sorts and one of two people who’d brought in the artifacts-- the other of which was Mrs. Moa-- sang the very same tune. He had heard the endless nagging of the surviving family members who brought the heirloom and the bust all day while unloading it. They had told him over and over to be extremely careful lest he break either one, but he didn’t think they seemed all that special, not compared to some of the other items that had been procured for the museum. His alibi for later that evening was equally as airtight.

And that was it for the initial suspects. As you had already figured out, there was absolutely no motivation here, and that fact was now exacerbated by the alibis, all confirmable by outside sources. Back to the drawing board. You bit the end of your pen as you thought, looking out the windows at the panoramic view of the surrounding city.

This case was going to require a little more intensive research. You wondered regretfully if Marcus had done any research before getting moved to the new case. He probably had; he always seemed to be prepared for anything-- obnoxiously so. Your glance fell back to your desk, dropping your pen as you rested your forehead in your hands.

You could always just ask him.

Or you could do it yourself.

Or you could ask him.

That’d be a good way to talk to him, you reasoned. While you were at it you could clear the air.

With a gulping breath, you stood up and headed to the elevator.

Marcus had had a very very weird morning.

It started off by him being so lost in his head that he had forgotten that he was supposed to go to the Special Crimes offices for the week. He was met with caution tape strung across the entrance to his usual floor and quickly hit the button to take him back down to the 5th floor. Of course it was too late by the time he punched the number and the elevator descended all the way back down to the lobby.

There was a woman waiting at the bottom and the moment of confusion as she waited for him to get off was more embarrassment than he felt that he could handle at 8am.

“It’s ok. I’m going back up,” Marcus said sheepishly as the brunette finally stepped in. She noddly simply, but smiled at him as she replied.

“We’ve all been there.”

The way she kindly tried to ease his embarrassment made him feel about fifty pounds lighter. He grinned back. She had a harsh face, but her smile was infectious.

The elevator dinged as it approached the 5th floor and he and the woman bumped shoulders as they attempted to get off at the same time.

Marcus mentally smacked himself for not paying better attention. He was always the “after you” guy on elevators.

“Sorry, sorry. Go ahead, please,” he recovered, stepping back into place. Her look was quizzical, as if she wanted to ask him something, but she seemed to let it go as she stepped through the doors and turned the opposite direction from where Marcus was headed.

He was beyond grateful for that.

He made it into the glass conference room right on time for the team’s meeting with the distraught Mrs. Hennigan. That was the most normal part of the morning, that is, until a particularly brash blond man by the name of Patrick Jane waltzed into the room like he owned the place and somehow managed to take over the case. Marcus had allowed it for the simple fact that he felt way out of his depth in dealing with a murder case, but he couldn’t say he was particularly excited about working with the irritating man whose reputation proceeded him.

Next thing Marcus knew, he was briefing an entire room of Art Squad and Special Crimes Agents on this theft-murder case that’d become so much more than he had initially signed up for.

Then he saw her.

The woman from the elevator, walking into the meeting. He locked eyes with her for just a moment before checking himself and getting back to business.

She listened intently throughout the whole thing, looking him directly in the eye as he spoke, making the occasional comment. And soon he was finding he could only look at her.

Oh no.

Not again.

It was too soon.

But didn’t everyone deserve a rebound?

And it’s not like you’d even been together, right?

There was no harm in taking interest in a woman that was more and more obviously interested in him by the second…

Right?

He attached to her side the moment the meeting ended. She was bright-eyed and curious, asking him all sorts of questions about art and specifically about the confiscated art storage in the basement.

“Do you wanna go see it?” he beamed, revealing the dimple on his cheek.

In that moment, he’d felt more important than he had in days-- weeks, even. Last night’s events had colored the past few weeks in such a way that he looked at them with a totally new perspective.

He hadn’t really mattered to you. He was a means to an end. A way to get your boss off your back. At best, he was an acquaintance.

But here? In this moment? He was important. Someone cared about him-- or at least what he had to say. That was a start.

The oddest moment of the day, though, came as he walked the woman-- Teresa, he’d discovered her name was-- out of the conference room to take her down to see the Art Squad’s “Aladdin” area in the basement. He could’ve sworn he saw a flash of a distinct multi-colored cardigan disappear around the corner. In his peripheral, it looked just like the one he’d seen you wear almost every day for the past week. But that didn’t make any sense. He wasn’t expecting to see you anytime soon, at least not because you were purposefully on his floor.

