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#can't wait until three years from now when i can finally let the cat out of the bag. maybe. possibly.
starsstuddedsky · 10 months
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Tangled in Love
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vernon x reader
summary: there's nothing in the world that vernon loves more than cats. at least, that's what you think
genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, non-idol!au, uni au, f2L, idiots to lovers, fake dating if you squint, technically university au
warnings: none!
wc: 3.8k
a/n: started this a WHILE ago and finished it like a month ago but i wanted to let it sit lol,,, may or may not have been the other option for the poll i put out and then i may or may not have forgotten to post.... anyways i am working for literally the whole summer until school starts again so i can't promise i'll be writing a whole bunch </3 so basically: enjoy bc idk when anything else will come lol (not going on official hiatus though!! just like... limbo) pls pls feel free to drop in anytime and chat!! also requests are open but again,, i'll write when i write lol
tldr: adulting sucks, i love you all, none of this has to do with the actual story lol
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Vernon’s car sits in your driveway. The sight of his little red sedan evokes a strong sense of familiarity, almost as if it’s yours. It’s survived high school and his first three years of college, up till now, though the engine sometimes shakes the car a little too much and the air conditioning chooses to work less often than you would prefer. Still, the one time Vernon mentioned getting a new car, you nearly cried, so you don’t let yourself complain too much. 
He waits for you, keys in hand, as you tug on your shoes and sprint out the door with a shout of goodbye to your parents. Your shoes nearly slip off because you didn’t put them on all the way and they’re still untied when you make it to the front seat, slamming the door shut behind you and pulling on your seatbelt. 
“You didn’t have to rush,” Vernon says, barely sparing a glance at you. You do a supreme job pretending it doesn’t bother you. 
“Yeah, but my dad is watching hockey,” you say. Though it’s been years since Vernon has been to your house for a “play date,” you know the memory of your father yelling at the television as if the players can hear him isn’t one that Vernon (or anyone for that matter) can forget easily. 
“You know if you move out, you don’t have to hear them,” he says, finally glancing at you before turning his head to watch the road as he backs down the driveway. 
“If I move out, I also have to pay my bills on my own,” you say. 
“You have three job offers and you haven’t even graduated yet,” Vernon says. “Of all our friends, you are the most financially stable, so don’t you dare try that argument on me.” This debate has been going on ever since Vernon announced he was moving out; two years in the dorms on campus proved more than enough for him. 
You don’t understand why he’s so insistent about you moving out. Sure you complain about your parents occasionally but not enough to really matter, and he knows how grateful you are that they’ve let you stay in your childhood room and rarely let you pay for anything. 
So why? You set your eyes on him, with his annoyingly perfect features that you’ve known most of your life. He studies the road, indifferent to your glare and undistracted. 
That’s the Vernon you know: focused on the moment, and never noticing you. You know how pitiful you sound, pining for someone for so long who has never once spared you a second look. Still, before everything else, he’s your friend, your best friend. You won’t ruin that just because you caught feelings. 
“Why are we going an hour away again?” You ask, resting your back against the cushioned seats and turning your head to the window to watch the scenery pass by. It’s easier to avoid thinking about those feelings when you aren’t staring at him. 
“Because the people running the rescue needed a volunteer to pick up the kittens.” 
“And why am I here?” 
“So I don’t get kidnapped or murdered,” Vernon says nonchalantly. 
“How am I going to prevent you from getting kidnapped or murdered?” 
“Strength in numbers?” He takes his eyes off the road for half a second to flash a smile at you. 
You rolled your eyes, plugging your phone into the aux. “You should have asked Jihoon. Between his gym obsession and unbridled rage, the nonexistent potential kidnappers-murderers would never stand a chance.” 
“And he has good taste in music. Bump,” he says, bracing his arm in front of you as he hit a particularly large pothole. He drops his arm as soon as the car stops shaking and you ignore the urge to catch his hand in yours. 
“He does not, and you better not be implying I have bad taste!” You dig through your playlists, trying to find the Vernon-approved one. 
“I was implying but now I’ll outright say it.” 
“His playlist is just Bruno Mars and Harry Styles and one random Ariana Grande song.” You hold up the shared playlist for good measure. Vernon ignores you, refusing to take his eyes off the road. 
“Okay, not good taste, but better than yours.” 
“What is wrong with my taste in music?” 
“No comment.” 
“How have we been friends this long?” You ask. You can’t quite say it with a straight face; the idea of not having Vernon in your life is an absurdity you can’t imagine. 
“By the way, you need to give directions,” Vernon says. “I sent you the address last week.” 
You shake your head but dig through the messages to find the address, putting Jihoon’s playlist on to prove your point. Vernon pretends not to care, singing along to “Leave the Door Open,” as if he didn’t make fun of Jihoon a week ago because he played the song on repeat during his four hour shift at the cafe. 
When you’re being honest with yourself, you know you want more than riding in Vernon’s front seat and making pointless jokes. More than once, you’ve imagined what it’s like to go home with him and stay there, to wake up in his bed because you share it with him, instead of the times you drank too much and he slept on the couch (because of course Vernon is the type of person to give up his bed for his friend). Moments like that make it harder to remember that he doesn’t feel the same way. 
You were doing a great job of paying attention until the second half hour, when you got stuck in standstill traffic. In your mind, only a few minutes pass, but suddenly Vernon shakes your shoulder and your heart shoots bolts of adrenaline into your veins to wake you up. 
“We’re here,” he says softly. He holds your phone with the directions still open. The engine shakes the car; he must have literally just stopped. It takes a couple moments to remember that he drove you into the middle of nowhere to pick up some kittens to foster them (another bullet point in the ever growing list of why you love Vernon: he does absolutely insane things for what he loves. What would it be like to be the person he loves?). He stares at you for a moment and for some godforsaken reason, you think he’s going to kiss you. 
He points to the corner of your lips. “You drooled.” He laughs at your groan, turning in his seat and cutting the engine, tossing your phone into your lap. 
The door creaks when you pull on the handle but it swings open. You are extra careful when you swing it shut, being as gentle as possible. Vernon raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment on it. You stretch until your back finally pops, jogging to catch up with Vernon who didn’t wait for you, striding up the smooth driveway. 
Warm pastel yellow greets you, a cute door that matches the array of flowers on the front porch perfectly. Vernon sneezes and presses the doorbell, stepping back to wait, shoulder pressing against yours. Even though his jean jacket and your cotton t-shirt separate you from really touching him, you feel a different sort of warm, a tingly feeling that spreads from your insides and makes you feel giddy. 
After a couple minutes, the door opens, revealing a smiling woman and a child that can’t be more than five clinging to her leg. “You must be the fosters! Sorry, it’s a little hectic today, but come on in!” She ushers you in, picking up the child. 
Some psychopath. You glance at Vernon but he turns his back on you, following the woman down the hall to a closed door. Whatever, it’s not like he needs to see you to know the jokes you make. 
“We’ve been keeping them away from the rest of the house since it gets so chaotic,” she says. “I’d love to keep them but we’ve got two toddlers and a hyperactive dog.” She sounds genuinely regretful, which you understand as soon as you step over the baby gate and into the room. It looks like it was a spare bedroom (you can’t help but think it’s for the children when they get too big to share a room), but the bed has been stripped and there isn’t any other furniture. In the middle of the room, in a nest of blankets, a grown cat sits and licks tiny balls of fur that mewl softly in protest. The black cat pauses in her grooming, studying you and Vernon while the woman and her child watch from the door. 
“Do you want to tell the lovely couple what we named them?” She asks the child. 
You freeze. Did she just call you a couple? “We’re not–” Vernon stops you with a hand on your arm, sitting cross legged on the ground and facing the woman and her child. 
“The momma is Pinky,” the child mumbles, barely audible. “‘Cause she has really pink feet.” 
You smile at her, though you’re still reeling from Vernon’s hand, which slips from your arm to interlace his fingers with yours. “Did you name her?” 
The child grins. “Yeah! But my brother named the babies.” She pouts. 
“I think Pinky is a great name,” you say. Vernon grunts in agreement. Pinky stands and wanders slowly toward Vernon’s hand (the one not holding yours), which he holds outstretched while looking away. Looking at you. You get to see the exact moment Pinky brushes her head against his fingers, watch the corners of his mouth creep up in satisfaction, watch his eyes slip away from yours as he strokes her head. She lets off a low rumble as she purrs, brushing her whole body against his foot before leaving him to study you. 
You’ve never thought of yourself as a cat-person or a dog-person (you love them all the same), but a life-time as Vernon’s best friend (and an abundance of cat cafes) have trained you in how to get cat’s to befriend you. You let Pinky move however she wants, hyper aware of Vernon’s hand squeezing yours once before letting go. 
He shifts to look at the kittens, earning a wary glance from Pinky. She watches him for a moment before turning back to you, brushing against your hand and eventually turning her back on you, purring like the engine of Vernon’s car the entire time. 
“What’s this one called?” Vernon asks, pointing to the orange colored kitten. 
“That’s Muffin, Momma named her,” the child explains. She stands at the baby gate alone, her mother off somewhere getting all of their supplies so that you and Vernon can leave with them. Her little fingers curl around the metal. “The black one is Fried and the white one is Egg. That’s what my brother named them.” 
Vernon nods, smiling over the tiny kittens. Pinky finally decides she doesn’t want him quite so close, leaving your side to place herself between him and the kittens. He laughs, sliding back to sit next to you. 
“There’s no way you don’t end up adopting at least one of them,” you whisper. 
“I have self-control.” 
“Wanna bet?” 
Vernon turns to look at you except he’s much too close, nose just barely brushing against yours. It takes all of your willpower not to glance at his lips, infinitely harder when you realize you can feel his breath on your lips. Would he kiss you back? You push that fantasy away immediately: it’s Vernon. He’d push you away and call you weird, or do that judgy-eyebrow-wiggle-thing that he reserves only for special occasions (most recently used when Soonyoung was talking about a hookup gone wrong). You’ve always been the one he looks at when someone does something weird; what would he do if it was you being weird? Your stomach turns, the butterflies eating each other alive. You can’t do that to him, no matter how perfect his lips are. 
You jump at the sound of someone clearing their throat. You turn back to the door to see the woman holding a cat carrier doing her best not to smile. 
“Not trying to rush you two, but the sooner they settle into a nice loving home, the better,” she says, winking at ‘loving.’ You really should correct her. Actually, Vernon should correct her. He always does, the very few times that you have been mistaken as a couple. He never hesitates, so why isn’t he doing it now? Does he really not realize what she’s implying? 
He stands up, turning to face you and extending his hands to pull you up. You roll your eyes but take them anyway, ignoring the way your heart sinks when he lets go this time. He takes the carrier and gently picks up the kittens, blankets and all, and tucks them inside. Pinky follows immediately after, as if she couldn’t bear to be away from her children for more than a second. 
“I have a box ready by the door with their food, and toys, and other supplies, and I know you said you have a litter box and you’re ready, but I just wanted to make sure that they settle in nice, and I added a blanket in case they’re homesick, and–” She pauses, peering at the dark holes of the carrier as if she can see the little kittens inside. She takes a deep breath, picking up her child again, stepping to the side so that you and Vernon can leave the room. “I know you two will take good care of them, I do, I just– I’m going to miss them.” 
“Me too,” her child says, clinging to her mother’s neck. 
The woman smiles. “But we said our goodbyes already, and they’re going to be so happy with these two, right?” 
“Of course,” you say when Vernon doesn’t answer. “He’s been obsessed with cats since he was smaller than you!” You wink at the child, who giggles. 
You pick up the box at the door, grunting at the heaviness. 
“We can switch,” Vernon says softly but you shake your head. 
“It’s just to the car, it’s fine.” Vernon looks like he’s going to argue more, but finally he steps onto the front porch, moving as gently as possible, trying to disturb the precious cargo as little as possible. 
“Thank you so much again,” the woman says, setting her child down. “We really do wish we could keep them, but it makes me happy knowing that someone capable will be taking care of them, especially an adorable couple like the two of you. Do keep me updated on their adoptions.” 
You force a smile and choke out a “thank you,” following Vernon mindlessly down the driveway after she closes the door.
Adorable couple, were her exact words and Vernon said nothing. Why? The word hangs on your tongue, threatening to spill out if you so much as open your mouth. You watch as Vernon sets the carrier in the backseat, then takes the box out of your arms and places it on the floor. You force yourself to move to the passenger side when he raises his eyebrows at you, but once you’re sitting down and the seatbelt is across your chest, you’re frozen again. 
Vernon takes your phone when you don’t move, putting in your passcode (the sum of his birthday and yours). He pulls up his own playlist, a collection of hyperpop and indie artists that you normally enjoy listening to. Today it takes all your concentration not to burst. 
You almost make it the whole drive, all the way to his block, the apartment building he’s spent the last year and a half in that’s become far too familiar to you. How much time have you wasted away on the floor of his living room, drinking, doing classwork, listening to him talk about the future, rambling to him about the midnight thoughts that threaten your heart? He knows everything about you, except what you need him to know the most. 
When the question begins to burn in your heart, you can’t hold it anymore. Vernon pulls into his parking spot and it falls from your lips before you realize it. “Why?” 
He has the audacity to feign ignorance, blinking at you before finally asking, “Why what?” 
“Why did you let her think we are a couple?” 
One of the kittens mewls in the silence, a soft cry for help, sounding pitifully like your own heart. 
Vernon stares ahead of him at the concrete wall, the fading red number 19 that designates this spot as his. Just say something, your heart begs him. Stop giving me hope where there is none. His shoulders rise in the tiniest shrug. “I guess I was just curious.” 
“Of what?” 
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He glances at you, just once. “What it would be like.” He sighs. “This really isn’t the time for this conversation.” 
Your grip on the door handle is so tight your knuckles are white. So desperately, you want to believe he’s trying to say what you think he’s saying but you refuse to give yourself hope unless it’s real. “What conversation?” 
“Okay, for the record, I did think this through,” he says, “a lot. Like, for months. This isn’t coming out of nowhere, I really did try to figure out if it’s just a passing thing because the last thing I want is for things between us to be weird because you’re my best friend and I tried to imagine my life without you and that was worse than anything, so I decided I wouldn’t ruin anything except I can’t stop thinking about–”
“Vernon.” 
He pauses, turning to face you again and this time he doesn’t look away. You’ve never felt self-conscious under his gaze, not when he’s seen every awkward stage of your life and stuck with you anyways. His eyes have always been familiar to you, an oasis of comfort that you always find yourself drifting toward. But the longer he stares at you, the more you want to run away, hide from the heartbreak you see in his eyes. 
“I think I like you,” he says. “No. I do. Like, as in more than a friend. God, none of these words are working.” 
You stare at him. He’s saying everything you want him to say. He’s saying he likes you. Why can’t you move? 
Vernon runs a hand through his hair, and sighs. “Like I said, I don’t want to ruin things between us, you're still my best friend first. But I’m also sure about how I feel and I don’t want to keep it from you any longer. I can’t stay in this limbo of holding onto something that doesn’t exist, so, I’m really sorry.” 
“Sorry?” You repeat, frowning. “Why are you sorry?” 
“Because… I like you. And that ruins… this.” He gestures between you and him and that’s when you finally realize that he doesn’t know. 
“You dumbass,” you say, “I like you, too.” 
Vernon frowns, mouth hanging open a little, and you have to wonder if you looked this goofy when he was talking. Your heart swells when you realize you’re the reason for it. “You do?” 
“Yes,” you say, grabbing his hand. Your cheeks ache a little, and you realize that you’re smiling wider than you ever have before. You’ve never been this happy, not when you graduated high school, not when you and Vernon found out you got into the same college, not when you got a perfect score on that notoriously impossible chemistry final. “Vernon, I am an idiot that always thought you didn’t feel the way I did so I did everything I could to hide it. But I like you, I really, really do, and I’m sorry I never let it show.” There’s another word for how you feel, but you aren’t quite brave enough to use it yet, even if it’s what you really mean to say. 
Vernon leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “We really are dumb, huh?” 
“I can already hear Jihoon’s gloating.”
“He’s been nagging you too?” Vernon groans softly but the smile never leaves his lips. “He’s going to be insufferable.” 
You’ve grown used to silences with Vernon. Sometimes they are painful, like when he tells a joke and only you laugh. Usually they’re peaceful, comfortable silences that can only exist between two people that have nothing left to say but stay together anyways. But this silence is heavy, a weight on your shoulders pushing you to do something, move closer. You’ve known him your whole life but this is foreign territory. 
His breath kisses your lips again and this time you have the bravery to lean forward, just a little. His lips are soft, bottom lip chapped a little more than the top but it is warm and it feels like a first and thousandth at the same time, like unlocking the door to a house you know you’ll spend the rest of your life in. Your mind floats farther and farther away, in some place of impossible happiness that can’t quite believe that this is real. 
A soft cry from somewhere to your left brings you back to earth. You pull away at the same time he does, glancing at the backseat. Right. The kittens. You glance at Vernon, whose mouth is still a little open, eyes wide and flustered. It makes you want to kiss him all over again but you settle for laughing. 
“I guess we should go inside,” he says, leaning away from you though he doesn’t turn his back yet. 
“We should get them settled,” you say, glancing at the carrier again. 
Vernon nods, opening his door and grabbing the heavy box, pausing by the entrance to the building to wait for you to grab the carrier. Silence falls again as you ride the elevator up but you’re more than familiar with it. 
It doesn’t take long to settle Pinky and the kittens, not when Vernon already had a room set up for them. He figures there’s been enough stress for the day and they should get some peace and space to relax, so you stretch out on the couch, taking your usual corner. Vernon sits next to you, the inch of space separating you feeling like a mile. 
Vernon glances at you, chewing on his lip before asking, “You’ll stay?” 
“Always.” 
The grin that splits his face has you swooning all over again, so when he throws an arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side, your brain fully stops functioning. You have to will thoughts into existence, which is silly because it’s Vernon and he’s done this a million times. But when you tuck your head onto his shoulder and he kisses the top of this head, you know everything is different. And exactly how you want it. 
“You’re definitely going to adopt Fried,” you say. 
His laughter bounces you. “No way.” 
“It’s Fried or Muffin. You can’t handle their cuteness, I saw you baby talking at them.” 
“I'll stay strong.” 
“What if I want a kitten?” 
Vernon doesn’t hesitate. “Egg is pretty cute.” 
“Sucker.” 
“Only for you.” 
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thank you for reading <3
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sissylittlefeather · 7 months
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Introducing...
A Very Quiet Life
A/N: this is an AU in which Elvis is your next door neighbor in the suburbs in the mid-late '60s. I have three parts completed and more in the works, so hang on for some chapters!
I hope you enjoy it!
Warnings: The reader is a widow. That's about it. It's pretty fluffy, but don't worry. The smut is coming 😈
Song inspo:
Gif inspo (this is how I picture him in this one)
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The little house is perfect for your family of 3. You stand and look at it from where you've just gotten out of your car. The white siding and blue shutters are exactly what you wanted. You'll have to get a lawnmower, though, because the yard is already a little wild.
"Mama, can we get out and see?" Your 7-year-old daughter, Jane, calls from her place on the backseat. Your 5-year-old son, Michael, is knocking on the window. The sound of the kids pulls you out of your daydream about how many wonderful memories you'll make there together. You turn around and let them both out of the car. They run up to the front door and you decide to unload the car later. The movers have already gotten all the furniture and big boxes into the house. When you open the front door, you have a soft pang in your heart as you think of how your husband had carried you across the threshold at your old apartment. Now that he's gone, you'll have to carry yourself. You walk in and go to the kitchen to start unpacking. You're excited to make this into a home. This little house is your pride and joy. Between your husband's army death benefits and your part time job typing in an office, you were finally able to save up for the house. Now it's yours and you can't wait to live here and have a real future. Since your husband died, you feel like you've been in a holding pattern. However, it's been almost 4 years, and you're ready to live again.
As you unpack glasses into the cabinet, something catches your eye out the window over the sink. The window looks into your neighbor's front yard. It's beautifully manicured and you can see why. There's a man out there cutting the grass. A very attractive man, you think to yourself. His dark hair is wet with sweat and his white t-shirt sticks to his broad chest, revealing a manly and strong physique. When he pushes the mower, his muscles flex and the veins in his forearm are visible. His skin is tanned from working outside, probably on the lawn. You don't even notice you're biting your lower lip until he looks up in the direction of your window. You gasp and drop the glass you were holding in the sink.
Can he see you?
Thankfully, the glass doesn't break and you're able to pick it up quickly and go back to what you were doing. When you take a chance and look back out the window, you see that he's shaking his head and smiling, looking down at the mower. His smile almost takes your breath away. You wonder if he's smiling because he saw you or because of something else. Deciding it must be something else, you turn and go back to unpacking boxes in the kitchen. Your neighbor is a lucky woman.
******
You smooth Michael's hair and brush some crumbs off of his front. Then, you straighten Jane's hair ribbon.
"Now, remember to smile. We want our neighbors to like us." You coo to the children just before you knock on the front door of your neighbor's house. You've been in your new home for three days, so it seems like the right time to get to know the people around you. On your right is Mrs. Pottsboro, an older lady with several cats. She was very kind and appreciative of the cookies you brought. She also volunteered to watch the children if you need her to, which is an offer you won't forget. Directly across the street are the Walters, a family of five with kids around the same ages as yours. You enjoyed a nice conversation with them while the kids munched on cookies and ran around the yard. Now, you are at the house to your left. As you knock, you briefly remember the man you saw mowing the lawn. You've seen him a couple of times since then, getting the paper and watering the grass. You really need to meet his wife and put a stop to the things you've been thinking about him.