He’d probably imagined it.

Just ghosts of the past.

The elevator dinged, signaling it was time to go down.

#marcus pike x reader #agent pike x reader #iyewbil #bri writes

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pinguuus · 3 years

Text

An overview on Yuuta and Yuuji

I hope and pray that we have some development on this topic in this weeks’s chapter, but to put it simply, Yuuta killing Yuuji would pretty much be him paving his own death.

I’ve seen some people getting shocked by Yuuta’s actions in the past few chapters, in how he is seemingly keen on executing Yuuji himself.

However, and despite the fact that Yuuta has stabbed Yuuji and dragged him around apparently dead, I don’t think we can make such a superficial reading of the situation without taking into account who Yuuta is, and how he enrolled in Jujutsu Tech.

(First time writing something with this extent so please bear with me)

Yuuta is constantly followed by a special grade cursed spirit, Rika, who for several years he couldn’t control, therefore hurting people against his own will. This brew feelings of impotence and despair inside of him - since he can’t avoid hurting people who are in his, and in association, Rika’s presence, he would rather isolate or even kill himself in order to put an end to the series of events he originated.

Yuuta is the first person we see in the story who is a victim of the Jujutsu system’s modus operandi - someone, anyone, despite age, personality, personal story and potential, who is seen as a threat, either to society or to the System, is to be eliminated.

Gojou is a piece that is inside the System but simultaneously outside of it. He has enough influence, being the most powerful and feared sorcerer, to not find any evident active opposition to his wishes. And his wish in Yuuta’s situation is to let him live, help him unravel Rika’s curse and his potential along with it.

We see this pattern again in the main story with Yuuji, now a vessel to a Special Grade curse and thus a threat to society and to the Jujutsu System. Once again, despite his young age, his soft personality and his potential, he is set for execution. And once again, Gojou intervenes and takes him under his wing to develop his potential, both as a vessel and a sorcerer. It is important to note, however, that contrary to Yuuta, Yuuji is against his execution, and doesn’t understand the need for it.

Back to Yuuta, he feels the prejudice for him the day he first enters Jujutsu Tech, when he meets his fellow colleagues, who display a general feeling of fear and horror, and for Maki, even despise.

Maki reads him quite well from the get-go and points him out as a passive individual, as someone who, being unconfortable with what happens surrounding him, decides to take the easy way out and avoid the problem by avoiding triggers instead of going out of his comfort zone and trying to actually solve the problem.

This was pretty much a wake up call for Yuuta, who probably never gave much thought about being able to take an active part in his situation, having accomodated to his circumstances and to the level of protection Rika granted him. Making him think about this, Maki helped him find his motivation - he wants to be reliable, so that he feels like he deserves to keep living. He feels the need to validate his life through his actions.

Back to Yuuji: his motivation is revealed with Yaga’s interview - his life up until then was pretty straighforward, simple and normal, with him being some kind of freak in respect to sports, but having nothing unique to him. Once he ate the first finger, he has a purpose that can solely be put onto himself - eat the rest of Sukuna’s fingers and avoid the deaths that rampaging curses attracted by those fingers would cause. There is Yuuji’s desire to be reliable and also, the way he found to be kept alive. He had decided how he wanted to live.

Fast forward to Shibuya, and Sukuna’s rampage ends up killing probably a good part of the region’s population. This is a first to Yuuji, and here is where he starts drawing closer to Yuuta’s own storyline - the curse he lives with masacred people, drawing feelings of deep guilt to Yuuji. Guilt for eating the finger in the first place, and guilt for being alive when the higherups wanted to execute him. He questions if his motivation was real to start with or just a facade for him to avoid his death. Here we see the first obvious display of Yuuji also needing to validate his own existence through his actions.

Also similar to Yuuta, Yuuji isolates himself, showing feelings of uncertainty regarding if he should return to Megumi and to his other coleagues, after thousands of people died, including Nanami and possibly Nobara, and Gojo got imprisoned, because he believes those events were his fault. He couldn’t be reliable for these people - indeed, he thinks he was their demise.

Then we assist to the decision making of the higher up council - execute Yuuji and Yaga, and keep Gojou imprisoned (this last topic shows how much of an influence Gojou’s power has over the higherups - and him being MIA makes it easy for the system to restart reoperating in its prefered ways) for being the accountable ones for the tragedy that happened in Shibuya.

Yuuta makes his first appearance in the main series and offers himself for the task of killing Yuuji, making his motive the fact that because of Sukuna’s rampage, his friend Inumaki was left without an arm.

However, in the beggining of this scene we see how Yuuta adresses the higher ups:

He knows he doesn’t have their sympathy, and even makes a remark that seems very sarcastic to me “Then should I enter into a binding vow or something?”, demarking how he knows that no matter what he does, he will always have his death penalty hovering over him.

Now, let’s take a look into what was decided in council:

Let’s connect some dots here. Yuuta was saved by Gojou, who enrolled him in Jujutsu Tech, where he met people who he admires and are precious to him. Let’s start with Gojou.

Gojou postponed his execution and gave him a choice: after he learned how to control Rika, Yuuta could choose either or not he wanted to proceed with his penalty. He gave him the chance to work on himself and not throw his life away on a whim.

Then we have Maki, who I already wrote above was able to read him right away, and acted as a catalyser for his change of attitude. Yuuta admires Maki, despite her having the ghost of being “the failure of the Zen’in family” hovering over her.

And also, this panel:

(”Let’s crush the Zen’in family”? Uhm, as much as in this panel it might sound like a joke, it definitely makes it look to me like a negation to a possible cooperation with Naoya in the current timeline)

Then, Inumaki, an often misunderstood kid who has been trying to help Yuuta since day one because he went through similar cirscumstances since he was little.

(Who do we have that is also going through similar circumstances? That’s right, Yuuji.)

And we also have Panda of course. The interactions we see between them are either more lighthearted or this instance above where he gives Yuuta some insight on Inumaki.

These are the people who he warmed up to, and who he wants to protect. Okkotsu won’t side with anyone who trashtalks or tries to hurt them in any way.

However, this trio also has a connection with Yuuji, one of friendship and partnership at that. For example, look at this panel of Panda when he hears about the possibility of Yuuji’s execution plan being reset into action:

There.

If Yuuta would decide to execute Yuuji, not only would he be agreeing with the same plan that deems his saviour as a criminal and murderer, but he would as well be hurting this trio that he loves.

Moreover, and returning to the Toge/ Yuuta/ Yuuji “parallel”, Yuuta killing Yuuji would mean a disregard for Panda’s words regarding Toge as well as for Toge’s attempts to help Yuuta in dealing with his situation, since he would be taking an opposite approach with Yuuji. Yuuta taking this approach to avenge Toge himself would be absolutely despisable.

Also, we have to address Gojou’s travels abroad to talk with Yuuta. What about? Was he prediciting that something could go wrong with him and therefore passing his role to Yuuta?

To finish this up, the last reason I believe Yuuta is not killing Yuuji is the fact that him doing such thing would in a certain way open a precedent for the execution of his own penalty. The higher ups aren’t trustworthy, and Yuuta, both for his condition and for being Gojou’s pupil, knows this very well.

Yuuta shares Yuuji’s pain, doubts, prejudice and circumstances. He is the one who is set to understand Yuuji’s situation the best in it’s entire complexity. Because they are so similar in so many aspects, Yuuta killing Yuuji would pretty much be Yuuta killing himself.

#I hope this made sense #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jjk spoilers #yuuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #yuuji itadori #itadori yuuji #I got so many panels here gosh #also I believe Yuuta will have a important role in Yuuji's development and how he will deal with this incident #jujutsu kaisen meta #jjk #jjk meta #someone probably already made all these points but oh well

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logically-asexual · 3 years

Text

Hold me like you mean it

summary:

Logan’s feelings for Virgil and the fact that now Virgil barely notices him are stopping him from getting any work done. Janus offers a way for Logan to cope, by disguising himself into Anxiety. but is this really what Logan needs? and what’s in it for Janus, anyway?

alternatively, an angsty story about rejection, denial, and manipulation.

warnings: (for the whole fic) unrequited love, rejection, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, gaslighting, dependency, dubious consent and non consent for kissing, sad ending, depression (vaguely described), angst in general, nightmares. let me know what else i should add.

Read on AO3

Chapter 2

| Previous | | Next |

words: 1146

before starting: if second-hand embarrassment is too painful for you, you can skip this chapter lol. i struggle with it and writing this was An Experience (but i found it hilarious so). you can check the notes at the end of the post for a quick summary of what happened.