The door opens and it feels like a ton of bricks has landed in your stomach. It's him. After a few seconds of standing there smiling like an idiot, him trying to suppress a smirk, you clear your throat and speak.
"Hi! I'm y/f/n y/l/n and this is Jane and Michael." You touch the kids on their heads as you say their names. "We just moved in next door, so we wanted to stop by and say hello and give you these." You hold out a plate of chocolate chip cookies.
"Thank you. Why don't you all come on in?" His voice is warm and the southern accent makes it sound honey-smooth. You start to sweat a little, standing on the porch. He takes the plate of cookies and gestures for you all to come in. When you pass him, you catch a wave of his scent and it's warm and masculine, like his body seems to be. A part of you longs to smell it closer, but then reality slams into you like a freight train when his wife rounds the corner.
"Oh, hello!" She's petite and blonde, with her hair twisted into a tight bun.
"Beth, our new neighbors are here. They brought us cookies." He smiles warmly at you and holds the cookies up for her to see.
"That's so sweet! Unfortunately, we don't eat sugar." She grabs the plate and tries to hand it back to you. He intercepts it.
"She doesn't eat sugar. I do." She makes a tight-lipped smile, her eyes overly bright.
"Right. Well, thank you." She walks out of the room, leaving you and your kids with him. He bends down to be face-level with your kids.
"You guys want to help me eat these?" They both smile and nod their heads, taking a cookie from the plate that he holds out to them. He seems to be enlivened by their presence, asking them questions about the new house and their new school. They respond to him easily, comfortable with him instantly.
"Does your daddy like the new house?" He asks innocently, looking up at you.
"Oh--" you try to cut in, but Jane beats you to it.
"--our daddy is gone. He died a while back. It's just us now." His face changes to a look of deep sympathy.
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Jane." He looks up at you but keeps talking like he's talking to her. "If you or your mama ever need a man to do anything around the house, you just let me know. I'm right next door." Michael jumps in.
"Mister, I'm the man of the house now. I can take care of mama and Jane."
"Of course!" He smiles. "I bet you do a great job, too. If you ever need a bigger man, you come get me, okay?" He does a little fake punch on Michael's chin. Michael nods in agreement.
"Yes sir, Mr...?"
"Presley. Elvis Presley. Pleased to meet you." He shakes Michael's hand and kisses Jane's lightly. You have to shake yourself a bit to remember that you should leave.
"Alright, kiddos, we've bothered Mr. Presley long enough. Let's go back home." You try to usher the kids toward the door. As you walk out, he turns to you.
"It's really no problem at all, ma'am. I like kids. And I'm serious, if you need anything, let me know." He winks and you almost melt into a puddle on his front porch.
"Thank you, Mr. Presley."
"Elvis, please."
"Thank you, Elvis." It feels strange to call him by his first name, but since he insists, you oblige. He closes the door behind you and you take the hands of both kids and walk back to your own house.
******
You're doing dishes a few days later, looking out at your crazy yard compared to your neighbors' perfect one. For a second, you consider asking Mr. Presley to come mow it for you. But you don't want to inconvenience him. He was so kind to you and the children when you were there. His wife wasn't much to smile at, being almost cold in her refusal to talk to them. To be honest, you've thought of inviting him over several times. You've even considered breaking something just to have him come fix it, but you also know how bizarre and wrong that would be. You finish the dishes, get the kids ready for school and head to your job at the office.
******
After work, you drive up to the house, excited for the hour of free time you have before you have to pick up the kids. To your surprise, most of the yard is mowed. You're trying to figure out how that happened when you spot him. It's Elvis. He's out there mowing your yard without even being asked. As you walk up to the door, he turns and waves to you. You mouth "thank you" and walk inside the front door. You need to do something to show him that you're thankful for what he's doing. In the kitchen, you whip up some sweet tea and pour two glasses. By the time you get them on a tray and to the front porch, he's finished mowing the lawn. He's sweating again, T-shirt tight on his shoulders.
"Would you like some tea?" You ask shyly.
"I would, ma'am, thank you." He walks up on the porch and takes the glass from the tray.
"You don't have to call me ma'am. You can call me y/n."
"Oh, well, thank you y/n." He smiles and you feel yourself tense up. He's standing close enough to you that you catch the earthy smell of his sweat mixed with deodorant or aftershave or something manly. It's intoxicating. He's intoxicating. He takes a deep swig of his tea and then looks at you.
"Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" It seems like a strange request, since his house is so close, but you don't seem to be capable of telling him no. You lead him into the house to the small guest bath. When he comes out, he walks over to where you're standing in the kitchen, trying not to be too obvious about waiting for him.
"You didn't have to do that." You gesture to the yard.
"I know. But I wanted to. I was serious about you letting me know if you need any help." He smiles warmly.
"Kids still at school?" He looks around the house, seeming almost disappointed that they aren't there.
"Yes. I'll pick them up soon. I just come home a bit early to have an hour of quiet before I go get them." He nods and you suddenly realize that you're alone with him in your house. Your mind goes wild with daydreams of him laying you down on the couch and having his way with you.
"Well, thank you for the tea. I should be getting back." You nod and head for the door.
Before you can get there though, you feel a hand on your wrist. You look up into his face for half a second before he presses his lips against yours. You should pull away. You should stop him. But you don't. Instead you go limp and let him wrap his arms around your waist. The kiss is a sweet one, with no tongue or anything. He just holds you there with his mouth pushed into yours. When he finally pulls back, you feel like a rag doll in his arms. You desperately want him to keep kissing you, but he doesn't. Instead, he unravels his arms from around you and heads for the door. He mumbles a quick apology and disappears before you can say anything else.
You haven't felt this alive in years.
******
Chapter 2 coming soon!
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hexpea · 28 days
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Ch. 1 - Divorcee
"You've got to be joking," you shook your head, completely baffled at the news you had just heard from the city clerk sitting behind tempered glass. They gave you an empathetic stare in return, a small, awkward smile on their face.
Your fiancé, Seiko, looked at you, also bewildered to the news that they had just heard. You'd kept it a well-tucked away secret up to that point in your relationship, but the cat was very out of the bag at this point. 
"It's been three years, how could it have gone overlooked for this long?" You whined angrily to the poor, glorified secretary in front of you. You weren't paying any mind to the look of dismay Seiko was giving you. You had flames of anger in your eyes, nothing could distract from the rage you felt at the major inconvenience that was your ex-husband. You knew him to be arrogant, immature, impolite...the list could go on.
"I'm sorry, Ms. L/N, but we can't process the marriage certificate until your previous marriage to..." they trailed off to look at the name on their computer screen once again, "Satoru Gojo...is fully dissolved. There's nothing I can do, it needs his signature for final processing."
You took a deep breath, realizing there really wasn't anything you could do. "Thank you," you tried to contain your anger. As you spoke, the clerk handed over the paperwork you needed to finish things off with your previous marriage.
With what you needed in your hands, the two of you left the city clerk's office. You kept a straight face, meanwhile Seiko was positively seething. There was a sense of betrayal from such a serious secret being kept for the entirety of your two year relationship. 
"Y/N," Seiko started with concern once you were out of earshot of the general public, "you didn't tell me you were married before."
You sighed as the two of you walked toward the subway, heading down the stairs and toward the terminal. "It's a long story," you replied in a soft tone, realizing that your serious secret could have done some major damage to your current relationship. "I kept it in for a reason."
"Well, now it's out and I need to know about it," Seiko said sternly as the two of you scanned your passes and began your wait for the ride home. "Y/N, I love you, but you can't just pass this off as if it was nothing," they hissed, trying to keep their voice low so others nearby wouldn't hear.
"Let's get home first, I'll tell you everything," you closed your eyes as if to try and meditate away the headache forming in your temples.
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When the two of you returned home, you got comfortable in preparation to spill the details on your little secret. Seiko sat down with you on your sofa in your shared apartment. The two of you lived in Hokkaido. You had moved this far after your 'divorce' on purpose, in order to escape a past you longed to forget. You lived humbly, but it was a happy humble.
"Do you remember what I told you about my family?" You asked Seiko who was staring at you intently as the two of you lounged on the sofa.
"They're sorcerers, right?" They replied. When you had originally told them about your family they didn't believe it. It was a power they'd only seen in movies, so they were immediately starstruck. They didn't ask much about it out of respect for you, but that didn't stop them from ignorantly researching from time to time.
You nodded toward their response. "Right, there's a lot of...bureaucracy within that community. It's almost like it's own governmental body," you awkwardly laughed to yourself for a moment, "a lot of the time, the Japanese government has to speak to us first regarding certain matters." How you spoke of this 'community' made it seem incredibly serious to Seiko, their heart fluttered from the stress of your statement. "Essentially, families involved, certain families, have sorcery that can be and have to be passed down through generations. We all play a part."
You began to recall the moment you were pulled into that room those years ago, a recent graduate of the technical college, newly aged nineteen.
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You came from a lineage of 'imbuers.' With a technique not made for combat, your family's power involved imbuing and maintaining cursed objects; something only your family could do. Though it was not often needed, it was still a critical part in the community, critical enough for your family to be considered a part of one of the 'big three' but not enough to make it the 'big four.' Though this did mean your family had a certain closeness to those three other families: Kamo, Zenin, and Gojo.
You had been called to the Gojo estate after work, it was a job you had recently acquired to keep yourself busy and to gain a sense of independence from your smothering family. Your parents were already there after attending a previous meeting with the head of said clan. You weren't told the subject of the meeting, just that it would be between your parents and the head of the Gojo family. Per usual for these visits, you wore a traditional kimono. It's fabric and tightness noticeably uncomfortable after your long work day. You could think of a thousand different places you'd rather be.
You were lead into one of the smaller rooms toward the back of the estate, your sock feet shuffling along the wood floors. An attendant slid back the shoji door for you to find yourself being the last one to arrive.
Your parents, as well as the head of the Gojo clan and his wife, knelt on one side of a low table, their hands folded in their laps and a formal, somber look on their faces. Notably, their son who was also your age, Satoru Gojo, sat opposite of them with an open spot next to him clearly meant for you. 
He turned his head back to look at you as you entered, black sunglasses perched upon his nose. He had a pearly white smile on his face as he playfully patted the zabuton next to him to which his father gave him a stern look that Satoru ignored. You lightly rolled your eyes and took your assigned place next to him. He, too, was forced to wear a yukata for the formality of such a meeting. 
You cleared your throat and cautiously looked at each of them only to receive no response to your sudden presence other than their intense stares. 
"Um," your voice was mouse-like, "what's going on here? Why...did you all summon us like this?" Satoru's presence was certainly a surprise. Usually these meetings were about an object needing imbued where only the family heads were involved.
You noticed your parents exchanging a nervous glance at one another before looking back at you. Your mother shifted and looked toward her lap as your father took the lead. The head Gojo and his wife kept their stoic expressions.
"We've gathered you here to discuss an important matter," your father's voice almost shook in intimidation, "it concerns the future of our families and our...clans."
"You see," your mother chimed in to give her cautious support, "there has been an...arrangement made between our families." 
Knowing where this was going without needing to be told, Satoru smiled once again and placed his hands behind his head, stretching, in preparation for the big reveal. You gave your mother a look that egged her on, a look of extreme concern. You felt the beating in your chest increase as if your heart had suddenly become a steel hammer.
"It's a marriage proposal, dear," Satoru's mother piped up seriously, her voice regal but still with a hint of warmth. Her husband's stare, however... It was no wonder your parents were intimidated every time the Gojos came around.  
You felt a moment of shock, frustration, and disbelief to what you had just heard. There was no way in this day and age that this was happening. Your mind raced in search of an appropriate way to respond, an appropriate way to reject the idea. It couldn't come to you.
"A marriage proposal, are you serious?" You looked between the four of them with your eyes wide, your adolescence showing through. Your voice was shaky, a tinge of incredulity to it.
"As serious as a heart attack," Satoru sighed happily, still wearing his infuriatingly cheerful smile as if this wasn't a huge deal. He seemed completely at ease with the situation. He was clearly used to these types of 'situations' being from the top family in the realm of jujutsu.
Your father nodded earnestly, "Yes, we are. It's a...proposition that could...solidify the bonds between our clans and...ensure our continued prosperity." That was it...money. They were doing this for money. Your heart felt like it had angrily snapped in two.
"And it's not a decision we've taken lightly, dear. We've thought long and hard about it," your mother's voice was sweet, but what you heard was absolute betrayal falling from her lips. 
Seeing your disbelief, Satoru's father responded with a composed tone of anger. "It is necessary for our clan to produce an heir to keep the balance of society," Satoru's father finally spoke, his aging brow seriously furrowed. "Our son is the last of our name. It is of utmost importance that the Six Eyes as well as Limitless go on and we need to ensure that happens. Especially considering the recent events involving the special grade curse user Geto Suguru." 
Satoru's smile was quickly erased at the mention of his best friend's name. It was something he never wanted to think about again if he could.
You couldn't believe what you were hearing; marrying someone you hardly thought of as a friend, let alone a romantic partner, was unthinkable. The absurdity of it all made you want to laugh but you could tell from the air in the room alone that this was no joke.
"I..." your voice shook as you struggled to maintain your composure, "I can't believe this. We hardly know one another and you expect us to get married?!" 
Satoru, who was leaning on his hands as he sat on his own zabuton, taking things so nonchalantly, leaned forward to capture your attention. It was hard to look away from his bright blue eyes as they carelessly stared at you from behind his black lenses. 
"Look, I know it's unexpected, but maybe it's not so bad, right?" He was trying to play mediator here. He, too, had absolutely no interest in having a wife. He just wanted his family to shut up about it; he'd deal with the consequences of ultimately having no heir later.
You shot him an incredulous look, almost flinching at his words. "Seriously, Gojo? You think this is a good idea?"
He shrugged, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Who knows? We might surprise ourselves. Plus, we've known each other for a long time, right?" 
Since birth, you thought to yourself. He was essentially a childhood best friend that had drifted away in your teen years. At this point, you'd call yourselves acquaintances if anything.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes again at his casual attitude. The weight of the situation bore down on you, and you turned back to your parents. "Can we at least discuss this further? I need some time to think about it."
Just before your sentence ended and your parents had a chance to respond, the head of the Gojo clan answered with a booming voice. "There is no further need for discussion. We have made our decision and the two of you will wed within the year."
You were taken aback by his forceful insistence. It was clear that he was not open to any type of negotiations or delays. The situation had taken a sharp and unexpected turn, and it seemed as though your fate had been sealed without any say in the matter. The days ahead would be filled with uncertainty and apprehension as you faced the reality of an impending marriage to Satoru Gojo, whether you liked it or not.
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Sunshine follows with Sunfall pt.5
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Warnings: Grudges(well deserved)
Series Masterlist
The next few chapters will be posted at random, no longer every Friday. I'm going to take some time to focus on some other wip's of mine.
~☆~
When Jason left your apartment that night, he had left you with his phone number, an address, a key, and a promise to see you again. You shouldn't trust his promises, you know this.
It took three whole days of fighting with yourself to finally call him, ask him if he wanted Judith back in his life. The two of you talked about her for hours that night, you telling him about all of the things he's missed, not just in the past year but also things he missed throughout her whole life.
She likes pink glittery Pancakes, her favorite color is yellow, she likes going to the park because she gets to silently judge people, she loves school(especially her class turtle), she likes being around her family, but only for short period (they can get on her nerves quickly), she's obsessed with Blues clues, but only the older version with Steve (which is why she named the cat Damian had gifted her "Periwinkle"), onetime she had the flu and genuinely thought she was dying, she likes watching her uncles play video games, but she doesn't like playing them.
A lot of things have come up in her transition from four to five.
You didn't end the call without telling him what's on your mind. "I don't want her to love you, just for you to leave again when you can't handle the pressure. I don't want you to leave her heartbroken."
×
"Hey, Jude!"
"Hi, Mommy!"
Judith ran up to you, hugging your legs. An action she does every single time you pick her up from school. "How was your day, baby?"
"Awsome!" She yelled, looking down at a flower in her hand. "I got a present!"
"Aw, that's cute." You wouldn't tell her that her 'flower' was, in fact, a weed. The two of you started walking to your car, hand in hand.
"Momma, help, please.." She smiled as she tried to climb into the back seat. You let out a small chuckle at her behavior. You watched as she buckled her seat belt, waiting to see if she was fully okay before getting into the front seat.
"Now when we get home you're gonna have to take a bath, I have a suprise." You told her, watching as her expression brightened up at your words.
"What kind of suprise?" She pried.
"If I tell you, then it won't be a surprise anymore."
×
Judith excitedly ran through the apartment as soon as you got the door open. Her logic was that the sooner she got ready, the sooner her suprise would happen.
"Sweetheart, the suprise isn't until tonight!" You yelled from the living room.
"I have to plan!" She yelled back. You let out another chuckle and made your way to the bathroom, turning the knobs on the tub so that it's the perfect temperature. "Let's just get you into some pajamas for now!"
×
Let's just say the night came sooner than expected. Judith sat on your bed watching as you did your makeup. "Can I have some Momma?"
You turned to look at her, wide smile on your lips. "Judy, baby, you don't need any."
Despite your words, you still turned to dab a little bit of lip gloss on her lips. It's one that she left on your vanity, blue tube with Cinderella plastered on it. "Thank you, Mommy."
"You're welcome, baby." You turned to look at yourself one last time, letting out a sigh as you deemed yourself okay. "You ready?"
"Yes!"
×
Judith watched wide-eyed out of the window. Jason's apartment wasn't on the side of Gotham that the two of you grew up in and lived together in. It was in between that and near where the Manor and your very own apartment layed.
You parked your car in the garage, letting out another sigh as you finally realized what you were doing.
"Are you okay, Mommy?" Judith asked, concerned look on her small face.
You turned to offer her a smile. "I'm okay."
The two of you hopped out of the car, well, Judith got out with the help of you. And then made your way into the lobby. If you remember correctly, Jason had said that the elevator just started running again. Thankfully, you did remember correctly.
You pushed the button that you needed and let yet another sigh fall from your lips. Judith's hand carefully grasped yours, brung you out of the daze you didn't even know you were in. "It's okay, I don't need a suprise."
Her head turned to look up at you, and you mustered up the best smile you could. "Oh, but you're going to love this."
The elevator finally reached the floor you needed to be on. You and Judith walked down the hallway hand in hand. Hesitantly, you reached in your pocket for the key that Jason had left you, his apartment key. You looked down at Judith's face one more time before you lined up the key and twisted the lock open. As the door opened, Judith peered inside, trying to see what was so special about some apartment. A body coming around the corner made her look up, a lamp casted light on a familiar face.
"Daddy!" Judith screamed. Her little legs ran as fast at they could, just to reach Jason.
"Hey, Sunshine." He smiled, reaching down to engulf her in a hug. One of his hands held her to him, and the other cradled the back of her head, keeping her in place as he pressed kisses to it. The corner of his eyes prickled, preparing for the tears that were rising. Jason stood up with Judith still in his arms, causing a small squeal to escape her, before he took an arm off of her and reached it out for you, welcoming you into their embrace.
"God, I've missed you." He whispered to her, still pressing his face into her hair. "I've missed you so much."
His arms hugged the both of you tighter, trying to lock you into place forever.
Eventually, you pulled your head away to look at both Judith and Jason. Watching as they too slowly pulled away so that they could look at each other.
"Are you hungry?" He asked, voice breaking from the emotions he's experiencing.
"Yeah!" Judith's eyes lit up. Jason let a wet laugh fall from his lips before he carried her into his kitchen. Holding her on a hip as he stirred something in a pot. You followed after them and smiled to yourself, unknowingly to the both of them you also happened to have your phone on you.
A picture of this would be nice.
"Are you hungry, baby?" Jason asked, staring down at the girl in his arms.
"Mhm.." She mumbled, laying her head against his collarbones. Jason gave you a quick glance before walking over to a room that was connected to the kitchen.
His apartment was far different than the one you shared on the "bad" side of Gotham. That apartment was dingy with one bedroom and no space for a kitchen table, leading to many nights of eating on the couch. Most of your furniture there had been hand me downs from Jason's many siblings, but it was your home. When you and Jason split ways, he had moved out and stayed with Roy for a bit before he eventually got himself another apartment where he got even more hand me down furniture.
This apartment was cleaner and more barren, almost like he never spent any time here. But he had the necessities to make it a starter home, a couch, TV, kitchen supplies, and a dining room set.
Despite your dislike for the man you used to love, you are happy for him. He seems healthier, physically and mentally.
"Where do you wanna sit?" He asked, pointing to the four chairs in the dining room.
"Next to you!" Judith yelled, pointing up at her father.
Jason noted that you had followed them into the room and rested upon the door frame. He looked back at you, silently asking if she could. You nodded your head, giving Jason the chance to set her down next to where he was about to sit. He rounded the table and pulled out a chair for you, motioning for you to sit down.
After he scooted you I to place, he retreated back to the kitchen, coming back a second later with a plate for you and Judith. As you looked down, you noticed what it was. The one thing you constantly craved when you were pregnant, and what just so happened to be Judith's favorite food.
"Chicken Alfred!" Judith yelled. No matter how many times you told her the correct pronunciation, she still called it 'Alfred'. It was a miracle that she liked it, no matter how many other pastas you get her to try. This is the one she loves.