The following day Logan began taking his plan into action. He made sure to be supportive of Virgil’s contributions, while gently reasoning against some of his wildest arguments when it was necessary. He was very careful with his words, trying not to insult the Side in any way, and to remind him subtly that he appreciated him. Logan also tried glancing at Virgil when the more enthusiastic Sides said something amusing, in hopes of Virgil smiling back and sharing an unspoken agreement with him about the others’ unnecessary outbursts. He didn’t fully succeed, for Virgil didn’t explicitly acknowledge any of his attempts. However, he seemed slightly more relaxed around Logan than the previous days, so he marked the day down as positive.

Later, Logan smiled to himself as he waited for the water on the stove to boil. He was preparing tea, as he usually did at this time, to help him start relaxing and get ready for bed. He also made sure to pour water for one extra mug, which he would take to Virgil. If everything went well, Virgil would allow him into his room and they would converse while they drank their tea, but he would be satisfied even if he only accepted it and returned to his isolation.

Now that the water was hot enough, he turned to turn the stove off and poured it into the mugs. As he did, he heard familiarly cautious steps enter the kitchen behind him. He turned around and, as expected, found Virgil standing close to the counter.

“Hello, Virgil,” he said, with a low volume. “How have you been today?”

“Hey.” he replied with a small nod. “I’m alright, thank you.”

Logan believed him, his body language conveyed calm and security. He was slouched over, as usual, but his hoodie was open, his jaw wasn’t clenched and his fingers weren’t fidgeting. Logan couldn’t be sure if this was directly caused by his thoughtful actions earlier, but he considered it to be the most likely cause. After a moment, he remembered what he was doing and told Virgil about the tea, offering him a mug, which he accepted with a smile.

They both enjoyed their drink in comfortable silence. When Logan’s cup was halfway finished, he noticed Virgil had started fidgeting again, but he didn’t mention it, allowing him to voice his concern when he was ready.

Minutes later, Virgil set his mug on the counter and spoke.

“Hey, Lo. I noticed that you’ve been um... nicer... to me than usual. Is there a- a reason in particular?”

Logan felt his heart pick up speed. Did he exaggerate on his gestures? He had thought they were subtle enough, and didn’t expect Virgil to become suspicious of him so soon. He looked around the kitchen as he hurried to find the right words for his answer. He didn’t want to overwhelm the anxious Side, but maybe the best course of action was to tell the truth. At least as much of it as he was comfortable sharing. He carefully put his own mug next to the other, avoiding eye contact with Virgil.

“I have mentioned before that I don’t mind your company. Since you’ve been isolating yourself lately I thought I could remind you of that, and demonstrate that you could reach out to me, if you wanted.”

Logan adjusted his tie nervously as Virgil studied him. “You… really care that much about me?”

“Well, yeah. I-” he interrupted himself when Virgil took a step forward.

“How much?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I hate guessing games, Logan. How much do you care?” Virgil sounded determined as he got closer and closer, cornering Logan into the counter.

“I… well, I consider you a- a friend-” He felt his face warm up as Virgil rested a hand on his cheek.

“Just a friend?” Virgil looked at him with a surprisingly shy expression in his eyes, despite how tall he was standing and how close he was leaning on him.

Logan’s words died on his tongue as their noses touched. Nervousness coulded his thinking, yet he found himself enjoying Virgil’s touch. Logan took a deep breath to calm himself, and met Virgil’s gaze, who held eye contact for a second before looking down at his lips. Virgil leaned impossibly closer, but not enough yet. Logan closed his eyes and tilted his face slightly forward, but before his mouth could meet the other’s, Virgil pulled away.

He opened his eyes and saw Virgil hunched down… laughing? It started small but gradually he stopped trying to contain it, the uncharacteristic loudness unsettling Logan even more.

“Oh, darling, you’re adorable.” He said, trying to catch his breath. “You should have seen your face!”

If Logan had felt warmth on his face earlier, now it was figuratively on fire, as he looked mortified at the other Side. His heart pounded in his chest and his thoughts raced trying to understand what was happening. Things began to make sense when Virgil’s appearance shifted, revealing Deceit behind the disguise.

“Janus?! What the hell are you doing?”

Janus’ cackling had died down to a soft chuckle after changing back, and he kept his wide grin as he replied. “What? Am I not allowed to have fun every once in a while? Everyone is so boring around here.”

Logan crossed his arms and stared at him sternly, waiting for Janus to admit his actual intentions.

“I wanted to prove a point.” He finally confessed. “Because apparently you weren’t aware of your own little crush.”

Logan faltered at Janus’ words, just now processing what he had been about to do before the shocking reveal. Was he really attracted to Virgil that way? No. This didn’t prove anything. Experiments need full control of all independent variables to draw conclusions about their effects on dependent variables, and Virgil being portrayed by another Side added too many possibilities into the situation that could have influenced Logan in unexpected ways. In addition, Logan had never been that close physically to any of the other Sides. Who knows if this faux-Virgil was the cause, or if events would have occurred similarly with any of the others. This wasn’t a valid experiment and it shouldn’t be considered as such.

“This doesn’t prove anything.” He mumbled. “Why do you care so much about this, in any case?”

“I care about you.” Janus said with a playful tone.

“Falsehood. You want something.”

“And what does it matter? You have a problem, and your idea of a solution is frankly pathetic, as if you could gain Anxiety’s trust back with passive gestures in only a few days. You need me, and I am happy to oblige.”

There was a silent pause while Logan hugged himself and avoided looking Janus in the eye. A moment later Janus told him to think about it and left, once again leaving him all alone.

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notes:

summary: logan acted on his plan and was extra kind to virgil. janus disguised as virgil and went to logan to pretend he liked him back, almost kissing him, but before logan could kiss virgil janus revealed himself and made fun of logan (hence the embarrassment). logan still refuses to believe he has a crush on virgil and janus refuses to admit his motive behind wanting to help him.

thank you for reading! <3

#virgil sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #analogical #loceit #unrequited crush #unhealthy relationships #toxic relationship #manipulative relationship #manipulation #angst #thomas sanders #sanders sides #hold me like you mean it

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ibijau · 3 years

Note

Hey, you said prompts are still open? If so, can you write something where jin guangshan is giving lan xichen 'unwanted attention'? Hopefully xisang?

Oops, this isn’t really xisang, and in fact mostly focuses on jgy. I finished this a few weeks ago actually, but just... forgot to post it? somehow??

warning for implied rape, especially against minors

It is bad enough when Jin Guangshan looks at women like that. Every time Jin Guangyao catches his father’s lecherous glances toward servants, entertainers, girls of good birth or, on a few repulsing occasions, his own daughter-in-law, he finds himself shivering with uncontrollable disgust. He shouldn’t mind, it’s just traces of the brothel clinging to him even now. A man like Jin Guangshan is allowed to look however he pleases at whoever he likes, and Jin Guangyao is acting like the whore’s son he is whenever he silently disapproves.

Jin Guangshan looking at women inside his house is nothing at all like patrons looking at the girls at the brothel. Jin Guangyao knows those servants aren’t going to be cheated, he knows they get compensated for submitting to their master’s desires, he knows that Jin Guangshan isn’t foolish enough to make advances to women he shouldn’t want, not when there are so many pretty girls he can buy. Jin Guangyao knows this, because it is part of his job to compensate his father’s flings. Jin Guangshan has decided he would know how to handle this.

Jin Guangyao hates that his father was right about that. He knows how to deal with crying girls, how much money to give them (more than he should, but no one has noticed yet), how to find them work elsewhere once Madam Jin has figured out what’s happening and they must be asked to leave. Jin Guangyao deals with all this easily.

What he can’t deal with is seeing his father start looking at Lan Xichen.

There are not many people Jin Guangyao cares about. His mother is dead. Nie Mingjue, whom he once admired, now terrifies him. He has some vague affection for Nie Huaisang, who is a little stupid but likeable, and for Jin Zixuan and his wife, who are both trying their best to be kind to him. He loves his father. He has to. He refuses to consider the alternative, however tempting it is sometimes, in the dark of night, after another incident where Jin Guangshan treated him worse than he treats some servants.

Jin Guangyao loves his father, like the dutiful son he is.

He also loves Lan Xichen, the only brother he truly wants in his life.

If it were anyone else that Jin Guangshan had newly set his eyes on, Jin Guangyao could ignore it. His father rarely bothers with men, but he does on occasion. Those boys usually have to be paid more than the girls.

Jin Guangshan is not kind to the boys he takes to bed.

If it were anyone else pestering Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao would find ways to deal with them, either on his own through veiled threats, or by carelessly mentioning it next to Nie Mingjue, who would have the power to make very open threats.

But it is Lan Xichen, it is Jin Guangshan, and Jin Guangyao is torn between loyalties.

So he does what he is best at, and maintains the status quo until he's forced to pick a side.