Jason smiled down at Judith then walked back to the kitchen, returning with his own plate.
×
After dinner, you helped Jason clean up while Judith sat in the living room watching TV. The two or you worked side by side to do the dishes.
You noticed the glances that Jason would throw at you. After the fifth one, you sighed and put down the plate you were holding.
"What?" You asked, annoyed by his actions.
Jason, too, set down what he was holding. "I just didn't expect you to let her see me." He whispered.
You pursed your lips and thought of what to say. "Just because I have a problem with you doesn't mean she should too." You picked up the plate again and continued to wipe it with a sponge. "This doesn't mean I want you to be in our lives, I just want her to be happy."
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~☆~
My mom makes this bomb homemade chicken Alfredo on my older brothers birthday (sometimes mine as well) and it's so fucking good. We call it "Birthday Alfredo".
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fuxuannie · 10 months
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↳ pairing(s) : (seperate) omen, chamber & jett x gender neutral reader
↳ synopsis : sleep was almost impossible of the three, but with you, it was almost effortless.
↳ authors note : happy pride month!!! :: i think to stop writers block i have to actually start writing of different fandoms,, sorry hsr fans, hello valorant ones (pls exist)
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OMEN didn't really.. need to sleep. He doesn't need most things that humans did actually, and preferred to spend his hours of the night knitting or working on a few plants.
So he didn't really know how to feel about 'falling asleep together', an idea suggested to you after a few months of dating and wanted to be cuddling your partner before falling alseep.
You can imagine how awkward he is when he first gets into bed, how he's unsure on how to put his arms around you in a way that you feel comfortable or even the sensation of being so close to someone for 8 hours. You didn't really mind, just letting him experiment and try to figure out what felt right.
However after a few minutes, oddly enough and almost like a cat, Omen warms up to this feeling. If he could smile, he definitely would be. He's content with the position you both settled with, your back against his chest with his arms and legs over you. You could say he's the big spoon and you're the little spoon, not that it was really surprising considering the shadow man was quite tall.
"You okay?" You'll whisper, looking up at him and watched as he nodded back slightly. "I.. like this feeling." He replies, his voice soft despite the usual hoarse coming from it. "I'm glad." A smile is evident on your expression and that makes Omen happy, his grip around you tightening slightly as you two finally drift off.
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JETT's lack of sleep usually came from how often she wanted to train. Of course, having a best friend like Phoenix always meant wanting to one-up the other person in every single way, and Jett was making sure she remained on top no matter what.
When you expressed your concern for her lack of rest, she briefly brushed it off and said she could handle it because of how often she went days without sleeping.
That didn't make you feel any better.
So here she is, begrudingly laying in bed with you by her side. Jett has her back turned to you, hugging herself as she grumbled every now and then.
"You know, neither of us are going to fall asleep if you act like that."
She can't see you, but the sound of bedsheets shuffling are enough of an indication that you turned to face her. "I know.. that you're not the best with people.. but you can try for me, can't you..?" You asked quietly, almost a whisper, you loved Jett with all your heart and you couldn't dream of ever forcing her to do something ahe didn't want. And so you just waited for an answer.
To your surprise and in a swift move, Jett turns around to wrap her arms around you and pull you close to her. Head resting into the crook of your neck as you're left to be stunned for a few seconds, before beginning to chuckle softly and return the gesture with your own arms engulfing her into a cuddling position.
You hold back a few giggles at how quickly she fell asleep in your embrace.
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CHAMBER was a man who prioritized his own interests above everyone elses, so for many years he had grown used to sleepless nights either for weapon making or business reasons, whichever one he felt like prioritizing first. (Which was always the weapon making.)
At first, he found it cute whenever you tried to stay up with him until he'd grow tired and just go to bed but it didn't last long whenever he saw you tired around HQ and felt guilty for your exhaustion.
The man loves you far too much, so the day after he wanted to try and finally sleep early just so he wouldn't have to see you barely make it through work with 3 hours of rest.
However, with his body so used to staying awake, the French Marksman struggled in finding an ounce of a tired feeling in his body. His mind racing with thoughts of anything else he could be doing at the moment, until he feels you bury yourself closer into him to feel his warmth.
Maybe he was madly inlove, maybe the several hours of sleep he missed was getting to him, but it was like that a single touch from you had him in a sleepy trance.
You're already asleep, just your body naturally wanting to be closer to the man you loved most, but Chamber plants soft and quick kisses on your nose, cheek and lips while whispering a 'Thank you.' after each one. Eventually falling asleep in the comfort of your warmth.
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moosemonstrous · 3 months
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(don't mind me cannibalising my own bits from before 😳)
Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - build your own nightmare
Yegor Ivanov is in charge of security on a large, well-appointed quasi-military base housing twenty thousand people – mostly J-techs and their families, but also a sizeable assortment of soldiers, scientists, medical staff, relief workers and support crew. It’s the most stable job he’s ever had. The general populace is just so grateful for the giant robots he deploys to fight the ever-nastier demons crawling out of the Breach, he barely has to pay any attention to the actual security part of it. His subordinates haven’t reported a single issue they couldn’t deal with themselves in years. His approval makes or breaks people’s careers. He has the respect of the international leaders for keeping Hong Kong off of their priority list. Somehow, in this beautiful, messed up world he managed to carve himself out an existence most people can only dream of. It doesn’t come without its share of headaches, though.
He has been pretty careful in building his strike team. He has the final word on every new ranger. He’s been saddled with a Stark from the very beginning, but while the current one is prone to sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, there is a definite advantage to working with someone who can handwave away what would usually be weeks of financial advisory committees. That seems to be the balance of things – trade a tiresome but overall manageable personality defect for a fantastically useful professional benefit. If nothing else, Yegor is good at dealing with tiresome personalities.
Brooks is barely an effort – military history, some very helpful connections in the underground and, for the defect, as-of-yet undefeated idealism. He can't be trusted with the more... sensitive issues, but tends to stick to the point in meetings, which is why he usually leads on the tactical debrief. This, like most things, backfires as soon as Cho gets involved.
“We’re talking about positioning,” Brooks says. “We’ll get to the hindsight part later.”
“Not if you’re going to point fingers like that. I can’t tell for sure until I get the hide, but drone footage shows the scales opening under pressure, here, let me—"
“Gentlemen,” he interrupts before their argument devolves any further. “Before Mr Reyes loses consciousness, if you please.”
Reyes startles from where he’s been daydreaming in his seat at the table. Every now and then, when the light hits just right, his damaged eye seems to reflect it, like some sort of a nocturnal animal. Like he doesn't give Yegor enough creeps as it is.
There are vanishingly few advantages to having Reyes on the team, but Yegor only has himself to blame for this. Most of the old guard making decisions around Hell Charger’s fate ten years ago have either died or retired into obscurity; other than himself, there is scarcely anyone left to confirm whether the similarities he’s seeing are truly there or just a product of his imagination. Even the way he shreds the label off the bottle of water in his hands, a perfectly common nervous tick, or the way he fidgets like he can’t wait for the meeting to be over – everything is just a little too close.
Not to mention his uncanny overnight progress with martial arts. Or the way he used the chain to choke out a Cat-4 demon. The chain that, as far as anyone can tell, he never had any training with.
Eli was always so fond of his garrotte.
“Sorry,” Reyes mutters, and looks at the wrapper confetti in his hands like he’s only just noticed it.
“As I was saying,” Brooks shoots Cho an impatient glance, but if Cho can be relied on for anything, it is to switch his focus to the weirdest thing in the room and Reyes certainly matches that description. “The last three attacks confirm we need to shorten our approach time. The demons are clearly prioritising civilian targets over a head-on fight with the closest hostile. The jaegers were too spread out, and until the core replacement program gets going we don’t have the speed advantage.”
“I get that,” says Danvers. “But what you’re proposing gives us very little space to react without running into land.”
“Where the jaegers outperform a demon every time,” Brooks points out. “As proven yesterday – even a rookie like Reyes can catch one when the water only goes up to your knees.”
Yegor didn’t truly believe all of his problems would be solved by putting the kid directly in a line of fire, but some part of him is still disappointed. It’s like the universe conspires to ensure at least one Reyes is always a thorn in his ass, and removing it risks perforating a goddamn artery. On one hand, Razorback slithering right past Eden Assassin and making a beeline for the coast is certainly bad news – Yegor has by now learned not to underestimate it when the beasts develop new strategies. On the other, he can’t pretend he wasn’t hoping it will make a short work of Hell Charger before the others caught up to her. On one hand, he’s sure to get the credit for taking a risk on a new ranger and saving Taipei. On the other, the new ranger has so far evaded several ways his removal could be considered innocuous and if Yegor gets any more direct in his approach, someone will notice. Cho has already made him his new fixation, and Stark is like a dog with a bone – it was a mistake to play the hardass card with him to start with. He’s less likely to be helpful now that he’s fallen for the sad orphan routine. Yegor has been making too many mistakes around Reyes, and that on its own is also familiar.
“We have to run this by other Shatterdomes before implementation,” he says, mainly to head off further squabbling. He nods at Brooks. “Work with Reyes on his ability to follow a direct order until we get a confirmation.”
“That’s unfair,” Cho rallies to his pet project’s defence again. “What was he supposed to do, let that thing hit the pier?”
Amadeus Cho is a thorn all of his own. Yegor stopped worrying about him months ago, when it became clear that there was indeed nothing tying him to Banner’s untimely demise. This much interest in not just The Charger but her pilots, though... “Mr Reyes is present to defend his choices, if he so wishes.”
He could, too. Any ranger at the table would likely do the same thing – throw themselves at the danger instead of staying clear of it when told, like a functional human being. If either Yegor or Brooks were to really press the matter, at least one of the pilots would acknowledge it, and he isn’t looking to initiate any feelings of solidarity. Of course, in this one thing Reyes is more obviously like his father than like his uncle – he doesn’t run his mouth at every opportunity. If he spoke up, Danvers or Summers would try to assert their dominance, which would inevitably lead to an argument with the twins, who have been keen on preserving their lone agent status despite the circumstances. Yegor could use the resulting hurt feelings without looking like he has a stake in the game beyond what can be expected. Instead, Reyes merely shakes his head, further convincing everyone that he’s a harmless newbie rather than–
What is this kid, exactly? More than a liability – he’s a threat. Yegor panicked once already, hoping to engineer a tragic accident, and only ended up making the problem worse. He needs to keep a cool head about this. Reach out to Chau, maybe, see if he’s noticed any mutilated bodies showing up on the island. Refresh the surveillance kit so he doesn’t have to rely on Barton for everything. And put a better face on meanwhile – Hell Charger stopped Razorback from barging right into the coast, where it would’ve decimated the ground troops in a blink of an eye. The press is going to want in on the new hero, which will only make the whole situation that much more complicated. You can’t quietly remove someone whose mug is on every news report for a week.
Yegor doesn’t buy for a second that Reyes turned back up in Hong Kong after a decade purely by accident. Not when he’s clearly trained in all of Eli’s favourite moves. Not when he isn’t asking any of the obvious questions, like he already knows what the answers are.
Not when his mask slips sometimes, and he looks at Yegor like he’s only delaying the inevitable to watch him squirm.
##
(in the highly probable event this doesn't come across clearly, Razorback managed to slip past the jaegers and would've hit a beach if Robbie didn't react. He was ordered not to engage, bc that was the agreed tactic and the others were only minutes away. For ~some reason~ he decided to catch himself a demon instead.)
(yes it is my experience that 90% of any major operations is meetings that could've been a quarter of the time if people stuck to the point, Amadeus would be my enemy at work. I've also cut out his entire aside about ecological impact of trying to curtail urban run-off so that will probably show up elsewhere in a good time)
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xticklemeemox · 3 months
Text
The Love You Want: II: Part Two
Masterlist
The Love You Want: I
The Love You Want: II, part one
The Love You Want: II, part three
Link to AO3 version
Word Count: 11,289
Tags: Self-harm, suicide, pining, vomit, religious themes, eye horror I guess?, if anything else, lemme know <3
I'm not terribly happy with it but i've been staring at it for far too long sooooo
Fic under the cut <3
After their talk of the bond, Vessel leaves II to shower and have some time to himself, and they don't see each other for the rest of the day. II assumes that they just haven't crossed paths, but it becomes clear when the next day is the same, and the day after that, that Vessel is avoiding him.
He can't stop the hurt at the realization, and goes to look for Vessel to ask why. To ask if he's done something to upset the other man. He isn't in his room, or the kitchen. Not the living room, or the practice room where II finally sees the drumset sitting in the corner. He doesn't stop to look at it, a little worried now as Vessel still hasn't shown up anywhere. There is nothing but calm over their bond, but that doesn't reassure II in the slightest, having seen Vessel's physical distress while the bond projected nothing but peace. The other man has clearly figured out how to hide his own emotions, and II starts looking a bit more frantically.
Its as II is looking around outside the manor that he feels it, the bond clicking off entirely. The emptiness swallows him whole.
Panicked, II calls out for Sleep's help as he goes back inside. "Sleep, where is he? Please, I- I can't leave him like this."
"The first is in no danger. He is in the bathroom, hiding, sick." The God replies in confusion, "Doing as he always does."
"What does that even mean?!" II replies, heading for the restroom that is in the back of the house.
He hears a single sob, and he would feel more embarrassed for the frantic knocking on the bathroom door if he hadn't heard the choked retching that followed.
"Vessel, are you alright in there? I- I felt you shut off the bond and got worried."
Worried does not begin to cover it. Such a simple word could never describe the agony of Vessel's presence just- disappearing. But II told him he could turn the bond off whenever he wished, and he isn't going to go back on that now, even when he still isn't sure that Vessel is even al-
"I'm okay."
It's small, and shaky, but Vessel's voice floods II with relief, just knowing he really was in that bathroom.
"I know you're not. Vessel, please, don't lie to me. Let me help you."
"No! You- You can't see me like this. You'll hate me, I'm already ugly, please- Please, II, just go away!" He begs, and II's heart shatters at his feet at the fear, the desperation in the other man's voice.
"I would never think you ugly, and I'm not leaving you Vessel. I'll stay here until you come out yourself." II turns to sit against the door of the bathroom, resolved to sit and wait as long as he needs to.
He refuses to leave Vessel to wither away in his sadness alone. Try as he might to omit it from the bond now, II felt it clear as day and he is never going to leave Vessel to deal with such misery alone if he can help it.
II sits there for hours, mask pulled up to expose his mouth, tapping out a beat on his thighs while he waits. Vessel had gone silent, but every once in a while, II is able to feel his presence move closer, then, once realizing II was still there, move away, the bond unable to hide that from him, at least. At some point, II begins talking about the music he enjoys, R&B and Pop, then explains in further detail how he got Elvira and all the ways she's gotten herself into trouble over the years. The cat herself comes and go's as she pleases, never staying for long.
Vessel never says anything, never makes a sound except for the disgusting noise of vomiting into the toilet. At one point, II is sure he heard the other man crying but its so faint, II isn't sure he heard right. Sleep leaves them alone, and II doesn't bother the God. They clearly thought nothing was wrong.
"Vessel, please let me in." II tries again, "Nothing I see will make me hate you. I could never hate you. I promise, please, I just want to help. I don't want you to shut me out."
There is no answer for awhile, and II is sure he will have to continue to sit and wait. Then, the vines on the walls quiver, and II hears a click. The lock has been turned. Standing quickly, he tries the doorknob and it turns in his hand easily. Breathing a sigh of relief, II opens the door and if his heart hadn't already shattered at his feet, it would've at the sight before him.
Vessel is kneeled over the toilet, black sludge dripping from his lips and splattered in the bowl. His mask is lain at his feet, face on full display, but it looks... different. It is white, line the other one, and yet the design is different. Where once there were two eye holes, now six sit, more slitted than the other mask and painted over by Sleep's sigil in a blood red. His hoodie is nowhere to be seen, only a simple black t-shirt and jeans.
There's blood everywhere, smeared over his mouth and along his cheek, small puddles and droplets on the floor, and a knife on the counter. Golden tears drip down his face from three pairs of eyes, all of them scrunched in pain. Two of them, the middle and bottom pair that sit below his usual set, smaller with each pair, bleed black like blood that mixes with the gold. The edges of those two pairs are red and irritated, any bloodshot veins invisible due to the black sclera. His arms are bleeding, just barely noticeable on the black of his arms that goes up past his elbow where tendrils of ink disappear into the sleeve of his t-shirt.
Eyebrows furrowed, Vessel's entire face is creased in pain, in terror. Vessel has heavy eyebags and dark circles, and the saddest eyes II has ever seen. There is no life in them, no spark, an empty void. There is no will to live.
When II sees him, the bond opens like a floodgate and the shorter man is struck with the sheer intensity of the emotions on Vessel's face, but also his self-loathing, his sadness. II moves quickly, too quickly by the harsh jerk back Vessel does to get away, the fear heightening along with the strangeness of expectation. Expectation for what, II is scared to know so he stops moving entirely. He focuses instead on keeping his end of the bond as calm as possible, trying not to overwhelm Vessel.
Vessel can't meet his eyes, though its clear he's trying to force himself to, and II is quick to reassure him its not necessary. II pulls up his mask to bare his lips and lower jaw, tries to keep a smile on his face, to reassure the other man, but it threatens to slip with every tear that falls from Vessel's eyes, every fearful glance at II's hands. Its breaking II's heart to see him like this. There is also anger, a small thing that II can't allow to grow right now for fear of Vessel thinking it was directed at him. If II ever meets whoever did this to Vessel he'd kill them. He swears it. Swears it on his soul itself, with the wrath of this life and every one after.
II hasn't known Vessel long, but II knows, without a shadow of a doubt that he deserved the world, that he didn't deserve whatever abuse made him this way.
He didn't deserve to feel so lowly about himself he actively cuts into his own arms.
"I'm sorry." Its strange to hear Vessel's voice without the barrier of the mask that muffled it a bit.
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Ves, its okay. Its okay." Reaching forward, slower now and giving Vessel ample time to pull away, II takes one hand in his as Vessel lurches forward to puke into the toilet again.
His dark hair falls over his face, and II shuffles as close as he dares, using his available hand to pull it away and hold the soft, messy strands at Vessel's nape gently.
When that wave of vomiting is over, II asks in as gentle of a tone as he can, "Can I clean up your arms? You're still bleeding."
Vessel doesn't want to admit that he wants it to hurt longer, that he feels he deserves the pain. He used a power that wasn't his to use, and now he has two more pairs of fucking eyes. If Vessel wasn't ugly before, he certainly is now. He deserves the hurt, the pain, every moment of it. He would rather pull his own teeth out than admit any of this to II, who's had unshed tears in his eyes ever since he first laid eyes on Vessel's pathetic form.
He nods, and hopes the cleanup hurts. Can't wait for II to leave him alone so he can add more.
II gets out the medkit and silently laments having to use it so soon. It was only for emergencies, but II has the worst feeling that its something they'll need to stock up regularly.
He knows the antiseptic stings, and II can't stop the tears that shed as Vessel doesn't wince, doesn't make a sound, can't stop them when he feels so many more cuts than he saw before, not to mention the multitude of scars that are a darker shade of grey that he can barely see. II knows that if he hadn't gotten this close of a look, it would have taken ages to see, to notice, and it hurts that without this bond, he might never have known about the self-harm at all.
'Thank you, Sleep. I- I know I've only just met him, barely spent much time with him, but- Vessel- this bond, I can help him now, if he'll continue to let me. Thank you.' II directs his thoughts to Sleep's presence, hoping the God can hear him.
The answering brush against his mind, returned gratitude sent down the bond he shares with the God by simply being a vessel, tells him more than any words. Sleep did this on purpose, this bond between he and Vessel, bringing them together.
II wraps gauze around Vessel's arms, thankful that it wasn't his entire forearm this time, unlike where his scars tell him he's cut before. "Let's get you into bed. It's my turn to take care of you."
"No, no- you've done enough, please, I'm fine. I can make it back to my room on my own. I can take care of myself, II." Vessel tries to be stern, but he's still crying, voice broken and hoarse.
He stands, the bond slamming shut, feeling like its crashed down on II's beating heart instead of simply locking away Vessel's emotions, and II follows, trying to reason with him and keep his frustration well away from the bond. "Vessel, you're sick, let me help you."
Arms held out to catch him if he starts to fall, II follows behind Vessel as the other man stumbles out of the bathroom. He bumps into the wall, then the first step of the staircase after feeling his way to the steps with the banister pillars.
"I don't need help, I'm fine, II. I know how to take care of myself, I swear." Vessel stumbles, one hand on the rail and the other trying to shield his eyes. He misses a step and II winces at the sound of his knee crashing into the hard wood. Vessel doesn't stop, feeling his way up the steps now, the vines along the walls, baseboards, and banister reaching out and brushing his hands as he goes. His tears are leaving splotches of gold on his shirt and the steps.
II has had just about enough of this, trying his hardest to keep his voice level, to not raise it in his frustration, "You shouldn't have to take care of yourself all of the time, even if you know how! I want you to rely on me, I want to be someone you can trust."
It starts as a buzz of pain over the bond. As Vessel gets more upset, it heightens, the door of his mind creaking open with every passing moment, leaving more and more of his emotions bared for II again. Vessel wants to lay down and never wake up. Anything to get away from this.
"It's not that easy." Vessel moans, nearly to the top of the stairs now.