Or at least, he tells himself that's all he's doing. If he prefers to meet his sworn brothers away from Lanling these days, it is only because Nie Mingjue is such an annoyance for Jin Guangshan. And certainly Lan Qiren is always invited alongside his nephew at conferences and official meetings lately, and then placed closer to Jin Guangshan than his nephew, but that is only because Jin Guangyao knows the Lan sect value seniority high above actual rank. And when his father does manage to strike a conversation with Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao makes sure to stick around, suddenly deaf and blind to his father’s little signs that he wants time alone with whoever was unlucky enough to have caught his eye.

Afterward, his father always scolds him over some minuscule detail he thinks went wrong at that conference, but only because he dares not say out loud what truly bothered him.

Jin Guangshan is a man who openly lusts after any woman, but his taste for pretty boys and delicate men is where he draws the line for shame. Jin Guangyao finds him ridiculous for this, but in this case, it plays to his advantage and helps him protect Lan Xichen.

For weeks and weeks, Jin Guangyao continues that delicate balancing act, but the more time passes, the harder it is. There is just too much to think about lately, especially with Jiang Yanli approaching her term (the child will be born early apparently, and Jin Guangyao has suspicions… the idea must have come from Jiang Yanli, he thinks. Jin Zixuan is too awkward, too openly disgusted by his father’s behaviour, and more importantly too terrified of his mother). There’s also the continued headache of Wei Wuxian’s mysterious behaviour, the sect he may or may not have established in the Burial Mounds of Yiling. Jin Guangyao can’t get any information on that. The only cultivator to have been on the Burial Mounds since Wei Wuxian seceded from Yunmeng Jiang is Lan Wangji, who isn’t exactly the sort to gossip. And then, when he has a little time for himself, Jin Guangyao has allowed himself to chat here and there with the oh-so-lovely Qin Su who is always so happy to see him, and is so understanding when he has little time to devote to her. All this on top of his normal work of course.

There seems to be a lot more of that lately, too. Jin Guangyao would not ever accuse his father of punishing him for his interference regarding Lan Xichen, but it takes great effort to not think about it.

Jin Guangyao is starting to feel truly exhausted, but he just borrows medicine from the doctors to keep going, and prays that things will calm down when his father is given a grandson.

Two months before the planned date of birth (a little under a month before the actual, honest planned date), Jin Guangyao’s sworn brothers come visit him. They explain that they’ve been worried about him. Jin Zixuan, charming imbecile that he is, has written to them to say that his half-brother looks badly in need of a break, and surely Jin Guangshan won’t be able to deny him one if two sect leaders are here to demand his company, right?

Jin Guangyao, while very touched that his brother would care enough to do this, still wants to strangle him.

Without surprise, instead of Jin Guangyao being allowed to spend time with his sworn brothers, the two men are quickly swept away by Jin Guangshan to discuss new rumours coming from the Burial Mounds. Since Nie Mingjue is there, nothing should happen to Lan Xichen, but Jin Guangyao finds himself increasingly anxious. He’d thought his father was just on the verge of getting over his fancy for Lan Xichen after seeing so little of him recently, but this will just reignite that fire and ruin all his hard work.

Jin Guangyao is in his office, trying to get some work done, when Nie Huaisang drops by.

Worried as he was about seeing Lan Xichen near his father, Jin Guangyao hadn’t noticed that Nie Mingjue had brought his brother along. It’s unusual, really. Nie Huaisang doesn’t much like Carp Tower apparently, and always finds some excuse to be absent from events organised there. Jin Guangyao suspects that he just finds Jin tastes too tacky for his refined preferences.

“San-ge, here you are!” Nie Huaisang exclaims, closing the door behind him and running to Jin Guangyao’s desk. “You left so quickly earlier! And here I was so happy to see you again… it’s been too long, really too long!”

Jin Guangyao half smiles. “I’m very sorry. And sadly, since I didn’t know you were coming, I don’t have any present for you this time, so…”

Nie Huaisang gasps, one hand on his heart, then pouts in what he clearly must think is an adorable manner. “San-ge, I am offended! I don’t like you just for the trinkets you get me, you know! I just like when people are nice to me. And speaking of that…”

Taking on a conspiratorial expression, Nie Huaisang glances around as if fearful he might be heard, before leaning over Jin Guangyao’s desk until he’s all be sprawled over it.

“Jin zongzhu really is nice with Er-ge lately,” Nie Huaisang remarks, opening his fan and half hiding behind it. “Very nice indeed, isn’t he?”

It takes all of Jin Guangyao’s self control not to grimace. If even someone like Nie Huaisang has noticed… though at the same time, it might not be so surprising. Jin Guangyao has suspected for a while now that Nie Huaisang too looks a little too much at Lan Xichen, even if he hasn’t yet figured out the exact reason. Sexual desire is one option, but it could also be just admiration, or even envy: Nie Huaisang probably wishes he could have been born in Gusu Lan which better fits his interest.

Jin Guangyao has wondered, on occasion, why he can never seem to pinpoint Nie Huaisang’s motivation in doing certain things. If Nie Huaisang weren’t such a charming little idiot, it might worry him. Instead, he mostly ignores it. Nie Huaisang, in the grand scheme of things, is entirely irrelevant to Jin Guangyao’s life.

“Huaisang, are you perhaps jealous?” Jin Guangyao can’t help but tease.

Immediately Nie Huaisang makes a face, his expression far more disgusted than would have been expected.

“Jealous? Of not getting that old fart’s attentions?”

“That’s my father, Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao mildly objects, a little stunned. Nie Huaisang is rarely that open about liking or disliking anyone. His personality is too mild and easy going for any intense emotions.

“Some father he is,” Nie Huaisang retorts, lazily fanning himself, sending some of Jin Guangyao’s paperwork flying everywhere. “And don’t try to defend him, I know you hardly like him any more than I do. And I know you’re almost as unhappy as I am that he’s always looking at er-ge. I’m only mostly stupid, you know. I see what you’ve been doing, even if others don’t pay attention.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Jin Guangyao dryly retorts, pushing Nie Huaisang away from his desk so he can put some order back in his papers.

So he can put some order in his thoughts as well. To have been seen and understood by someone like Nie Huaisang is a discomforting experience. It means he really must have been transparent in his efforts. No wonder his father has been so unhappy with him lately… and that’s the only reason Jin Guangyao will consider, of course. It is all because of this situation with Lan Xichen, all because of his divided loyalty, or else Jin Guangshan would have mellowed before his efforts already.

Jin Guangyao should just give in and let Lan Xichen fend for himself. It is ridiculous to think of protecting a man like the great Zewu-Jun, anyway.

Jin Guangyao should just allow for events to follow their natural course.

He would, if he didn’t know his father’s tendencies.

“You know, it’s not the first time Jin zongzhu starts looking at someone high ranking that he shouldn’t be looking at,” Nie Huaisang casually says. “He likes to establish his dominance over others, if you haven’t noticed yet.”

Jin Guangyao freezes, and shoots Nie Huaisang a curious look. The young man shrugs and closes his fan with a sharp movement, before going to pick up some papers that flew further away from the desk.

“If there’s a sect that feels weak, he’ll try to take advantage,” Nie Huaisang says as he kneels down to grab the documents. “He can’t do it with Yunmeng Jiang, because if he touches a single hair of Jiang Cheng or worse, Jiang Yanli, Wei Wuxian is going to come down from the Burial Mounds and slaughter everyone. That’s the only reason he hasn’t touched her, and you know it.”

With a slight grimace, Jin Guangyao nods. The way his father looks as his own daughter-in-law sometimes is… well. It’s good for her that her brothers are so temperamental and powerful.

“He can’t go after the Nie sect, he’s tried before and that didn’t go well for him,” Nie Huaisang casually continues, turning his back to Jin Guangyao as he meticulously tries to organise the papers he’s gathered. “But the Lan sect… ah, they’re easy pickings at the moment, right?”

“I’m sure Lan Xichen can stand for himself,” Jin Guangyao politely replies. “Though your concern is very touching.”

“I know your father’s methods,” Nie Huaisang retorts, still keeping his back turned. “And I think you know them too, because I know who pays his victims for their silence. He still uses that same drug, eh? Well, if it works…”

Jin Guangyao shivers at the other man’s tone. Suddenly, Nie Huaisang doesn’t sound like his bubbly, hare-brained self, and more like a colder version of his brother.

It suddenly occurs to Jin Guangyao that Nie Huaisang really is too frequently absent from events taking place in Lanling, and that he often disappears quickly even when his brother drags him there.

It also occurs to him that with how often Nie Mingjue has complained against his brother’s reluctance, he cannot know what caused it. Nie Mingjue isn’t one to play pretend. He also isn’t one to let insults or attacks against his brother go unpunished. Nie Huaisang knows that as well. And with how powerful the Nie sect is at the moment, a danger even to Lanling Jin, it makes no sense for Nie Huaisang to have kept secrets if something happened to him recently. Not that anything could have happened without Jin Guangyao knowing anyway. Dealing with his father’s partners was one of the first duties he’s been given upon rejoining Lanling Jin after the war, he would have known.