When II moves to help him stand, he jerks back as though burned and II frowns, devastated at this entire situation, "Why isn't it? I want to help you Vessel, but I can't if you don't let me in."
Vessel sobs, stopping just in the upstairs sitting room, pillowing his head on his arms. He doesn't know how to let II in, is scared to try, to want to try. Vessel has never been cared for, he doesn't know how to let himself be cared for. Ever since II got here, everything Vessel knew about himself and how he expected to be treated has been upended.
'My vessel, you asked to be loved.'
'What does that have to do with anything!?' He cries, frustration like a hurricane inside him, trying so, so hard not to crush into sand at the force.
II crouches beside him, gentle hands lifting him up though Vessel doesn't make it easy, dead weight dragging him down, but II is strong, almost- almost too strong to be normal.
'Let him love you.'
'He doesn't even know me! Once he sees- sees how broken I am he will leave.'
'My vessel, has he left yet?'
'No.' Vessel's voice is small as II leads them down the hallway to Vessel's room, holding most of his weight as Vessel sobs silently, his head aching like a battering ram was slamming against it. 'He saw my cuts- my new eyes. He- II saw me, behind my mask.'
'He did not leave you, and he won't. You have to trust him.'
'I trusted my parents to take care of me, my God. They did not. I trusted who I thought were friends, and they only cared about what I could do for them. I trusted each and every one of my partners and they all broke me into fractions that can never be repaired.'
'Do you think I would have chosen a vessel that would treat you wrong? You are my First, my dearest Vessel. I do not understand your human emotions, and even less the pain the species on your planet feel, but I would never choose to bring another human who I thought would hurt you. Let the second in, my vessel, and if he breaks you like the other humans in your life, I will break him in return. There will be no coming back from the damage I will inflict.'
II helps Vessel lay down, going to grab a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. Vessel opens his eyes, squinting at the pain the action causes, at all the information overloading his brain. He can't see, can't process anything around him and his brain is melting- its going to melt right out of his ears-
Vessel's chest heaves and he chokes out a broken sob, suddenly so desperate not to be alone, but doesn't know how to ask. "II? I- I can't see you."
"What?" II is at his side in an instant, clothes tossed beside him on the bed.
With careful, slow movements, II takes his hands in his, "These eyes." Vessel sobs, "They're new. I- its like having triple vision- so much information, my brain, I can't think- it hurts. I can't see anything."
"It's alright Vessel, I'm sure its only temporary. Sleep wouldn't give you something you couldn't heal from. I'll be right back, I'm just going to get something to clean you up."
"Sleep didn't give me these. They said I gave them to myself." Vessel remarks quietly, wiping at his tears with the back of his hand.
It smears gold with the blood still on his face. All six eyes are closed now, Vessel giving up trying to see past the squinting, and golden tears clump his dark eyelashes together as they brush his cheeks. He truly is beautiful, II thinks. His voice, his visage, otherworldly almost, with the six eyes. He looks nothing less than a vessel for the divine, as tear stained, bandaged, and despaired as he is.
"They- You gave them to yourself?" II pauses at the door, not understanding, his confusion passing freely through the bond.
"Not on purpose. I- I used one of their powers that wasn't given to me at my creation, and apparently caused more of Sleep's essence to become entwined with mine, which led to more of their features." Vessel explains, a resigned expression on his face, but he doesn't regret it, not using his Gods power at least.
Not if it meant II was in far less pain.
II isn't sure what to say, so instead offers a reassuring smile and the sentiment that he'll be right back. He works quickly to grab cloths to wipe off Vessel's face, a plastic bag for him to puke in, and picks up his mask from the bathroom floor. It's heavy in his hands, but not from the weight. How much has Vessel hidden from him with this on? The man's face is an open book without it, though II can see he tries so hard to hide what he's feeling, but can't manage it like he can their bond.
II holds the mask to his chest carefully, like it will shatter if he even looks at it wrong. The surface is smooth and clean except for the designs, and II wonders if that is a testament to the sturdiness of the material or Vessel's care of it.
When he gets back to Vessel's room, the other man has sat up, shirt off and exposing his upper torso, and it seems he managed to get half into the pajama pants, though they sit barely above the knee and he looks as though he wants to collapse back onto the bed. There are tree-like markings, swirls and branches, like the ones on their arms, that reach over his shoulders and rest along his collarbones, with a few very small leaves, almost like the bough of a tree. Along his ribs, weaving between the bones, are branches that reach around from his back. A small sigil, like the one on the wall of the altar room and marks his mask, sits in the hollow of his neck, blood red like his eyes.
There are scars on both arms, but the ones on his thighs, and peeking over the waistband of his boxers are far more noticeable, thinner than the ones on his arms but stretching along the length of his hips. II tries not to stare, but he lets his sadness pass over the bond without restraint, painting a smile on his face.
"Do you need help getting dressed?"
Vessel's ears redden in embarrassment and the way his blush spreads over his cheeks and a little of his bottom pair of eyes is very cute. It's just- even as he blushes so prettily there's this air of hesitancy, of misery and shame. So much shame.
"Yes, please."
As II helps Vessel pull his pants over his hips, he tries his hardest not to let them brush against his scars. It does not reassure Vessel like he hopes. "I know they're disgusting..."
As close as he is to the other man, Vessel's whisper is heard clearly and II's heart has already been broken so many times today, but it can clearly be broken at least once more. He'll never be able to pick up the pieces at this rate.
"They're not ugly, Vessel. Your scars have never, and will never, disgust or even bother me in any way. They just- they make me sad, and I thought you might not want me to touch them is all."
Slipping the shirt over Vessel's head with a little difficulty, even as the other man tries to help, Vessel continues, sounding more and more upset again, "I don't understand why you are doing any of this, or why you never ask me to- to be quiet, to talk more, or demand I show my face. You're nothing like I expected. I don't understand you."
"I care about you, Vessel. It is that simple." II aims for soothing, but he knows that no matter how many times he says it, Vessel may never believe him.
"No one ever cared before you! I don't- II, I don't know how to handle you. You're so kind to me, I've never had anyone- please, tell me how to act. How do you want me? I can be silent, I- I can stay out of your way if you're in the room. You'll never even see me if that's what you want. I know how to be happy- or lifeless like a doll, if that's what you prefer. Just- please, I don't know what to do. You're always offering to help me with things or are so considerate of what I'm feeling, or might feel. I don't understand." Vessel cries and II wants to sob, to hold Vessel tightly in his arms and never let go.
Who destroyed this man so completely that he'd change his entire being just to please II?
"Can I hug you?" II asks, and is dejected when Vessel says no, so quickly II is almost shocked, but he accepts the answer and moves on, asking if he can hold his hands instead, to which Vessel nods.
"You don't need to change yourself for me. I want you exactly as you are, as yourself, no matter the circumstance."
"No one's ever wanted just me." Vessel whimpers, tightening his hold on II's hands. "I was never enough, I had to be exactly what they wanted for them to stay."
"Well, they were idiots who deserve to rot for the rest of eternity. You deserve to be yourself, to be loved and cared for as you are." II replies firmly, voice leaving no room for question, brows slightly furrowed under the mask.
It startles a laugh out of Vessel, a quiet huff of air and a small quirk of the lips that leaves II reeling at the majesty of such a small action. In a desperate bid to keep some control, II ignores how his admiration flows over the bond and causes Vessel's cheeks and ears to tinge red again, "You mind if I clean you up?"
The blushes on their faces deepen further, but Vessel seems to be thinking something over before finally coming to a decision and nods. II refuses to give thought to the way he misses Vessel's hand in his own as he pulls one away to work. The blood and tears come off with only a little, light scrubbing with a damp cloth. Vessel is unnaturally warm under his hands, which is unusual since II remembers he is usually quite cool to the touch. He is shivering as II hands him his mask. As it is handed over, it flickers, going translucent and back to solid repeatedly. Placing it on his face, the mask settles on a form that bares his mouth. Vessel cannot see it, but can feel the difference.
"Why did-" II starts, but stops as Vessel shakes his head slightly.
"Sleep told me it could do this, though this version of my mask is unfamiliar to me. I just- was too afraid to show you any part of me longer than a glance. I... I am still afraid." Vessel admits, keeping his eyes low.
Despite the words saddening II, it also gives him a little hope. Already, Vessel has opened up more to him. He supposes seeing someone at their worst means there is little reason to hide all the time.
II hums, helping Vessel lay down. He collapses into the only pillow on the bed, weak. Its time to repay Vessel the favor of caring for him while sick, though II wishes the other man didn't have to deal with any of this at all.
He wonders if it is related to the new eyes, or something else entirely. Wonders what Vessel did to gain them.
"It is okay to be afraid. Everyone is afraid sometimes, has something they're afraid of."
"I'm afraid of so many things that I fear you will give up on me once you see how truly weak I am." Vessel admits quietly, squinting up at II through blurry eyes that shoot pain through his skull every few moments.
"I will never give up on you." II states firmly, "Whenever you're afraid, you can come to me. I'll be there for you, Vessel, no matter what."
"I fear being a burden, so deeply that I ache with it constantly." Vessel sounds as though he's speaking through gritted teeth, like the words were being forced out of him, and II knows it must be hard for him to open up like this, but he appreciates it.
"Will you feel better if I burden you in return then?"
"You could never burde-"
"Let me finish, Ves." II admonishes gently, and is surprised that Vessel's answering flinch is small and not outright jerking away from II.
"I have nightmares of my death. It haunts me almost every night since I woke up from my transformation. When I wake, I can't stop shaking, can't stop crying until exhaustion kicks in. Can I come to you and keep you company whenever I have a nightmare?"
It's a lot to ask, II knows, when the other man is so adverse to touch that isn't holding hands, but II knows how to keep his hands to himself when it really matters. And he really does want comfort, desperately, when he wakes up and can still feel his lungs filling with blood, feel how it burns his throat and bubbles past his lips and can still remember the exact foggy blue of the sky above him as-
"II! II, its okay! Shit, I don't know how to comfort others..." There's a hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears under his eyes and seeping into his mask with gentle claws.
A soft, raspy humming fills the room as Vessel struggles to calm down the second vessel through a throat thick with tar.
II comes back to himself, leaning imperceptibly into the cool skin of Vessel's hands, though the other man still sweats and shakes with a fever.
"I'm sorry." II apologizes, feeling bad for getting lost in his own head when Vessel is suffering right now.
"If..." Vessel hesitates before steeling his resolve, even as his fingers tremble where it still rests on II's cheek, "If I cannot apologize for- for my reactions to things, then you cannot apologize for yours either."
II chuckles, leaning into Vessel's hand just a little bit more. "I suppose we'll work on our communication then."
"Your communication skills are- far, far above my own." Vessel says, and II lets his gaze linger on the other man's lips as he smiles.
The angel bites add to the pretty curve of Vessel's lips, and II forces himself to look away, lest his gaze lingers too long on his first real, non-delirious look at Vessel's smile, tired as it is. "I'll leave you to get some rest." II says, finally, after a few silent moments of just... existing with the other man.
II very carefully removes Vessel's hand from his cheek, bringing it up to his mouth in a not-quite kiss then places it gently down on the bed. As he goes to leave, that same hand blindly waves around trying to find any part of II he can grab.
"Can- can you stay here tonight?" Vessel's voice is small, hesitant, expecting outright rejection, "Y-you don't have to!"
His bond radiates hope, and who is II to kill it?
"I'd like that actually." II admits, "It hasn't been fun waking up alone with the taste of iron in my mouth and the phantom sensation of struggling to breathe through blood-filled lungs."
Vessel frowns, wishing there was some way he could help. He wonders if his new ability to put people to sleep means he could also influence the dreams they have.
II goes to get his pillow and figure out where Elvira has made off to, promising Vessel that he would come back. Even with that promise, II tries not to stay away long. As sad as it is, it is also endearing at how hopefully eager Vessel looked when II said he would be back soon.
If by some miracle from their God, II ever comes across the people who did this to Vessel, he's going to curb-stomp their fucking faces in.
The thought of violence on Vessel's behalf causes a stream of encouragement from Sleep. II lets out a small laugh as he changes into pajamas quickly. He picks up Elvira and squishes his pillow and blanket into his other arm as he makes his way back to Vessel's room. At least he and Sleep are in agreement on that regard.
Vessel lays in the same spot II left him, one arm slung over his eyes while the other rests at his side where II set it down. "Are you alright?" II asks, quiet, so as to not startle the ailing man.
"Head hurts." Vessel mutters, not moving an inch.
After II sets his things down on the other side of the bed, he lays a hand on Vessel's cheek, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, frowning at the temperature. "I'll go get some medicine from the store tomorrow. Try- try to rest your eyes and mind as much as you can."
Nodding minutely, Vessel says nothing, mouth pulled into a grimace as tears leak down his cheeks where his arm doesn't cover all of his eyes. II climbs into bed, pulling the blanket over both of them and holding Vessel's hand tightly, rubbing soothing circles on the top. Isn't there anything II could do for him?
II eventually falls asleep after hours of laying awake, speaking quietly to Vessel about anything he could think of, explaining the intricacies of drumming and all the little things he personally implements into his playstyle. He struggles valiantly to keep his eyes open, and when Vessel's eyes could handle it, he would watch, endeared as II's pretty blues (so much brighter now that his sclera have turned black like Vessel's) would flutter, trying to stay awake. The bond between them remains filled with II's contentment and worry, leaving no room for doubt in Vessel's mind that the man wants to be here beside him, is worried for him.
Vessel doesn't deserve II, he knows he doesn't, but he wants him to stick around, to stay here, as a vessel, with him. He hates how quickly he is becoming attached, hopes he isn't driving II away by letting himself loosen his leash on his own self. Vessel was always too much and never enough. Always.
II wakes once during the night, nearing daybreak, and Vessel somehow knows its going to happen. He thrashes underneath the blanket, as though fighting off an invisible attacker. Vessel is as alert as he can be instantly, holding II's hand and speaking in a low, calming voice. The bond is ravaged with distress and fear, so much fear its choking Vessel's lungs with its potency, his own worry and distress skyrocketing. He immediately locks his own emotions behind the door of his mind tightly. The last thing II needs is Vessel's own emotions to overwhelm him.
"You're safe II. We're at the manor, in my room. Elvira is at the foot of the bed, staring in contempt at being woken up. The sun is going to rise soon." Vessel repeats in between gentle humming of a random tune for what feels like the longest two minutes he's ever experienced, no matter how his voice strains under his sore throat and his head screams at him to shut his eyes, though no light enters the room.
II shoots up, gasping as a sob rips out of his throat, free hand pressed firmly to his chest as though he was still bleeding out. "Vessel?" He asks quietly, crystal tears with flecks of gold trailing down his cheeks, blue eyes glimmering. "You're here?"
"I'm here. You're safe, II. I will never let anyone hurt you ever again." Vessel reaches up one hand to gently card his fingers through the sweaty mess of II's hair.
II holds Vessel's hand tightly, like a lifeline, broken sobs leaving his lips in loud gasps and cries. His touch is cold, but II couldn't ask for anything more. The simple action helps ground II, listening intently to Vessel's stumbling, soothing reassurances, focusing on calming his breathing. With their masks lain to the side, Vessel is easily able to wipe II's tears with a cold touch that sends shivers down II's spine.
"Thank you." II says finally, after an undetermined amount of time just sitting in each others presence as II calmed down.
Vessel smiles a small thing, a mere quirk of his lips, but his sincerity is felt in II's bones as he says a simple, "Anytime."
II smiles back tiredly, exhausted but almost unwilling to go back to sleep. II lays back down, so Vessel follows. The blanket is pulled over both of them, and for a time there is only the soft snoring of Elvira at their feet and Vessel's wheezing, labored breathing. They lay side by side, arms pressed against each other, and II turns his head to find Vessel already looking at him. Vessel blushes, a pretty pink overtaking his face, and looks away quickly. "Can I hold your hand?" II asks, and Vessel agrees after a moment of hesitation.
If II knew to pay attention, he would feel the lack of heartbeat. Yet, he did not know better, none of them will until the reality of just how far Vessel would go to be loved crashes down on them in the worst way imaginable. For now, Vessel will limit contact, no matter how he craves it, a hunger he can't control but one he knows to ignore. He has had years of practice in ignoring his longing for affection. How was he to know that II would crumble those walls with a glance and a pretty little single-dimpled smile. That others would come and worm their ways into his chest where his heart used to rest and make a home.
II's hand in warm in Vessel's own, wrists not quite pressed together. Vessel wishes he could touch more of II, even if it was through clothes. Maybe he'll take to wearing more long sleeves or his hoodie more often, just to be able to hold II a little closer like that again, if the other man allows it. It would help to hide the cuts and scars that would surely be added onto as soon as Vessel gets the chance.
"Can I lean my head on your shoulder?" II whispers in a breath Vessel barely heard.
Vessel's breath catches in his throat, and if his heart were in his chest it would be pounding like a jackhammer. As it is, the vines in the house shudder once, twice, for the seconds it takes for Vessel to answer with a breathy 'yes' barely louder than II's question, a rattling cough following the action as his lungs strain from that brief moment of less oxygen.
The careful weight of II's head against Vessel's clothed shoulder sends Vessel reeling at the intimacy of such a simple action, almost overwhelmed by the joy that stemmed from II's side of the bond. He knows that it is not much different from them already holding hands, but it feels like Vessel has just leaped off a cliff into frigid ocean waters. He can't remember when any of his partners would do something like this except in the beginnings of the relationship, let alone ask in the first place. Vessel was easy to take from, desperate for love and offering his heart up on a silver platter to anyone who showed him the smallest amount of care, and everyone in his life took and took until there was so little of him left but a broken shell of a man full of love that was never for himself. As it stands, offering his heart up this final time, to a God who offered him anything he desired in return, was the right thing to do if only just because Vessel has been gifted this moment.
"Is this okay?" II asks, keeping to their low volume, and sensing Vessel's unease, but also his elation.
"Yes, yes, its fine." Vessels breathes out, afraid anything louder will ruin the moment.
II falls asleep eventually, breaths evening out and face slackening into peace. Elvira has come to lay on Vessel's legs, a purring rumble filling the air as she kneeds his legs through the blanket.
Vessel is... calm. His mind still runs a mile a minute but he is so focused on the feeling of II so close, the warmth of his touch, that at some point, without his notice, Vessel is lulled into as close to sleep as he can get, listening intently to II's breathing.
::
The next day is much the same as the first, Vessel struggling to see through the pain in his head and the bleariness in his eyes, choking on black sludge that tastes worse than anything else he has ever eaten.
II, having stayed with him for most of the day after waking up, comes back after eating lunch to tell Vessel he was heading to the store for pain medication and some other things he hopes would help Vessel feel better.
"'M going." Vessel insists despite II's protests that he needs to stay and rest.
He crawls out of bed, blinking blearily and crumbles to the floor. Tears prick his eyes, but he refuses to let them fall. His head aches so terribly, but he has to go with II. He has to.
"Vessel, I really think its better if you stay." II attempts to persuade him, taking Vessel's bicep and elbow to help him stand.
"Don't wanna be 'lone." Vessel manages to get out, and II's gaze softens, eyes squinting up a bit, and he relents.
Grabbing the keys, II wraps a blanket around Vessel's shoulders and stuffs his pillow in his arms. Vessel clutches it to his chest, blinking blearily as II puts his mask on his face after adjusting his own so its sits properly. Vessel feels useless, but II won't even let him get a word of protest in, simply shushing him gently, as II helps him navigate the stairs.
Maybe he should have stayed at the house, Vessel thinks, as II manages to stop Vessel from tumbling down the staircase halfway down. He'd feel like less of a burden that way, surely. Already his anxiety is through the roof but he thinks if he tells II to go ahead without him, his anxiety will just build and build until he absolutely has to cut into himself to ease it. Vessel desperately doesn't want II to find him doing that again, as inevitable as he knows it is.
When II finally gets them outside, he sighs as quietly as he can manage, worried that Vessel's legs will give out before they can make it to the car. There is a push from Sleep to look around himself, so he does, and what he sees surprises him. There is a road leading into the forest, each side marked by a white ribbon tied to a low hanging branch of the trees beside it. II and Vessel make their way slowly down it, autumn leaves crunching underfoot. II keeps an eye on Vessel the whole way, admiring how the fractals of light from between the canopies above shine down upon the others unruly hair, creating patterns of yellow, gold, and orange.
Vessel is breathtaking, even sick and stumbling like a drunk man.
II finds that the road cuts the time it would usually take to get to the car in half, to only thirty minutes. A prayer is sent to Sleep in thanks, the God having already done so much more than asked. Vessel leans lightly against him, but every move to try and hold him better leads to Vessel pulling away.
Within minutes of reaching the rundown vehicle, Vessel is sitting curled up in the passenger seat, as much as a man of his size can, with a blanket spread over his lap, and mask held uncomfortably on his face as it is buried under his bedroom pillow to block out light. An unused plastic grocery bag sits at his feet in case he needs to throw up. II keeps one hand holding Vessel's as he drives, the only sound the hum of the car and the low thrum of whatever CD he has picked out. Vessel is thankful that his migraines are made worse by light, and not sound, as thankful as one can be out and about in full daylight. It is both hilarious and sad how far II has to adjust the seat forward so he can reach the pedals, and Vessel holds back a laugh at the sight.
When the car stops, II leaves the car running, the music playing. Promising to be back as quickly as he can, II locks the doors and heads inside the store with a heavy heart and moving like fire were at his heels.
Passing the home decor section, II has a sudden thought, uncaring of the stares he is getting for the mask. II has always brought attention on himself with his alternative clothing and piercings, getting stared at is nothing out of the ordinary, he remembers.
'Sleep, are we going to have issues with light forever? It hurts Vessel and I to be in direct sunlight, and especially right now, Vessel's eyes are extremely sensitive.'
It takes a moment for the God to respond, voice a little distant. 'Your eyes will adjust to the light soon enough, give it time. My first may always be sensitive, but it should lessen to merely being intensely bright lights, or sunlight for long periods that cause pain.' Sleep assures.
'Ah, I see. Thank you, Sleep.'
'Of course, my second.' Sleep responds fondly, voice already fading.
II grabs a couple of plain lamps, a few nightlights and a set of black-out curtains. As II makes his way to the pharmacy section, he passes a large box full of halloween items on clearance. II doesn't really remember what time of year it is, but it must be fate because at the very bottom, one of only two left, is a fluffy plague doctor plushie of a medium size. From its beak, a poppy peeks out, and in it's hands is a Victorian style lantern.
One quick glance and II wants to get it for Vessel. Admittedly, II isn't one for plushies, and he has no way of knowing if Vessel is either, but he wants to get it for him anyway. He wants to see the other man's reaction so badly his heart races in his chest.
II wonders if Vessel would mind if he got a radio and some other things for entertainment before going ahead and getting some things anyway. Vessel can't lay there sick and awake, without something to do.
Other than his find, II makes quick work of the store trip, eager to get back to Vessel. A sigh of relief falls from his lips as he opens the door and Vessel stirs, mask moving up to look in his direction and II holds out his gift with trembling fingers and a heart full of hope.
The uncertainty he stewed in gathering the rest of the items he needed was worth the way all six of Vessel's eyes lit up, a spark of life finally filling them for a moment as the man takes the plush with fingers that tremble just the same as II's.
Fleetingly, with a rueful smile, II wishes he could see his full face, but he supposes the way Vessel's smile was the biggest he'd ever seen would have to do.
"I can't wait to see this properly." Vessel says, looking between II and the plaguedoctor plush with the brightest eyes II has ever seen.
II's heart races, and little butterflies flutter in his stomach, but he smiles back just as wide. "Suppose you'll just have to get better quicker, then?"
Vessel huffs a laugh, bringing the plushie up to cover his mouth that the mask leaves bare, but his smile never falters from behind the plush material. He wishes he could see II's dimple, but the other man's mask is pulled down all the way to where it usually sits around his neck, eyes crinkled at the edges as II squints like he's the one who can't see properly. Its so fucking endearing and Vessel knows, without a shadow of a doubt that if his heart still beat in his chest, he would have offered it up to the other man right then. A prayer of thanks is sent to Sleep, and a subtle 'I told you so' was sent back, causing Vessel to smile wider.
"Mind if I do your hair?" II asks, waving a cluster of newly bought hair ties in hand, and Vessel nods, further surprised by all II is continuing to do for him.
He turns around as best as he can, long limbs making it difficult to move around, and lets II run his fingers through his hair to get it a little less knotted. The mess of hair, differing lengths in something resembling a grown out wolf cut, is soft under II's touch. "Can you move your mask from your face a little?" II requests, and Vessel aquiesces easily.
II's gentle hands pulls the few framing strands of hair from under the mask, pulling all of his hair back into a ponytail that keeps the hair away from his face. It'll make puking into that grocery bag much easier, Vessel realizes, running his fingers over the felt material of the plaguedoctor's lantern.
Vessel's voice is barely normal volume when he asks, feeling down the ponytail with nimble fingers, "You know how to do hair?"
II shrugs as he responds, "My mother-"
He pauses, frowning, eyebrows furrowed in thought as Vessel rights himself in the seat, plushie held securely in his lap. "My mothers," he corrects, "meant to teach me how. I- I just never made the time. I should've."
"You had people who cared for you before you joined Sleep?" Vessel asks, sad for the other man.
Vessel had no one, so he can't imagine how it must feel to have willingly left family behind.
"I think I did. I- I don't regret my choice to be here, I know I don't. I was meant for this, I can feel it in my bones, y'know?"
Vessel thinks back to how he had nothing, no one, was so alone and hated himself so utterly that he killed himself and only then was he brought to his God. Vessel really isn't sure he was meant for this, to be the vessel of a God alongside this man who is already beginning to mean more to Vessel than his heart can bare when he eventually leaves. He merely waits for the day Sleep realizes that these new vessels will spread their message far better than he ever could, and tosses him aside once he is of no use anymore. It always turns out that way.
Vessel smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, I know."
He doesn't.
Before II pulls out of the parking spot after putting it in reverse, he offers his hand to Vessel. Vessel clutches the plushie with one arm, taking II's hand with his and holding it reverently. He notices that he didn't even hesitate this time, and wonders when he got so soft, so pathetic and quick to break under his convictions. One of his previous partners would always slap his hand away when he wanted to hold theirs, so Vessel stopped trying. His third partner, who saved him from his previous, was- well, not so nice, but in a thankfully less physical way. II has yet to do anything like that, and its becoming apparent that if he did, Vessel would crumble away from the agony of the first person to act like they for care him finally realizing how undeserving of that care Vessel really is.
The drive back to the manor is uneventful, filled with whatever CD was playing in the radio while Vessel kept his head covered to block out the sun. II keeps a careful eye on the road, but also on Vessel. The other man is feeling a bit better today, it seems, though there is a twinge of pain from the bond that he keeps cracked open, but otherwise, II is happy to say Vessel seems as content as he can be, but II worries he is only projecting calm.
Pulling up to the road leading to the manor, II contemplates leaving the car where it usually sits, but decides against it. It fits through the small space easily, and II watches in the rear view mirror as the tree trunks on either side widen, branches reaching over and entwining, leaving no space for a vehicle to pass through. Eyes wide, he turns back to the road to be sure he doesn't crash the car, his surprise flitting over the bond.
"Y' 'kay?" Vessel mumbles, lightly squeezing II's hand to get his attention, drowsy but awake even now.
His mind begs for rest, but he knows he will not get it.
"The forest blocked off the road we're on at the invisible divide between the outside world and Sleep's mortal realm." II explains, and Vessel hums in response, satisfied with the answer.
"To keep people out." Vessel surmises, blinking blearily up at II whose eyes remain on the road, but Vessel appreciates the small squeeze of his hand that II does in acknowledgement that Vessel spoke.
After parking the car by the house, its a much easier affair getting Vessel into his room than it was before they left. Wrapped up in the blanket as he is, Vessel leans heavily onto II's side, the most contact they've had thus far despite the layers and layers of material between them. II's arm is wrapped around Vessel's shoulder, holding tightly to his bicep. His mask juts uncomfortably into II's shoulder where his head leans. II wouldn't ask him to lift his head for the world. To be allowed this much contact when it was clear Vessel shied away from anything more intimate than holding hands was a miracle II wasn't going to shun.
He worries that once Vessel is better, the other man will pull away. II knows its likely, and hates how quickly he realizes that he'll miss this.
Vessel clutches his plushie to his chest as he sits on his bed with both arms while II goes back and forth between the manor and the car. He sets up Vessel's blackout curtains and lamp. After plugging in the radio and setting it on the floor next to the lamp, he heads out to grab some of Vessel's cd's, making a note to buy some damn nightstands. When Vessel is better, they'll need to go back to the store.
So far, most of this being a Gods vessel thing has been grocery shopping and refurnishing the house. And lots of sickness.
As II comes back in for hopefully the final time, Vessel is watching him, mask off and all six eyes peeking over the hood of his plushie. The red of his irises stand out starkly against the black of his sclera, and as the other man blinks, they seem to glow in the low light. Already pieces of hair have slipped free from the ponytail II had pulled Vessel's hair into, little strands curling at the edges in wild waves that stick to his sweaty cheekbones and forehead, face flush from the fever. II wishes he had a phone, just so he could take a photo. Alas, his phone had been lost with his death. They should probably get some new ones. It's not like they're wanting for money.
Vessel raises an eyebrow at II's still form, locked in place in the doorframe, pretty blues simply staring him down. He wonders what it is II saw to make him freeze like that, pulling his plushie up further and hiding his face in its soft material.
"I noticed sound hurt less than light so I figured you'd enjoy some of your music since there isn't much else you can do right now?" II says, finally, moving further into the room as Elvira weaves between his feet, waving Vessel's CD case around in hand for emphasis.
Vessel says an agreement that ends up muffled by the plushie, but II understands anyway, bringing the CD case over so he can read through Vessel's collection aloud. Vessel listens intently to II, even after a CD is chosen and playing on the radio. II stays awake as long as he can, settling in beside Vessel at some point after having the sick man take some pain killers. II falls asleep turned on his side as Vessel is, facing each other, one hand in Vessel's and the other clutching the sleeve of his hoodie. Elvira curls up at the windowsill behind the curtains where a new pet bed sits.
During the night, II's eyebrows furrow and there is this growing feeling of hunger in Vessel's stomach, loud sounds emitting from his body that Vessel worries will wake II. Vessel senses something, though he isn't sure what, only that it is familiar. On instinct, Vessel reaches out with Sleep's power as it aches in his chest in time with Vessel's hunger.
In his sleep, II's hand has loosened its hold on Vessel's hoodie and Vessel is reaching out, laying a palm against II's temple as the other man sleeps. Before Vessel truly realizes what is going on, an inky swirling black mass filled with glimmering pieces of white, like stars, is encased in his palm, clawed fingers gripping it tightly as he pulls his hand from II's temple, more of the inky substance following the motion.
It gets lost in the darkness of his skin, but Vessel feels it in his palm, soft and wispy around the edges like a... dream.
II's eyebrows even out, face falling into a neutral expression. Vessel breathes a sigh of relief before his attention flits back to the thing in his hand. Without being fully aware of his actions, driven only by an instinct from within his soul, Vessel sits up enough to swallow the thing whole.
It slides down his throat smoothly, settling in his stomach with ease. His hunger abates, stomach satisfied for the first since he became a vessel, but his mind is in a frenzy of confusion and elation, buzzing throughout his body like a livewire.
He shuts his bond off, closing the door with a resounding mental click, II's emotions come through a little muffled afterwards but there isn't a lot of time to focus on that as-
There's yelling in his ears. Someone is demanding money, threats of violence and murder. He feels his own hand as it slams into a jaw, a resounding crack. A body slams into him, he falls, a fist against his cheek, his brow. The asphalt beneath him is cold and disgusting but the sky above is beautiful, an expanse of murky blue with stars peeking through. Feels the knife slide into his chest, once, twice, three times. Spit lands on his cheek after his clothing is rifled through.
"All that fight for twenty fucking dollars?" His attacker mutters, kicking his side as he makes to escape quickly.
It knocks the breath from his lungs. There is something in his throat, bubbling up past his lips. An uncontrollable cough splatters something wet on his face and clothes. He lays there for who knows how long, a grin pulling at his lips, a baring of teeth more than anything. He's dying, but he gave almost as much as he got. It gets cold, colder than the ground beneath him. He wants his cat, hopes his mom won't get rid of her cause she's allergic-
Vessel gasps, coming back to himself. A sob falls from parted lips, gasping breaths as he paws at his chest like the knife was still there, like the wounds still bleed.
This was how II died. Vessel feels it in his very soul.
Vessel's breaths come a little shorter, a little harder to intake, but he won't wake II, refuses to wake him when the other man doesn't stir once during the night, bond remaining a fuzzy sort of peaceful after Vessel ate whatever that was... He thinks it may have been II's nightmare.
It tasted... good. Vessel wants more. Longs for more even as his panic ravages his nervous system, body wracked with shaking as his mind runs wild, clawed fingers digging into his arms, careful not to ruin his favorite hoodie even now, even as tears slip down his cheeks and wet his hair, gold blurring his vision. He feels blood gather in the bandages where the wounds haven't healed all the way, but refuses to move, to do anything but stare up at the ceiling. He'll wait for this to pass, as he always does. When he's better, II will stop being so caring anyway. It's better this way.
::
When II wakes in the morning, he notices first Vessel's labored breathing and clammy skin. A smear of gold at the corner of one of his pairs of eyes, of it in his hair and by his pierced ears. His eyes are closed, but II knows he isn't asleep. That he cannot sleep, even if he wishes to. His eyes are creased in pain, scrunched so tightly they're thin lines on his face, mask lain off to the side, and his lips are pulled tight into a grimace.
II sits up and dabs at Vessel's sweaty forehead with a clean cloth he'd been setting aside for it, upset at the other being unable to sleep during any of this. Upset that Vessel didn't wake him up when it's clear he's been crying. II asks his God aloud if they could let Vessel sleep, even if only for a little while, but the reply causes bitter displeasure to well up within him.
"Vessel has tapped into a power not given to him, my second. He must suffer the consequences, awake, as is his Holy Duty."
Vessel sighs, resigned, already knowing this to be the case, and as used to pain as he is, it doesn't upset him much, easily accepting this answer. II, on the other hand, is not so accepting.
"Can this Holy Duty not wait until he is better?"
"My first did this for-"
'Do not tell him, my God. Please. He doesn't need to know. I am fine with staying awake for this. As you said, it is the consequence of my decision.'
"...Sleep, why did you stop speaking?"
"It is nothing you need concern yourself with, my second. The First will remain awake. He has already agreed to do so."
II turns sharply to stare Vessel down, not able to help the bite in his words, though he regrets it immediately, "Vessel! Why would you-? You don't have to punish yourself even further!"
Vessel cringes away, unable to meet II's eyes, clutching his plushie to his chest, trying to hide behind it. II apologizes for his tone and volume, but makes sure Vessel knows that he does not deserve to suffer. He knows it will take more than a few words in such a short amount of time, but II can only hope that he'll get through to Vessel eventually.
I do deserve it, Vessel thinks. I deserve every bit of this, and I'd do it a million times over if it meant I could still take away II's pain. To see him like that during his transformation... it was nothing short of torture. Vessel knows he shouldn't get attached so easily, but his mind and heart are not always in agreement.
Vessel continues with a fever that he cannot escape from, one that makes him relive memories with people whose faces he cannot see, cannot remember. He remembers the pain they caused, and while the faces and names are indecipherable, the memories, their actions remain in almost vivid detail. He shakes and shivers, but still won't let II any closer to try and keep him warm, never letting his stuffie go, so the shorter man resorts to piling blankets atop him and holding his available hand.
It takes two more days of a fever before it breaks in the afternoon, Vessel's wheezing coughs and aching lungs slowly going away as the days pass. Vessel goes to sit at the piano downstairs at random times of the day, and every time II looks for him, that is where he sits. A journal and pen sits in front of him as he taps out a slow tune on the worn keys, but there is a hint of a smile on his face. The plaguedoctor plush sits on top of the piano, watching over the man as he plays.
"We should probably get to figuring out songs for worship?" II asks, hating to disrupt the other man but knowing this was one of the reasons they were made vessels in the first place.
The smile falls from Vessel's face, but it returns quickly, a shadow of what it was.
Vessel assumed II was going to distance himself due to no longer needing to care for Vessel. He supposes performing one of the few duties their God required of them takes precedence over any annoyance II must feel at Vessel.
II frowns as Vessel presses a few more keys, a low, sad tune not unlike what he was playing before. The other man nods, agreeing, but won't turn to face him, deepening II's frown. II will admit readily that he's worried, but afraid Vessel will pull away entirely. He's given Vessel space, assuming he'd want it after being stuck around II si long while the shorter man took care of him. He wonders, now, if that was the right call.
Vessel gestures to the drumset and asks II quietly if he'd like to show him what he can do. So II does. Shows Vessel some of the songs he's written drums for, shows him covers he's learned and perfected or made him own.
Vessel looks... happy. Awed. To see II at work. Butterflies have made a permanent home in his stomach at the sight of Vessel looking- proud. Proud of II.
"You've clearly put a lot of effort into your instrument. I've never seen someone play the way you do. What are your influences again? Ah, pop, r&b, and gospel, right?" Vessel inquires, genuinely seeming interested.
II knows Vessel has listened to him talk about his drumming before, about his music taste and everything but II- II didn't realize that Vessel listened and remembered.
"Yeah. Metal too, which is mostly what I play. Any free time I had was spent learning the drums and analyzing my favorite drummers. I- I put a lot of time and effort into this." II replies, eyes wide, tapping out a quiet beat on the hi-hats.
"You're good, very good. I see you've worked for this level of skill. I'm not adept with the drums but even I can see that." Vessel affirms, smiling wide as he fixes his position at the piano from where he's turned to watch II play.
"You think you could come up with something for this song?" Vessel asks, beginning to play a soft tune.
II cannot do anything but stare, utterly captivated, as Vessel, masked, takes one last nervous glance at II, a deep, steadying breath, then begins to sing.
"Fold, secrets in the sweat, Like I, Swallow years beneath this bed. Until I wake I, dine on old encounters~" Vessel continues off into a lower register, vocals getting more powerful and already II can imagine what he'd do with him drumkit to follow along with the others man's voice.
It's over long before II wishes it was, and Vessel glances back at him shyly, explaining it was only a small section that he'd completed. It was the first time II had ever heard the other man sing fully before, only soft hums and quiet, almost whispers of lyrics when he was working in his notebook. His control and range was phenomenal, each word deliberately pronounced in a specific way that struck II as odd, but- but entrancing.
"Your voice is beautiful. It must have taken you ages to get that kind of control over it." Vessel blushes at II's compliment, the tips of his pointed ears turning rosy alongside the tint to his cheeks.
"It's not that great. I have a lot to improve on." II frowns slightly at Vessel clearly trying to deflect the compliments but leaves it be.
Something to be worked on, it seems, not that II minds. He'll gladly sing his praises over Vessel's vocal ability until the man finally understands that II truly thinks he's talented.
II thinks back to the song Vessel sung and begins to play what comes to mind. The first few beats don't sound quite right so he tries them a little differently the second go around, and finds it fits much better than before. When II has a good rhythm going, Vessel begins to sing again, those same lines from before.
Sleep's presence becomes more pronounced, their blood singing in tune with the God. Their skin begins to change, both of them, the darkness of their arms spreading up and covering their entire bodies. II's eyes glow bright blue when Vessel glances at him, and knows his must be glowing a bloody red.
II has worked with others in the past, he knows he has, remembers some not so great moments and people, but this sense of rightness, this euphoria when he plays music with Vessel is unlike anything he's ever experienced before. He knows it in his bone marrow, rushing through every vein.
They were meant for this.
It is not easy, despite their skill. They get stuck on certain parts of songs, respectively, give each other space when they need it and ideas or someone to bounce ideas off of when things get overwhelming. It is not easy, when Vessel's lyrics touch his soul so deeply he breaks down into sobs writing them, singing them. Such agony cracks his voice, baring his pain for the world to witness. It breaks II's heart to see him like this, but it is also relieving. Bringing all this pain back to the surface is not without its benefits. Inch by inch, so miniscule you'd barely notice at all if not for the bond connecting their souls, II can feel some of Vessel's pain slipping away the more of his soul he bares in their music. II likes to think that putting it out in the world and unlocking it from his heart is therapeutic, in some way. He has to believe it, because II wants Vessel to heal, he wants him happy, and playing music is one of the only times a true smile lights up Vessel's face, as anguished as he is, dripping tears onto his jeans.
There is peace to be found in the quieter moments, the days passing by but not without hardship. Vessel struggles with his mental health, with the effects of their God not letting his human mind rest, but he has II even as Vessel keeps him at as much of a distance as his heart will allow.
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lchufflepuffcorn · 2 years
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Hello how are you? can i ask you for an imagine or headcanons please with Aizawa (and Hawks if you don't mind) where his girlfriend who is a pro hero got in the way during the fight with Stain and the students of UA and s was found injured
Author's note: Hi, yes hello! You're so sweet!! I'm good, thanks. I'm so sorry it took so much time. I got stuck on Hawks, then I erased it all because I thought it sucked b*lls, then I worked like a bazillion hours at my job, then I started writing it again, so here it is !! Also, I decided to give this two types of ending, one with Aizawa and one with Hawks, because I'm a Libra and can't decide between them. Sue me. 
Warning: Cheezy à souhait. More like a reaction/imagine than anything else.
Words: 901
Masterlist OGW Masterlist
It was supposed to be an easy 'take 'em away' mission. 
Get the kids out of harm's way and wait for reinforcement in safety. Simple. 
Not quite. 
Trying to get one Iida, Midoriya and Todoroki were more complicated than it seemed over the phone as the three of them were in a rage you'd only seen in blood-thirsty villains before. Not teenager. Somehow, it became clear that fifteen years old and serial killers had one thing in common: the feeling of helplessness that usually lead to desperate anger and rash decisions. 
Having retreated safely under your protective shield with an injured Iida, you were now trying to get to Midoriya and Todoroki, who was still going against Stain. Fools. 
Sitting the boy against the wall, you waved one of your hands above him to check for injuries before standing to your feet. "Stay here." You said. Menacingly, hopefully. Anything to give you at least something not to worry about. Geez, you hated teenagers. 
"'Take care of them'" you muttered under your breath, blocking one attack from Stain and just missing being cut in half by his blade. "'We won't be long' he said, 'It'll be easy' he said." 
You weren't an action superhero, for Earth's sake. You helped during tsunamis, earthquakes, and forest fires. Not against stupid people with to-big-egos and somewhat helpful quirks. But no, he had to contact you because you lived close and could help immediately. 