Unless it happened before the war.

Nie Huaisang stayed an awful long time in Gusu for his studies, and while he can be charmingly stupid, he’s got a pretty decent memory and excellent manners, so studying in the Cloud Recesses should have been easy for him… unless he didn’t want to leave too early. Perhaps if he’d gotten in trouble with someone powerful, he thought that being stuck in Gusu would make it easy to avoid that person. But then, if something happened before that, Nie Huaisang would have been so young, only just…

Jin Guangyao shivers, and wishes he were more surprised. His father’s tastes aren’t unknown to him. He isn’t too picky with women, but he likes boys more than he likes men.

“Er-ge knows to be careful,” Nie Huaisang says lightly, standing up again, a cheerful smile on his lips. “I’ve told him about some of the things I’ve heard happened to pretty boys in Lanling. But he’s also the sort who doesn’t want to believe the worst of people, and anyway, sooner or later, his vigilance might slip. Besides, isn’t it awful, always having to be on your guard like that? Ah, it must be the worst. You would know, of course?”

“My father will soon have a grandchild,” Jin Guangyao replies dryly. “He’ll have better things to do than look at pretty faces. It’s just a matter of waiting.”

“Maybe he will, maybe he won’t,” Nie Huaisang snaps, dropping a pile of paper on Jin Guangyao’s desk. “I know what I’d bet on. And I know it’s not a risk I’m willing to take, anyway. I know what sort of a man your dear daddy is, A-Yao, and I don’t want certain things to happen to my er-ge. So if Jin zongzhu doesn’t keep his hands to himself…”

Jin Guangyao shivers again. A shichen ago, he’d have laughed if anyone had told him that Nie Huaisang would ever try to intimidate him. Now though, seeing that smile devoid of warmth that’s just a touch too sharp and the feverish glint in those delicate eyes, Jin Guangyao can’t help feeling some genuine worry.

“Huaisang, are you trying to threaten my father?” Jin Guangyao laughs.

“No. I’m threatening you, A-Yao,” Huaisang announces, dropping his smile. He really does look too much like Nie Mingjue when he’s serious. “Deal with your father, or I will. And we both know that I just have a few things to say to my brother to send him in a rampage. And if he’s that angry, do you think he’ll really care that you vaguely tried to help Lan Xichen?”

Jin Guangyao freezes at the thought. Nie Mingjue doesn’t like him even when he’s in a good mood, so there’s no doubt he wouldn’t feel a shred of hesitation before lumping Jin Guangyao together with his father. Depending on how Nie Huaisang frames the situation, Jin Guangyao really might look like an accomplice. Hasn’t he helped his father deal with his lovers in the past? He’s never been made to help get those boys and girls into Jin Guangshan’s bed, not yet, but being the one to keep them quiet after, isn’t it worse?

Nie Mingjue will surely think it’s worse, since it’s Jin Guangyao doing it.

“A-Yao, I’m really glad we had this little talk,” Nie Huaisang chirps, suddenly all smiles again, as if there had never been a single thought in that pretty little head of his. “We should chat more! But I know you are so, so busy, so I’ll let you be for now. Still, give this some thought, alright? And if you need help, don’t hesitate to ask. Maybe we didn’t make a big production of it like with da-ge and er-ge, but I’m your friend too!”

Happy and cheerful once more, Nie Huaisang leaves with a spring to his step.

Alone at his desk, Jin Guangyao presses a hand against his mouth to fight the nausea that an intense wave of terror is causing. That it was caused by Nie Huaisang, of all people, almost makes him break into hysterical laughter, or perhaps it makes him want to cry. The two are equally likely, and only the self control he’s learned in Wen Ruohan’s service prevent him from exploding in such a disgraceful manner.

And so, when he calms down at last, Jin Guangyao finds himself divided again.

Before, he had wondered who he was most loyal to, between his father and his one true friend.

Now, by contrast, he must decide who terrifies him most between Jin Guangshan and Nie Mingjue.

And he knows no matter the answer, blood must be spilled if he is to survive this.

#jin guangyao #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #tagging lxc because the fic is technically about him even if he's mostly absent oops #jau writes #Anonymous #but yeah legit I finished this in january I think #and I was convinced I had posted it already but turns out I hadn't ooops??

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