You weren't stupid. These kids had no chance to overtake Stain alone, and you were of no help to them. What could you do to help them otherwise to cure their wounds and create protective shields around them? Nothing. 
Seeing the blade before the red and white-haired kid, you caught his arm and swung him behind you, effectively getting slashed in the back in his place. 
Everything got loud for a while after that, then silence. 
Aizawa: 
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Everything was fine. The quirk would soon fade, and you'd be walking. It was fine. 
No, there was no need to go to the hospital. 'Yes,' you could see the three fingers Shouta help up to your face. And as you answered all of his questions, you could see the boys standing behind with mixed emotions on their faces. 
But that could be because of Endeavor too. 
And the night was still far from finished. 
It took hours to finally get back home, cuddled up in blankets and munching on some food, whatever you'd caught first when raiding the kitchen. But Shouta wasn't finished with his sermon. And it went on and on again until it's very late and you're angry. 
"You asked me to get there first." You accuse, a finger waving dangerously close to his nose while a blue light seems to shine from the tip. "I helped, 'cuz that's what I do best. I got him out of the way." You let out a sigh. "I'm not a fighter, and you know it."
He only blinks back at you, slowly, like a cat. His face is stoic, and no more words are falling from his lips. He considered your words quietly, and when he seemed to reach a decision, he hesitated again. His mouth moved as if he was choosing words carefully before talking again. In a final sigh, shoulder falling down as he did, Shouta finally talked, closing his eyes. 
"Thank you for helping." 
"Yeah," you respond, settling to kiss his chin, passing a hand on the front of his sleep shirt. "You're welcome." 
Hawks: 
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He was standing with his back straight, his face grave as many reporters were flashing camera lights in his face. Questions were shouted all around, drowning him in the sounds as he just waited for you to get out of the emergency room. He doesn't answer most of the questions. 'What is Endeavor doing?' Is the only thought floating in his mind except: 'What's taking you so long? You didn't look that hurt...' 
He was pacing back and forth, sometimes flashing forced smiles to the cameras when they passed through security and waving at them when they were dragged away. 
Fucking children... Fucking egotistical children too prideful to admit they were in something way over their heads. And freaking messed up society with its messed up system too! 
When your head popped out of the door, he was all over you, arms over your shoulders. He escorted you to your car before getting inside it with you. Fuck the Hero Commission. He'd deal with the pictures tomorrow. Tonight, he'd cuddle. It wasn't his fault you were found lying on the ground of a dirty alley with fucking children paralyzed on the concrete, while a full-grown adult villain was doing a speech on the same messed up hero society while beating up children and women. 
Keigo would have committed murder, would have it him who'd found you. 
"Seriously, I feel fine!" You said for the third time in the same hour, after you changed position in bed where you were now situated. 
"Still..." Keigo's frown deepened as you shimmied into a (once again) comfier posture, the remote now closer.  
You rolled your eyes. 
"Stop it. I'm fine. And worry is not a good look on you." You tried to uplift his mood, but your laughter made you hiss. When he raised an eyebrow, you sighed again. "I'll tell you if anything changes. Now can we just relax?" 
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invad3rzz · 1 year
Text
Part 1 - Der Hund
Tags: Threats of violence, panic attack mention.
***
"He rarely comes out of his room, Jackie. I'm just not sure what we need to do."
"He just needs space, Marv. I'm sure he's okay he just need to recover."
"If you won't talk to him then I will."
"Hey no, he needs space. He wants to be alone."
"He's needed to be alone for 3 months, Jay. I just want to help him."
He sits at the top of the stairs listening to their conversation, like a small child listening to his parents argue about an upcoming divorce. He's never been quite right since he came home. Nightmares and flashbacks occur on a daily. He has a migrane that never seems to go away. The tremors in his hands and scars all along his body are a permanent reminder of the demon who took him. The demon who snuck him away to Germany and tortured him there for 9 months undetected. However now he will walk to his room, turn out the light, lay under the cover, and hopefully get an hour of sleep before a nightmare wakes him.
Three hours later he wakes, gasping for air. He grips at his comforter as tears roll down his bright red cheeks. His door swings wide open, bright light fills the room startling him more. Marvin runs to his bed side and cups his cheeks wiping away tears. "Henrik!! Shit man are you ok?" He can't even nod or shake his head so instead he rests his head into Marvin's shoulder sobbing. "Hey sunshine it's ok. You just had a nightmare that's all. Oh gosh you're hot, here I'll turn your fan on for you." He sniffles, lifting his head up and wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
"I am not a baby. I can... I can take care of myself perfectly fine." He states grabbing his glasses of his nightstand. "And stop trying to say that I need help. I am fine."
Marvin chuckles, "I know but it's ok to admit you need help sometimes. If you don't want my help just say the word but I'm super worried about you. Just let me try to help at least?" Henrik goes quiet. Does he need help? Is he getting worse? Marvin holds his cheek, running his thumb across it. He wishes he could sink into the warm touch and relax finally, instead he pulls away.
"You're acting like my mother." He mumbles quietly. Marvin did always act like a mother figure, calming him through panic attacks or even sewing up scratches in Jackie's supersuit when fights got too rough. Sneaking a note into his lunchbox before work with doodles of cats and flowers and making a cup of lavender tea with milk when he had rough days at work. "I'm starting to think you're her reincarnated." He doesn't realize it but a smile has crept up onto his face.
Marvin laughs, "You think so? Didn't she die wayyy after I was born?" He lets out a small nod. "I just like to look after people that's all! Hey it's late, if you want I can make you some tea or stay until you fall asleep."
"I think I'll be ok but thank you." Marvin stands up and begins to walk way, "Wait. Can I tell you something?" He stands in the doorway and nods, "I keep having nightmares about...well you know, but keep hearing the name Jameson in my sleep. That probably doesn't make any sense but it's like a whisper that won't get any louder. I've never heard the name before and I just... have a feeling you might know about it."
Marvin nods in the doorway, "I'll look into it but for now get some rest. Goodnight Hen." He closes the door leaving the room in darkness.
He tosses and turns that night trying to remember anything he could about the name Jameson. Why now of all times? Who could Jameson be? A ghost? A man who Anti killed many years ago? Marvin wonders too, who could this Jameson be?
While back in Germany, a man named Jameson sits across from a demon. His eyes are as sharp as the knife between his fingers. "I thought I told you to kill the hero." The demon spits. He hold a glass of whiskey in his poisonous hands.
'And I have told you I am not killing anyone.' Jameson angerly signs back. The demon across from him smirks throwing the rest of the drink down his throat.
"Keep up your attitude and I'll break those fingers of yours again." Jameson stares daggers into the demon across from him. Maybe if he stares hard enough, he'll explode into a million pieces. "Don't give me that look JJ. You're my puppet and I am your puppeteer. You have no one else but me. So we can do this the easy way or the hard way, and you know how much I hate using the hard way." Jameson doesn't need to speak words or use sign to get his point across, he simply holds up his middle finger not breaking eye contact with the demon.
The demon chuckles, "Ok then, the hard way it is."
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Text
Weird dream story:
In this dream my partner and I were I think house-sitting for someone, but in general not currently staying at our house. So I was coming home to check up on things there. And I was in the backyard puttering around when suddenly Eliot wanders by -- Eliot my fully non-fictional cat, not a human person name of Eliot. This is surprising and bad, because he shouldn't be outside at all, but I manage to scoop him up and bring him in the house. Has he been wandering out here for a day or two, since last time I was home? Did I let him out accidentally then?
A few minutes later, he's outside again, and I realize he has some means of escape. I go inside to look around -- inside my house looks totally different from waking life, but that doesn't seem strange to dream-me. I finally find a small window, about head-height in a corner of the living room, that only has a screen, which Eliot has managed to shove out of the frame, and now he can get out. We'll have to replace the window, but that'll take time and it needs to be blocked off somehow right away. The house is sort of oddly empty, but I do find some cardboard, and I text my friend Lacey (who is the handiest person I know in real life, so that was a logical choice) and ask if they can bring me a roll of duct tape.
Now things start getting kind of dream-weird. Lacey comes over and agrees with me about the problem, but somehow we don't fix it. It's starting to rain, and I'm constantly shooing Eliot away from the window; it's not clear if he can get back in by himself, so I basically can't leave until I know the window is fixed. Chalk comes home from work and now we're having people over for dinner, but I'm not focused on the conversation or enjoying anything because all I'm aware of is the rain and this high, broken window.
When the guests leave, Chalk and I are cleaning up and discussing the Window Situation, when we notice Margo (other cat) acting weird, carrying something like she's trying to hide it. We chase her down, and it's a fucking kitten, all wet and scraggly. We check it for injuries and it seems okay. Chalk says, well, I guess we have three cats now, and I say uhhh, he is extremely cute, but are you sure that's a good idea? She says, look, Margo has really taken Kyle in and we shouldn't separate them now, and I'm like, Kyle? We've known this dude for five minutes and you've already named him...Kyle? And she's like, yeah, from South Park -- South Park, a television show that I have not really watched in about 20 years, and that as far as I know Chalk has never watched one time, ever. Even in dreamworld, this strikes me as incredibly weird, and I'm unsettled by the storm and the strangeness of all this, but I feel like I can't say no to this poor kitten that my wife has suddenly adopted (excuse me, to Kyle).
We're doing all this kitten-examining on the kitchen table, and after some commotion in the living room, we go in and find Kyle's wet mom lying on the floor, presumably having barely gotten both of them in through the window. Chalk is immediately like, we should take them both to the vet and starts pulling out a kitty carrier so we can do that, and I'm not sure we're ready to be a four-cat household, but this does seem to be happening, so instead I say, wait, we shouldn't leave until the window is fixed, everyone's getting in and out of the house and that's not good. If we leave it like this, who knows what we'll come back to? I find this thought highly stressful, but Chalk seems to be concerned only about the Kyle and Mother of Kyle situation, so we leave the house with the window broken (somehow between us and Lacey, nobody ever figured out how to block it off, we just gave up on that) and head to the after-hours emergency vet. I think there was a brief bit when we were actually at the animal hospital, but that was pretty much the end of the dream.
I don't know if that's interesting to anyone else, but it was all so vivid and mostly linear, which is unusual -- if I remember dreams at all, it's usually kind of a jumble of images and emotions. Thank you for being my dream journal, happy Ides of March.
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Chapter 36: HELLO_WORLD
It was a bit of a cooler day than the ones recent to memory, even the robot could tell that. It made sense, however. Summer was finally starting to end, and the cooler and more bearable season of fall would be upon them. It was still a little crazy to think the clan had been here for about half a year. Surely the government was resting well on their earth, smug about the fact they got rid of the toppats for good. Oh, Platinum couldn't wait to hear what they had to say when the toppats got back.
Something felt…a little off about today though. He didn't know why. He felt like he was supposed to be remembering something but no one seemed to have any idea what he could be forgetting. What's more, Hat Girl was able to get some of the others to visit the place. There was no reason why, just 'Hey, come over'. It was strange but Platinum didn't want to question it. He finally got to show Adalyn around, and it was fun watching her steal things from the members while invisible.
As the day went on, he briefly saw Snatcher and Cooking Cat at one point. But they didn't seem to notice him and didn't seem like they wanted to be seen by him. Did he upset them somehow?
Maybe they just had to get some sort of work done, who knows? Platinum knew Snatcher had something happen recently in his forest. Didn't know the exact details, just faintly overheard that something happened while Macbeth was talking with Burt. As for Cooking Cat, she could be talking to anyone about anything. He didn't know her too well and hadn't tried much. Part of him was still annoyed about the cruise when she managed to figure out about his crush on Van…
He didn't let those thoughts stop him during the day. Even if the question of why things seemed off kept swimming around his mind like a fish in a bowl. It was afternoon now, getting late. They had headed to Hat Girl's room just to vibe. They pulled out a card game and you think Platinum, being a robot, would have an advantage. No, he was just struggling the whole time. In his defense, the random noise in the background didn't help his focus.
"Ugh, I can't get this phase for the life of me. Couldn't we have just played uno?" Platinum asked as he sat his cards down on the floor, leaning back a bit as Mu rolled her eyes nearby. He gave her a glare. "Don't give me that look. You got your phases in the first three turns easily!"
"She just got lucky, darling." DJ Grooves said as he pulled Dianna closer to him, gently. Apparently the mother was busy that day so the little penguin had to come with him, which no one minded. Apparently Hat Girl had also invited the Conductor's grandkids but they were all going to be busy with stuff today. Why didn't she just invite them for a later date? "Oh, speaking of which. Hat Girl, darling. Do you have a special someone yet? You're about that age."
"Don't rush me Grooves. I'll find her and tell her when I get the chance." Hat Girl said as she led back, before Platinum rose a brow briefly before smiling. "Oh yea, I'm lesbian. Didn't want to tell anyone until I was fully sure. I already told our Dads, would've told you too but you were busy with Van at the time, brother." Hat Girl said, glancing at Platinum with a smile. She gave a chuckle. "What's with that look in your eyes. You promised them you would be there that night."
"Well first, congrats on coming out. And second, our normal way back from that area of the woods was blocked by a fallen tree, so we had to go the long way." Platinum stated, rolling his eyes but giving a slight smile. Hat Girl went to say something else and he held up his hand to cut her off, giving a tiny chuckle. "And before you ask 'Couldn't you just, gotten back on the path after the tree', don't you remember from my first powering on how weird with my choices I can be?"
"Huh, to be honest I forgot you had to be powered on for a 'first time.'" Stated Adalyn from nearby while Hat Girl shrugged to Platinum's question. Platinum looked at the lazy paw gang member as he shrugged and got on Hat Girl's bed, rubbing his sleeves a bit to get some dirt off. To be honest, he kinda forgot at times he had a first 'power on'. "What was it like? Did you go try to break into a vault or something in the first, like, five minutes of you existing?"
"From what I heard of the story, no." Van said for Platinum, rubbing their arm as they took a small step back from the group. Platinum got up and headed over to them, pulling out the chair by his sister's dresser and letting them sit in it. Maybe it didn't help, but Platinum knew Van got shy easily in situations with people they didn't know well. "Thanks Platy.." Van said before sighing. "I, think he freaked out a bit actually."
"Huh, why am I not surprised." Conductor stated nearby, the card game they were playing having been forgotten by this point. Platinum started to head over to a small stack of books currently on his sister's dresser, maybe he could read one while they did something else. Considering how fast he discrated them from the game, it would probably be best to stay out of it. "Well, lad. What did happen. You can't just mention stuff like that and not expect us to be a wee bit curious.”
"Plus, it wasn't like you were aware before turning on the first time, right?" Mu asked. "I'm a little curious with someone just, coming into existence with the intelligence of a teen."
"Why would that be something of… actually now that I think about it, that does seem like a crisis waiting to happen." DJ Grooves said after having to pull Deinna back before she could begin to climb up to one of Hat Girl's relics, him briefly apologizing to the alien as he did so. Platinum glanced at Van who gave a shrug, not really sure on, anything. "How did you handle it? Were you ever used before you were you?"
"He was, but he doesn't really have too many memories of back then, from what he's told me and our Dads." Hat Girl said as Platinum gave a nod. She then glanced over at Platinum, and patted a spot on the bed beside her with one hand while motioning for him to come over with the other. She gave a smile as he just blinked. "Come on, I'm a little curious myself, never heard the full story. I just know Dad was glad he decided to turn you on before we met."
"Yea, I am too looking back. Wouldn't have been a good first impression." Platinum glanced at Van, who was looking up at him in a bit of curiosity. He then sighed. "Well, I guess I have time to explain a bit."
He walked over to his sister and sat down, jokingly pushing her aside, gently of course. As he began to think of how to start, he found himself pausing. Briefly glancing at his sister. It was funny, it was so easy for him to not exist as who he was now. He was also one of dozens, maybe hundreds of topbots. It was so easy for it not to have been him. To never feel the joy of being alive…
It was, scary when he thought about it. Which was more often they others may think.
"Alright, now let's get one thing straight. Like you all, I was curious about the exact details of my creation, so this first part will be what I got from my wonderful creator and father. If it's not exactly what happened." He shrugged. "Sucks for you, because again, I wasn't there."
"Platinum." Mu said with some frustration as the robot chuckled. And after a moment, begin to recount the tale of his creation…
It was around a little over three years ago, the evening that started his creation. Back when they were still on the airship, the orbital station only beginning to be worked on. Back when Right Hand Man had no clue one day half his body would be replaced by metal. Back before they knew one day they would be stranded on an alien planet by the government. Back before it seemed that one man came and almost managed to turn the clan's lives around for the worst…
It had been a busy week for the leader and his right hand at the time, so since they finally got some downtime, they decided to spend the night with their daughter. Sure, they tried to do this even when they were working, but this week made that near impossible. Lots of things to do and very little time. So it was in order, at least in Reginald's mind. And Hat Kid was happy, just messing around with the two all night long.
Although near the end Reginald had noticed something off. She didn't really talk about what she did the past week, something she normally did when they had the time for these talks. She loved to talk about what little messes her and the other kids got into.
"So Hattie, Mr. Macbeth said he caught some kids gluing glitter all over the walls despite the fact they know they aren't supposed to." Reginald said, glancing over at the girl who glanced to the side. He didn't mean to put her on the spot, but he was just curious and wanted to see if he could get her to talk. "He didn't give me any names, but it seemed like something you and the others would do." Reginald stated as Hat Kid nodded. "Were you one of them?"
"No… Even if I wanted to, they wouldn't let me." Hat Kid said, looking at Reginald with an innocent expression. Reginald paused what he was doing, and glanced over at his husband, who looked to confirm he caught the wording as well. Reginald turned back to Hat Kid, who was whistling. Must have realized what she said. She then glanced at them. "Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have stickers on my face or something."
"Why did ya phrase it like t'at?" Right Hand Man asked, being careful to have his voice in a more gentle tone as he came over, raising a brow. "Because t'ey knew you would get in trouble, and you were our kid?"
"Maybe? I'm not really sure." Hat Kid explained, before covering his mouth and mumbling something about not wanting them to be in trouble. Reginald led Hat Kid over to the couch in their room and had her sit down with him, Right Hand Man following. It took a second of silent reassurance that nothing bad would happen, before she sighed. "The kids haven't been playing with me lately. I'm not mad I just, don't get why?"
"Have you tried talking to them?" Reginald asked, and Hat Kid gave a small nod. He sighed, glancing to the side for a moment. Was it because she was getting older? She was about twelve, almost a teenager but not quite yet. He remembered his time in that awkward state, wasn't the best. He glanced down and slightly readjusted his daughter's hat. "I'm sure they'll let you play with them again eventually. And in the impossible chance they don't, you can start hanging with the teens."
"I've tried that, they won't let me either." Hat Kid said, sighing. "Something about 'getting hurt' or something, I dunno…" She yawned.
"Oh, I didn't even realize the time. Why don't you go get ready for bed?" Reginald said after he took a glance at the clock, it was already a bit past Hat Kid's normal bedtime. Luckily, she rarely put up a fuss when she was told that and this wasn't one of those rare moments. With a nod she said bye and left the room. Once the door was closed and a few seconds had passed, he turned to his husband. "I should have noticed something was up."
"Reg, don't start on yerself, she understands we're busy." Right Hand Man said, getting up with a stretch as he went to go take care of the little bit of paperwork they had left from that day. They already had to give a lot to Sven this week, so they didn't want to toss more. The man needed a break. Right glanced over his shoulder as he worked. "Still, I do find it a little strange. Is t'is normal? Ya know I wouldn't know."
"Maybe?" Reginald asked with a shrug, going over and unbuttoning his overshirt to help cool off from the heat in the room, helped him get ready to sleep easier, especially when he was worried. "Still, she doesn't deserve to be alone when we're not around."
"I know Reg, I know. Not muc' can be done t'ough. We can't make t'em be 'er friends. T'is is a criminal clan." Right Hand Man said, a small yawn in his voice. Reginald gave a sigh as he nodded and glanced at the ceiling as he layed in his bed. The idea of her being 'alone' worried him more then her not having a playmate, however. "Finally." He hard Right Mumble before heading over to the bed, untieing his hair for the night.
"What if something happens to us one of these days and she has no one?" Reginald asked as he turned his head slightly, glancing up at his husband. He saw Right pause for a moment, before sitting down beside him without an answer. She wouldn't be alone, they both silently reassured themselves, or at least tried too. "I know the clan would protect her but still, what if something happens and they can't? They're only human after all."
"We all are. Nothin' we can do about that." The future-cyborg said, leaning beside Reginald and allowing the man to run a hand through his hair. Right kept his annoyed mumble quiet, Reg needed this. "It's not like we can have her in a metal suit in case things go wrong." He tried to joke.
"No we cannot." Reginald said with the faintest chuckle in his voice, but the mention of metal brought an idea to mind. The topbots. They were rarely used and likely would be scrapped once they got the station up in a few years. Maybe he could take one, and reprogram it to keep an eye on her and keep her safe if anything happens. Who knows? Maybe he could even program it with some games. Make it act like a friend to her, maybe even like a brother…
"Ya ok Reg? Ya stared off into space again." Right Hand Man asked with a snap of his fingers, tilting his head as Reginald glanced at him. Reginald simply responded but quickly pulled the man closer, as fast as he could, and gave a kiss. Right rolled his eyes at the act, but didn't break for a few seconds. He chuckled as he glanced at him. "I swear I never understand what goes t’rough yer head sometimes, Reggie. I mean it."
"Maybe I like it that way?" Reginald asked, raising a brow as Right Hand Man chuckled. He then let out a yawn. "I'm heading to bed, night." He said as he closed his eyes.
"That quickly?" he could hear the head shake in his husband's voice and refused to move as he pulled the blanket out from under the 'sleeping' man. Reginald eventually got a 'night' in return as he felt an arm wrapped around him. Reginald smiled a bit more. He didn't know it then, but his and his son's fate had just been sealed.
Working on the topbot was strange. It felt like it took forever yet no time at all, as the time went by quickly once he had the freetime to work on it. He originally just played to reprogram it, but after deciding to lean into the 'brother' aspect as much as possible, ending up speaking a week alone remodeling the robot to look more human, especially more teen-like. Don't even ask him how he got the hair, he just black out mentally and it was there when he came back.
It all went smoothly, from the programming to the redesigning. The only incident he had was when he was working on some of the coding, something happened and he got shocked. He was fine and it wasn't even a bad shock, but something did feel a bit… odd afterwards. He couldn't quite place it however, so he didn't make a big deal about it. Would risk people finding out before he was ready. After at the very least a month of actual work, he felt the topbot was ready to test.
He didn't have the best place for the test, and he didn't want to use the same old, dusty space he’d been using to keep the topbot a surprise. So he snuck it to storage on a day he knew no one should be there, leaning the robot against a tank and removing the cloak he used to cover it while moving it, in case anyone saw.
"There we go…" Reginald smiled a bit as he glanced at the topbot. Its orange eyes were dull now, but he knew in a matter of moments they would glow with the light of life. If only he knew how true that statement was. He grabbed a few things from the box he brough, mostly just stuff for any adjustments he needed to make. "Well… no sense in holding back." He took the remote to the topbot, and pressed the 'on' button. He glanced up at the machine, no idea his world was about to be turned around.
ACTIVEING_UNIT-78… … RENAMING_PROGRAM… … ACTIVEING_PLATINUM… … HELLO_WORLD
The topbot's eyes lit up, and slowly blinked. It moved its head up yet its expression was blank. Reginald sighed inside, he was hoping he could get it to smile when he turned it on. But no matter, he could adjust that. Or maybe he just needed to give the topbot coding time to adjust to the new coding of being a protector, a brother. The robot glanced at him with the blank expression, tracking his movements faintly with its eyes.
"Hello Platinum." Reginald welcomed, despite knowing the topbot should know who he was. He grabbed a picture of Hat Kid he had brought, and held it up. He saw the topbot's eyes lock onto the picture quickly. "There's many things I programmed you to do. But…" He smiled. "Your main purpose is to keep her safe."
"Keep her safe…" The robot repeated his words, using the voice he spent a whole day working on so it was near-impossible to tell he recorded its lines… But that… wasn't one of them, was it? Inside the topbot's head, questions started to form… questions? thoughts? It didn't make sense… And that was when the new files began to try and find their place in it's- no, his head, and his eyes went wide.
"Platinum?" The man in front of him questioned, and the topbot glanced at him, shaking a bit as he stepped back. Platinum. Who was Platinum? He was Unit- No, No, His name was Platinum. How could he not know that? Why did he have a name? He glanced at the man in front of him, briefly words appeared in his vision and made the machine shout a small bit as he jumped back into the thing behind him. "Wait- Are you alright?"
"Am I?!" The machine asked, covering his mouth. That was an emotion in his voice, in him. He didn't know what it was, but it wasn't something he was supposed to feel normally. He then pause, he covered his mouth? He closed and open it, feeling the movement. He didn't have that before, did he? He didn't… He didn't do anything before, did he. Of course he did. He was a… "What's going on?! Why can I… feel." Platinum moved his hand slightly, watching with a mix of emotions he didn't know.
"How is this…" Reginald had begun to reach for the remote, but paused. The topbot in front of him seemed truly scared…
"Shouldn't you know Chef- No, Reginald- No, Dad?" Platinum asked in that one emotion, the words under the two hatted man kept changing as the files updated his information. The files, they were acting too quickly for him to try and focus. Trying to give him information on things he had zero clue on yet. Trying too, he didn't even know. "I-I can't do this. I-I can't, I'm broken. I-I can't do anything, there's too much, I-I-"
"Platinum, it's ok!" Reginald reached for the topbot's sleeved arm as the robot looked at him, his orange eyes shaking and some oily tears just starting to form in the bottom of it. He didn't understand why the topbot could be acting this way. He shouldn't be acting this way, it wasn't how he programmed his script… but maybe he wasn't running on it. "I don't know what's going on, but if you calm down, I'm sure we can work it out."
"Work on…me? Work means off!" Platinum backed up, pulling his arm away from the man. Something told him he didn't feel this way about being turned off against his will before. But that was when he didn't feel anything, when he didn't have a will. "I-I just wanna be left alone!"
"Platinum, I-" Reginald reached for him again, but Platinum pulled away and bumped his head into the thing behind him. He glanced back at it, and looked up slightly. He didn't know what it was, and it seemed the files in his head were racing to find an answer for him, which hurt his head more. But on top of the thing appeared to be an opening. "Wait, you can't go in that-" Reginald said once he saw the robot begin to climb up the tank.
"J-Just give me a moment!" Platinum cried out as he managed to open the tank and hop inside, closing it before Reginald had a chance to catch up with him. Platinum glanced around the dark space, letting out some shaky breaths as he got to his knees, taking his hand to his chest. He heard the entrance tried to be open, but he reached up and kept it closed. "P-Please! Leave! I don't know what's going on! I-I swear I'm not…"
Reginald was quiet as he listened to the sobs inside. "Ok… But you can't stay there forever. It's not safe." He said, gently patting the hatch. Even if he wanted to go in, Platinum had locked it so he couldn't get inside. "Just try and calm down.." he said as he began to head down the tank.
Once he was down on the ground, he sat for a moment, and thought.
Somehow, Platinum wasn't just an AI running on a script like he intended. He was alive, fully aware. Was every topbot like this? Having its own hidden soul waiting for the chance to express itself without being controlled… No, judging by his son’s reaction to, well, everything, it seemed Platinum had no idea what it meant to be alive. Just throwing the gift of life seemed to have caused him his panic.
"Well, know I wished I did this is small session." Reginald said, burying his head in his hands and letting out a mumble. He wasn't upset Platinum was alive, far from it. But he wasn't expecting to be the first to create a fully aware robot. One that was now sobbing inside the tank. It made him feel awful. If he knew, he would have taken it slower. Give Platinum time to adjust slowly.
It was too late for that now. Reginald glanced at the remote. He could turn Platinum off and move him somewhere calmer, but he was scared by the idea of being off… Which meant he was likely scared of Reginald now. He couldn't bring Hattie to him like this… that left only one option.
Right Hand Man was in his room, cleaning his bat with the tiniest hum coming from his voice. He just got back from a robbery and he got blood on it. Hey, it wasn't his fault the cop got in his way and refused to step away. He didn't hit hard enough to kill, so he was sure they would be fine after a month or two. That was just what you got when you messed with the Right Hand of the toppats. He wouldn't let himself or anyone else be taken away, not when he was around.
He heard the door open behind him and gave the smallest smile as he looked over his shoulder, seeing his husband. The smile faded a bit even as Reginald gave a small wave. Right Hand Man was no idiot. He could tell something was off. But he also knew just flat-out asking likely wouldn't hurt. Reginald had a bit of pride in him after all, and wouldn't acknowledge what was wrong unless it was him who acknowledged it. So Right would need to find a way to get him to do so.
He got up, tossing the cloth to the side as he went to put the bat back with the rest of his weapons. He glanced over as Reginald sat on the bed, glancing to the side with a look of questioning in his eyes.
"Everyt’in' went well at communications?" Right Hand Man started, Reginald giving a small nod. Perfect, he might be able to get Reginald to say it in conversation, without realizing it. Still, the nod seemed genuine as that was the only thing Right was aware of Reginald needing to do that day. And Burt wouldn't be the one to get the chef worried about something, that was Sven's job. "Good. Burt 'asn't 'ad any added stress about t'e eventually station plans?"
"He says he's sure he can handle the orbital station when the time comes." Reginald said with a smile. He looked at Right and sat beside him, and it made him sigh. God, how was he supposed to start this out. 'So, I made a living AI and he's our son?'. Right didn't even want anymore kids and he didn't mean to push one on him like this. He sighed. "Do you, remember when we first got Hattie?" He started, glancing as his husband nodded.
"Not sure I could ever forget." Right Hand Man said, glancing out the window nearby. The sight of that crashed spaceship would never leave his memory. "Why do ya ask? Because of 'er friends issue?"
"Perhaps… do you remember how she was sad about that rumba of hers?" Regianld asked, getting a nod after Right took a few seconds to fully remember. He could tell back then that it meant a lot to her, but she could tell they were a bit confused so she was doing her best not to seem too emotional over it. He didn't understand why but he wasn't going to question it. "I wonder what it must have been like for her, all alone with nothing but her little robot friend."
"Well, judging by her reaction, they were close." Right Hand Man said. He was a little confused by the way Reginald was taking the cover nation. Why bring up something she seemed to have moved on from? Was he, trying to fix it? He did catch Reginald going through parts of stuff they stole and borrowing tools, all while he thought Right wasn't looking. "Reg, why are you bringin' this up?" Right finally decided to ask as Reginald glanced to the side.
"I… might have done something…" Reginald said, like a child trying to avoid getting in trouble. Right just rolled his eyes and waited for Reginald to finish. The man sighed. "So I… took aside a topbot and reprogrammed it."
"All on yer own? Self taug't?" Right asked with a brow raised, and Reginald gave a sheepish smile as he nodded. Right was still full of questions, new ones like 'why' being added into that pot inside his brain. But he couldn't help but be at least a little amazed, he suspected Reginald was working on something machine based, but programming was a nightmare from what he understood. "Dunno w'y ya did it. But ya should be proud, Reg."
"I am. It's just… my programming went a little too far… and I accidentally gave him life?" Reginald said sheepishly, looking at Right. Right was caught off guard by that, and his face showed. Reginald had to hold in a chuckle as he explained more. "I made him to act like a brother to Hat Kid. Someone too keeps her safe even in the worst case scenario… I also had us programed as his fathers just for more of the heck of it, but now he's alive and-"
"Ya basically made us a new kid?" Right summarized it as Reginald nodded. He let out a sigh as he brought a hand down his face, shaking it slightly. "Reg, I love ya. But couldn't ya 'ave at t'e very least ask me first? We just got used to bein' Dads for Hattie."
"In my defense, I wasn't trying to make an actual son! Just more of a toy? …That sounds wrong knowing he's alive now." Reginald said, shaking his head as Right Hand Man nodded. He was a bit annoyed but it, couldn't be helped. He just had to live with it. Besides, it was a robot child so hopefully he would be a little easier then Hat Kid, and he had experience. "I should have told you, I'm sorry. I just wanted him to be a surprise."
"It's ok, but no more kids after this, please Reg. We're the leaders of a criminal organization, that alone puts our kids at risk." Right Hand Man said, and Reginald nodded. After a moment Right paused. He didn't know if the robot was listening in on the cover nation. He got up to check, ready to talk to him about things since he could have made him mad. "Well, I guess I should go meet him. He's outside waiting, isn't he."
"No, he's in a tank." Reginald said, and Right looked a little shocked. "When I turned him on the sudden self-awareness gave him a panic attack, he climbed into it and I couldn't get him out. I was hoping you could come help me?" Reginald asked. "I think he might be scared I'll just turn him off against his will."
"I suppose the concept is horrifying when you are a machine." Right Hand Man said with a sigh, adjusting his bandana around his neck so he could breathe just a little bit easier. Reginald got into the hall with him and they began to head to storage, Reginald silently hoping nothing had happened while he was gone. It was only about ten minutes at max, but it felt like an hour, somehow. "So, what did you name him? Or does he not have one yet?"
"His name is Platinum. It's not very creative but, I felt it fit." Reginald said, as Right nodded. Platinum Copperbottom, had a ring to it he suppose. He felt Reginald grab his hand and Right glance up slightly at him. He could see worry was starting to get to him. He just had his hand a slight squish and Reginald nodded. "It'll be fine, he'll be fine. We'll just have to take things slow. Hopefully he isn't mad."
"If anything he should be glad once he calms down." Right commented as Reginald glanced at him. "Not everyday you're the lucky one out of hundreds of soulness machines to be given life."
Reginald nodded, and couldn't help but think about it. Would 'Platinum' have ended up different depending on which topbot he used… Why was he wondering that? Platinum was Platinum. He just hoped they could get him to see that…
Platinum wasn't sure how long he was in what he now knew was a tank. It felt like forever. But he didn't mind it. He had managed to get the files to slow their uploading inside his head, and that allowed him to think more clearly, process things clearly. Looking back, he was a bit embarrassed about how he reacted in front of his father, but what was Dad expecting? Him to just turn on and be chill and ready to go? He just tossed awareness onto an object, of course the 'object' would panic.
He slowly glanced at his hands, moving them. Watching as the light from his new orange eyes shone off them. He was still fascinated. It was strange. His memory of being today was blurred. There was stuff but it was hard to recall because there wasn't any Platinum there to remember. He wasn't sure how to feel about this in the long run. But he couldn't stay inside this tank forever. He had a battery that needed to be charged eventually after all.
He climbed back to the hatch, and he took a breath. He didn't need to breathe, but it helped soothe the small nerves building up. He glanced outside the tank when he opened the hatch. Reginald was gone. Huh, he was honestly expecting his father to be waiting. At least he seemed to represent his space…
"Thank goodness he didn't turn me on in front of her." Platinum sighed as he rest his arms in front of him. By now he had fully recovered his programmed purpose, to be a brother to Hat Kid. And he wanted to be a good one, he genuinely did. He just didn't know how he would make any relationship if she saw him panic like that… he paused as he glanced down at the tank. "You know, I could get used to this." He went to go get a look at the controls.
"Oi!" A voice called and it made him jump a bit. Already the files were trying to speed up again, there weren't too many left, but he didn't want to risk freaking out again. He glanced over and saw his father come in with a man. Somehow the man looked familiar, probably had info but he had stopped that file to calm down easier. "Platinum, get out of the tank!" The man said. Platinum gave a smirk, he was programmed to be a troublemaker after all.
"You're not my dad." Platinum started with a chuckle, leaning back with a smug smile. The man looked confused and glanced at his dad. Reginald shrugged at his husband, he could only assume something went wrong in Platinum file's trying to be uploaded.
Right Hand Man tried not to get mad, just annoyed. "Get out of t'e freakin' tank, I am yer Dad!" He called, and Platinum pulled his head back to laugh right as Reginald nodded to his husband's words, so the robot didn't see it. Right glanced at Reginald again and he just mouth the word 'troublemaker'. Of course, Right rolled his eyes. The perfect kind of friend for Hat Kid but not the best type for getting a teen to listen.
"You’re not my Dad!" Platinum started with a chuckle, ducking his head back in for a moment as he heard the man let out a mumble of frustration. He wasn't lying, was he? And besides, this was who he was. It was his first day, they could give him some slack if he was pushing it. He glanced back out with an innocent smile on his face as the red haired man sighed. He glanced at his Dad and gave a thumbs up as Reginald sighed as well.
"Yes I am yer Dad, get out of t'e freakin' tank!" Right Hand Man said as the topbot teen laughed. He sighed. "Ya could get hurt!" He added.
"I'm in a tank and you're not!" Platinum stated boldly, glancing at the man. His bold smile faded when his files finally began to finish processing. And he was instantly hit with the relation that not only was this the second in command of all the toppats. He was, in fact, his Dad. He wanted to hop back in the tank but, he already made himself a bit of a fool here. "Alright, I'll head down. Sorry, my files just finished uploading, Pops."
"Good, but I'm makin' sure that tank is moved to a ground base." Right commented, the teen grumbling a bit as he came down. He glanced at Reginald and then back at the topbot. Now that the 'inside a deadly weapon' issue was taken care of, they were able to take in the fact that Platinum seemed fine now. That was good. "Just don't head into somethin' like that next time you get scared. I understand, but if you pressed a button, things could have gotten bad fast." Right stated, as Platinum nodded faintly.
"At least you're ok." Reginald finally spoke, glancing at Platinum with a smile. Platinum gave a look of 'why wouldn't I be?', but knew what he was referring to. Reginald faintly glanced at the box he still had nearby, with everything he had planned to use earlier if readjustments were needed. He scolded his past self a bit before turning back to his son. "Are you feeling alright? You're systems haven't overheated, have they?"
"I'm fine Dad. Just was… surprised?" Platinum said, looking at the two. To be honest, he still wasn't sure if that was the word he was looking for. He knew what emotions were now but actually pin-pointing the ones he was feeling was still a bit of a challenge. He assumed he would pick up on it quickly though. Just needed the chance to feel more. "Sorry to scare you, just, didn't know how else to react… And besides, you know how you made me."
"I do." Reginald said, a small chuckle in his voice as Right Hand Man rolled his eyes. Even as the man did so, there was a small smile on his face. Sure, Platinum was meant to be a surprise and he’d rather have been aware, but hey. He was his son, nothing would change that. Reginald glanced at Platinum. "Do you feel like you're ready to meet-"
"Dad, Papa? What's with the robot with you?" A young voice called that spook all three of them, at least a little bit. Platinum was the first to recover from the spook, glancing to the stairs where Hat Kid was heading down with a head tilt. She seemed to be eyeing the robot in curiosity and just a hint of worry. "Why is he looking at me, is he a topbot?" She asked. Platinum glanced at his Dads, and got a nod of 'go ahead' from Reginald.
"Well Hat Kid." He said as he headed over, being slow as to try and not spook her. He bent down to her level when he got close enough. "I'm Platinum! Dad and Pops have been working on me for awhile now, mostly Dad. I'll be your big brother and I'll make sure you'll never be alone!" He could have sworn he saw sparkles enter her eyes as she let out a small gasp of excitement. Before quickly hugging him. "Hehe, so you like me?"
"Yea! Thank You Dad, Thank you Papa!" Hat Kid said, calling over her new brother's shoulder at the men, before breaking free of the hug and grabbing Platinum's arm. "Come on, there's so much I wanna show you. Oh, the others are going to be jealous!"
"I bet!" Platinum said, before quickly running off with her, making sure she was in his sights at all times.
"Well, t'at went smoot'ly." Right Hand Man commented.
"Yea… You know, I didn't program every little thing about Platinum. I wanted to see if the script could make its own choices…" Reginald glanced back at the hall. "I can't wait to see who he grows to be."
"And that's pretty much it. Yea, My first few moments weren't pretty, but hey, I'm here today and that's all that matters." Platinum finished as he turned back to the group. For whatever reason, Hat Girl told him to tell the story on the go since she wanted to take them somewhere. A little odd seeing how it was almost over anyway at the time, but he didn't question his sister. He glanced back at the others. "Thoughts."
"Ye should have fired the tank and seen what would've happened." The Conductor said, Platinum chuckling while DJ Grooves and Mu facepalmed. He turned to the chuckle of his sister and smiled. He… wasn't the best at the protection role he was programmed for. But he made sure she never was alone. Back when Dad and Pops were gone, he rarely left her side. He didn't know what would happen if he lost all three of them. "So, what's yer birthday anyway?"
"It's around this time of year actually." Hat Girl said with a smile. A smile that seemed a bit too knowing for Platinum. He paused and sighed, glancing at his sister with a brow raised. "You finally got it, didn't you?" She asked. "You forget every year."
"Wait, really? Today is your birthday." DJ Grooves asked. "And you forgot?" Platinum let out a grone. He could see why they were excited, sure. But he was always just happy to be alive. And while he never told anyone, his birthday brought back the fact he was once a normal topbot, and it easily could have been another one who got the life he now would fight for… "I'm surprised they're not throwing you a big party right now."
"Oh, there's a party waiting, they just never make it big because they know I rather my own be small." Platinum said, pausing when Hat Girl opened the door. Shadow Kid jumped out and grabbed his leg, and he gave a small smile talking about what was inside. There was a sigh as Right Hand Man peaked his head out of the room, shaking his head. "You all weren't going to surprise me. And even if you did, there wouldn't be much of a reaction."
"Just get in 'ere Plat." Right Hand Man said, with an eyes roll yet a small smile. The room wasn't anything fancy, and there wasn't too much going on inside besides a few people who were welcomed to come. But if Platinum had to have his own party, that was the way he liked it. He chuckled slightly with an eye roll.
Luckily, he had been in this kind of situation twice before so he was decent at getting through the typical convos and stuff that came when you were the one the party was celebrating. The only thing he really had to do was eventually open the gifts, well, besides having fun. Luckily, his parents or Macbeth would step in if it was clear Plat was feeling a little lost in one convo and just wanted out. He thanked them for that, at least.
He ended up spending most of the time with Van and Hat Girl, just hanging out like it wasn't anything special. And it made it feel special. He found himself glancing at Van when he was sure no one was looking because they just looked so pretty today. The lights that Macbeth had dug up for the party almost made them glow and it seemed only he saw that. It actually made him a bit glad he had a party for once. At least he knew what he might be able to do for Van's…
Hat Girl eventually caught him and he had to snap out of his self-trace before anyone else noticed. Sure basically everyone on the station knew he had a crush on someone now, but he didn't want those who didn't know whom yet knew it was Van. Less of all let Van know.
"I'm surprised you aren't trying to sneak away and do something, if you really don't want to be here." Mu commented as she leaned against the wall while speaking with him, eating a bit of the cake. Platinum couldn't eat it but he didn't really mind because he didn't really care for food anyway. Because he couldn't eat. "It does seem nice for you, even if it's not anything grand… better than anything I've gotten." She whispered to herself.
"Sorry.." Platinum said, having heard her. Mu just shrugged like she didn't care, and Platinum stepped away and went over to his fathers. "Dad, is it ok if I open my stuff and go. I may have stayed up late the last few nights so my battery isn't as charged as it should be." A lie, but it allowed him to go with a nod from Reg. He made sure no one really noticed. Hat Girl thought about calling attention to it, but didn't. She knew her brother.
He stuffs the wrapping paper in his pockets to hide it as he opens his stuff. There wasn't too much, but he liked it that way. He always told his Dads never to get him much of anything, and they confusedly did so.
He did pause when he opened one though. "Woah." He said to himself. It wasn't anything too grand. It was just a jacket in the same style of the one he always wore. But the colors were those of the pan flag. He should've known his Dads would've gotten him that after coming out, but still. It stood out for some reason. Maybe because it reminded him of the joy it was to be yourself, even if it was a different type of 'be yourself' then the colors represented. He threw it on quickly, standing up and smiling at it. "Hey, thanks!" He called to his Dads nearby, before turning to the others.
He saw Van glancing at him. Was that a.. blush on their cheek? He decided to get a closer look. He heard a "Yer welcome!" From Right as Platinum went over to his crush.
"You look really good in that, Platinum." Van said with a smile on their face, the topbot giving a happy nod as he took a step back and did a little spin to show off… before almost losing his balance. Van quickly grabbed him and stopped, letting out a chuckle. "We know you're a star of the show, but try not to break a leg."
"Star? Nah, I'm more of the disco ball. Does that, even make sense." Platinum asked, tilting his head. Still, he felt his faceplates warm up a bit at Van's comment. But then he saw Van raise a brow. "What is it."
They hesitated for a moment. "Um…Did you get updated again recently?" Van asked. Platinum gave a confused nod, it was two days ago. Just replacing some parts that may have broken. Add any features Reginald could add, as long as they didn't risk messing with his code. "It's faint but… you're blushing."
"What?!" Platinum caught sight of his face using his hand. Van was right, it was faint but there was some sort of light shining through his plates like a blush. "How-"
"Oh, that was me." Hat Girl chuckled as she bumped between the two. "Dad had to leave to take care of an emergency while he was replacing some of the wires in your head, so me and Snatcher made a quick upgrade."
"You're welcome!" The ghost called from nearby.
"Sis, because it's my birthday and I'm generous, you get ten seconds. RUN." A timer appeared in his eyes as Hat Girl quickly darted out of the room with a laugh. Van shook their head a bit.
"If it makes you feel better. I think the blush looks nice on you." Van stated. That made Platinum's blush feature activate more. But yet, he couldn't help but smile.
He was so lucky to be alive…
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twoidiotwriters1 · 2 years
Text
Copycat: Agent Zero —(Marvel Fem!Oc)
A/N: Once again Matthew is here to steal the show -Danny
Words: 2,119
Phase Four Masterlist
Previous chapter // Next Chapter
Listen to: ‘Stranger’ -by Taylor John Williams
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xviii: Date Night
Cat had gone out intending to patrol the city thinking Peter would be too busy for that, but then a sudden fear waked at the back of her mind: What if she hadn't caught all of Beck's helpers and now they were planning to take Peter and MJ while no one was looking?
She tracked them down (checked Peter's Instagram stories to see if he'd posted anything that day) and watched them for almost three hours. She would've stayed until the date ended but someone had been looking for her as well, and they'd finally found her on the rooftop closest to the cat cafe.
"So it's wrong to date a teenager, but it's okay to stalk him?"
Cat threw her spear and Daredevil caught it with a smirk.
"Matthew, you fucking idiot," she walked up to him to retrieve her weapon. "I could've killed you! What were you thinking, approaching me like that while I'm looking the other way?"
Matthew laughed, he let her grab the spear but when she tried to take it, he held it tighter.
"What?" She asked.
"Is your suit different?"
She looked down at the white and blue fabric. "How did ya know?"
"Are you wearing a cape?"
"It's a shield and a glider, actually," she pointed out. "It's pretty cool, wish you could see it."
He raised his hand and brushed his fingertips against the hood, he smirked. "Are those cat ears?"
"I wasn't ready for a drastic change."
Matthew's smile grew. "You're in a good mood for someone who's been watching her ex-boyfriend date someone else."
"Okay, first of all, I've had time for introspection and now I'm over him. Second, how the fuck do you know I'm watching over my ex-boyfriend?"
"I can hear two teenagers talking and they've mentioned you at least twice. Something about how cool you are..."
"Awww," Cat looked back at the cafe with a soft smile. "They're so sweet."
"I guess there's no point in asking how the mission went? I heard in the news you made your debut as an Avenger."
"Yeah, and I made peace with Spider-man."
"So everything's back to normal?"
Cat stopped to think about her answer, she crossed her arms. "I don't know what you mean by normal... My high school friends are still five years younger than me, my brother's still dead, everyone knows Copycat... and I quit S.H.I.E.L.D."
Matthew's voice lost its playfulness. "What?"
She explained that her old friend had gotten involved by accident thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D's lax security and she didn't want to work in such a place. Now she was making sure her friends were protected.
"You've been here for hours, Cat."
"So? Someone could try to hurt them as they leave..."
"I trained you well," he replied sternly. "You would know by now if someone were following them. You're being paranoid."
"I'm not."
"Stop torturing yourself."
"What? I'm not— I'm just looking after my friends!"
"The ones that are having a normal date while you sit here in the cold?"
"You make it sound way worse than it is..." Cat pouted, she avoided looking at him. "Fine. I wanted to look after them, but I also wanted to watch. It's been so long since I had a real date... If it can't be me, I'm happy witnessing one from afar."
Matthew sighed shortly, he turned and started walking. "Come."
"No, you're being annoying."
"We're going on a date."
Cat slipped almost falling off the building. She managed to pierce the floor with her spear and kept herself in place. "Excuse me?"
"An adult shouldn't follow teens without their consent. C'mon Cat, I thought that after working with a lawyer you'd know better..."
"Wait, wait— you're taking me on a date? What?"
"We'll have fun," he shrugged lightly. Matthew stopped and tilted his head a little without facing her. "What, you don't like me anymore?"
"I don't want a consolation prize."
"Ouch. You really think I'm a consolation prize?"
"I think you're pitying me and I don't like that."
"I'm just cheering up a friend. You would do the same for me, right? That's what friends do."
"Friends take other friends to dates?" she replied skeptically.
"I don't date all my friends, only the cute ones."
She bit back a smile. "I'm cute?"
He smirked. "How would I know?"
Cat got to his side and punched his shoulder playfully. "Asshole."
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"Welcome to Josie's," Matt pushed the door open for her.
"This bar is your favorite?"
"Hey, I'm hearing scorn in your voice," the man frowned. "Josie's the best worst-bar here, I promise."
"I promised Kurt I would not get involved in any bar fights, Mr. Murdock, so you better be right about this place..."
"Don't worry, I'll make sure you're safe at all times," he grinned.
The lady behind the bar noticed them. "Good God, Matthew, I didn't take you for a man who takes advantage of young women..."
"I'm the victim here," he joked.
"He's right, I've been planning this for three years," Cat mused. "I'm gonna get him drunk, and then I'll take his virtue."
"You be careful, sweetheart, this one's a lawyer— And a damn good one at that!"
"I'm blushing," Matt guided her to the bar and pull out a stool for her.
Cat was delighted, she didn't know what was going on inside her friend's head, but she wasn't going to stop it.
Matthew passed her a beer. "So what are you gonna do now that you have no job?"
Cat tilted her head. "Don't know... I never stopped to think what my dream job would be."
"I could hire you back in the office if you want? We could use the help."
"The thing is, you can barely afford three people," she grinned. "And I ain't cheap. Besides, isn't it unprofessional to have a date with a possible colleague?"
"You care about that now?" Matthew raised a brow, his thumb was rubbing the neck of his bottle and it was distracting her. "You had a self-discovery journey while you were away?"
"You know when you go through so many traumatic experiences you just reevaluate your whole perception of life?"
"Yeah."
"I guess I had one of those."
"Good for you."
They smiled. Cat's gaze went up to the tv and saw the news: They were nearing the end of that night's transmission, which meant no big incidents were happening. It was eleven o'clock, Peter and MJ had to be home by now, they were safe.
"I can't spend my days hanging out with teenagers, right? And I refuse to spend my twenties surrounded by the same people who looked after me when I was a kid..."
Matthew took a swig sip of his beer. "Kurt's not ready to be out yet?"
"Oh no, he's more than ready. I'm the one that's not ready to—"
"Put him at risk," he finished her sentence. "You're heroes for a reason, Cat. You're always risking your lives."
"I'm not a hero. But no, yeah, I know... I wanted him to have a long break before returning, though."
"Is that what you want for yourself?"
Cat grimaced. "No. I wanna find my place again. The former Avengers are all scattered throughout the universe and the news are calling me the face of the New team, but that team's not even real. I mean, the only available heroes are Spider-man, Nightcrawler, and I—"
"You might wanna lower your voice," Matthew reminded her. "You have an identity to hide now."
Cat blinked, she'd forgotten about it. "Right. Sorry."
"Here's some advice," Matt leaned forward. "You'll have to decide who belongs in your civilian life, and who will know you as Copycat."
"I can't make half of my friends forget the last ten years of our lives!"
"What I'm saying is that from now on you'll have to make a choice. You know people with no superpowers, and I'm sure you'll want to keep them safe..."
"Yes."
"Those are the ones that you can't talk to about your hero life."
She frowned. "But that's impossible. They know—"
"Of course they'll know, but it's better if they don't know all there is to tell," Matt finished his beer. "People get worried, and you'll have to calm them while also tending to your bruises. It gets tiring with time."
Cat looked at him intently. "Is this what you do with your friends?"
"Helps them sleep at night, and it's a time saver for me," he nodded.
"Jesus, Matthew, I didn't know you could be such a coldhearted man."
"No no, it's the opposite. I care about them, that's why I do it."
The mutant grabbed her beer and finished half of it before replying. "So what does this mean?"
Matthew tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
"You telling me this. Does it mean I belong in your hero life? I won't get invited to birthdays and all that?"
"You want to be part of those?" He grinned.
"Only if you take me as your cute date."
"If this one ends well, I'll definitely think about it."
"You mean like if this ends with you taking me to your place, or..?"
Matthew laughed. "You wish."
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Her body had too much energy still, she was used to fighting or training almost every day and therefore she wasn't tired after a day of just walking around the city with a friend.
Cat grabbed her earpiece and put it on her bedside table, she decided to organize her room now that she had time.
"Call Rocket."
"Connecting. Please hold."
She heard unintelligible screams and voices overlapping, when she looked up she saw Peter Quill.
"You," she made a face.
"Who is this?" Quill squinted. "Wait, I know you! You're the little weirdo that could turn into Mantis, right?"
"Can you pass the pad over to Rocket?"
Thor snatched the pad and looked at her with glossy eyes, it was clear they'd been drinking. "Cat! How are you, little lady? I see you're not so little now, are you?"
"Hey, you're still alive," she smiled at him. "Good to see you, man! How are you?"
"Ah you see, having fun," he smiled tearily. "All good on earth? What's going on? Do you need us?"
"Oh no no, no one wants that blond dickwat here," Cat replied.
"Hey, I heard that!" Quill pushed Thor aside. "Watch your mouth!"
"Or what, Starship, are you gonna cry?"
"Why are you two brainless giants yelling?" Rocket's voice came from the back.
"That's my captain!" She exclaimed. "Thor, could you please give the pad to Rocket? I wanna talk to him..."
"Sure, sure... Look after yourself, alright? Be good."
"Of course, big guy. You know me."
The god handed the pad to Rocket. "What do you want?"
"Well, you asked me to call often and it's been a month since my last call, so here I am!"
"Good."
Rocket went back to his seat, behind him Quill shouted. "Hey, your friend is a mean ass! You better tell her to shut up!"
"I heard what she said, and I agree!" Rocket sprawled on his chair and continued. "So what's new, toddler?"
Cat gave him the update, and he seemed pleased for the most part, but genuinely confused over her definite breakup with Peter Parker.
"I don't get why are you so pissy about his age."
"You might not get the concept, but people would give me eery looks if I dated a kid. That's just wrong."
"But didn't you say your new guy is like twelve years older?"
"Okay but that's different. We're both adults."
"You're being stupid, that's what."
"Well, yeah, but what's new?" She grinned. "We went on a date today."
"Good for ya, kid. As long as he treats you right I got nothing against him..."
"Look at you being protective over me..."
"I did say you and Kurt are like my children."
"I wish you stopped saying that—"
She stopped mid-sentence, she'd opened the bottom drawer of her desk and there she'd found the old letters she'd addressed to Peter during the blip. Rocket didn't seem to notice her pause, he began to talk about Groot and his demands, he wanted to pilot the ship.
"You should let him try. I mean, what's the worse that could happen?" She commented, absently going through the missives.
"Oh you know, nothing special except maybe our ugly, abrupt deaths!"
"So nothing too awful then."
Rocket cackled. "No one here gets me like you and Kurt."
"You're starting to sound like an old man. How old are you again?"
"Maybe ten, maybe a hundred."
"That sounds about right..." she chuckled.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Cat was looking for a box under her bed. "I'm cleaning my room."
"It looks dark outside, what time is it?"
"About two in the morning..."
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, don't get all fuzzy," she waved her hand to dismiss it as she crawled out from under the bed. "Gotcha."
She grabbed the thick stack of papers and placed them all inside. Impulsively, she opened another drawer and pulled out an old, battered shoe box.
"So this isn't you having a case of the jitsies?"
She began looking through the stuff, pictures, and old valentine cards that were spreading on the carpet. "I'm not anxious, I'm super energized, it's different. I think... I think I'm kinda happy."
He snorted. "Good to hear."
"Yeah... it is good," she stopped for a moment to take it all in, then kept going.
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humanoidalien27 · 1 year
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Content warning: talking about trauma and the use of unforgivables
......
Chapter 9
Getting Help
   You barely had time to wake up, before Sebastian was pushing a wiggenweld potion into your hands, practically trying to help you drink it.
You were caught between telling him off or asking what he was doing, until you jerked funny and pain shot through your torso.
He sighed when you drained the whole little bottle, getting Ominis to smirk.
"He's been fretting this whole time. Hasn't even slept yet."
"How long was I asleep?" You asked, moving to sit up despite Sebastian's protests.
"Almost a day, but it's early in the morning right now," he replied, finally getting you to at least sit still. "Why?"
"Professor Weasley said to meet her today."
"Matilda is a little busy putting out fires thanks to Draken's animal attack. A group of students, who I know weren't around, swears up and down they saw him attack a cat with crucio. He's been arrested. Of course Matilda knew who they were talking about when they described you. She's also worried about how you're doing. So, if you're late, I doubt she'll hold it against you."
You chuckled as you looked to Sebastian. "Poppy Sweeting to the rescue."
"She does know we're animagi now, and if she didn't think there was something weird about aurors surrounding the school, she does now," Sebastian agreed.
"Yes, let's just hope we didn't bring her into our little marked group."
Felix narrowed his eyes at Ominis. "Quite the ray of sunshine."
"There are orders to kill us on sight. That doesn't leave much room for politeness. Dragging more people into it, will only make things worse."
"I get it Ominis, I do, but we know we can't stop the Minister alone. Poppy can make up her own mind-"
"Without knowing all the facts, she's making a biased judgement call based on friendship. She did the same thing by giving you her wand at Azkaban."
"What's your point?" Sebastian asked.
"Merely stating that I hope all of this is worth the risk people are taking. Or you're going to turn around seeing death trailed behind you and ghosts of regrets swallowing you."
He moved out of the room, leaving the three of you glancing between each other.
"Let me go talk to him," Sebastian whispered, already climbing off the bed.
Felix waited until he moved out of the hall, before sitting on the corner of the bed.
"I never really had a chance to ask, but what's your story? How'd you meet my mother?"
He glanced your way, smiling slightly. "I went to school with her. We dated a while after. I was an auror, she was the secretary to the Minister at the time. I found out a few years later that she was seeing Max De'lany behind my back, so I left her."
"Sebastian said you had a daughter?"
He shook his head. "Your mother was pregnant when I left her. She didn't know who the father was, me or De'lany. He was a good man, didn't realize she was with someone, with me being gone all the time. He doted on you, loved you. It didn't leave much time for your mother. So she went searching for someone else to give her attention, Spavin. Things became worse and she spiraled. He gave her everything she wanted, but it was just a ride to get her hooked. When De'lany realized what was happening, he moved to try turning them in and gaining custody of you."
"He tried to take them all on, alone?"
"Yes, though his worst mistake was trusting your mother. She used not knowing which father was yours as a way to make it seem like he was lying. She lost it entirely after Spavin decided she'd prove her loyalty, by using the imperious curse on you and make you kill De'lany. I tried very hard to get to your house that night, but by the time I got there, Spavin left and your mother was dead."
"And you were blamed for her death?"
He nodded. "Spavin couldn't look bad, he was going to blame it off on you, but no one would believe you grabbed a wand from one of them and went on a killing spree. Just as I had picked you up, an old friend walked through the door. He never believed I killed De'lany or your mother, but there was no proof otherwise either, so he was forced to arrest me, but not before he allowed me to place you with my mother. You called her granny, remember?"
Smirking, you nodded. "I think she enjoyed that."
"She did. She'd come tell me stories about you when she'd visit me in Azkaban. Smuggled in photos of you. When you were a child, no one could tell who's child you were, but once you started growing up, you looked too much like me to pretend it wasn't there."
Your eyes met his in surprise, seeing his soften at it.
"But it was when you became a Gryffindor, that it solidified my belief. De'lany was from a long line of Hufflepuff and Elizabeth from Slytherin. I was a Gryffindor, as was my mother and her father before her."
"Sebastian said you told him stories about your daughter..."
He smiled and nodded. "My family line has the ability of seers, but we don't need a crystal ball, any shiny surface would do."
You looked down at your feet with a nod. "So, you saw almost everything that happened?"
"I didn't watch all the time though. Just enough to keep me grounded. I couldn't lose myself while waiting for things to go the way they were heading."
Catching onto his slip up, you glanced his way. "Waiting for things to go- did you stay in Azkaban knowing Sebastian would be sent there?"
He chuckled. "I might have. His tie to you is strong. I knew you'd give him a way out of Azkaban. You pretend well, but I can see you care for him as much as he cares for you."
Shaking your head, you sighed. "So, this auror friend, is he still part of the Ministry?"
"No, in fact I heard he's now a teacher at Hogwarts. You've actually met him. Aesop Sharp."
     The four of you moved under the disillusionment spell, remaining far enough that the aurors couldn't detect you if they were close.
You managed to talk everyone into letting you go on ahead first, not that Sebastian and Ominis didn't complain about it, but soon you were crossing the threshold into Solomon's home, seeing not just Professor Weasley, but also, professors Sharp, Garlick, Ronen and Hecat.
You waited to see if they'd notice you, grateful that Sharp was facing the opposite direction of the door.
"I do hope they're alright," professor Garlick whispered, her eyes moving out of the window. "Being hunted by aurors, the Minister, dark wizards, that can't make you trust easily."
"They're a smart group and if Felix is with them, he would already have warned them of the dangers. He wouldn't let his daughter walk into a trap."
Professor Weasley looked his way. "His daughter?"
Sharp nodded. "Felix was a lot of things growing up, but they smoothed out as he became an adult. When he let me arrest him after he took her somewhere safe and showed up, I knew I was locking up the wrong person."
"Goodness," Professor Garlick whispered. "Those three seem to end up getting involved in dangerous matters. I hope they're okay."
Deciding they were your teachers, you revealed yourself. "I guess it's a good thing it's the weekend."
They looked towards me and seemed to relax a little.
"Thank goodness you're alright. Miss Sweeting told us that Draken cast cruico on you," Hecat said with pride in her voice.
"He did, though he though I was a cat at the time."
"A cat?" Garlick asked.
You nodded. "To sneak in, I became and animagus."
"You could have used the disillusionment charm-"
"No, aurors can see through it," Sharp said, eyes trained on you. "As an auror trainee, you knew you had to find another way."
"And the fox and the leopard that attacked Draken?" Professor Weasley asked, she took your silence as an admission. "I wouldn't register with the ministry just yet."
Yeah, you hadn't planned on it.
"So, Matilda told us everything you told her and said you had proof," professor Sharp said, drawing your attention. "I'd suggest you keep that safe, we've found the journal of Solomon Sallow. He explains the rest of the story. Perhaps you should give it to his nephew. He may find it illuminating."
You reached over and took it from him. "I'm actually kind of surprised all of you decided to help."
"If the Ministry is corrupted, all of us will fall with it," Professor Hecat replied, getting a few grunts of agreement. "Since they're using this goblin rebellion as a way to deflect people from their activities in the background and people are falling for it. Then it's up to us to stop this madness ourselves."
"You saying it out loud makes this feel heavier than it did before."
That earned you a small smile from a few of them. "That is the price we pay to see what others chose to ignore."
Taking a deep breath, you nodded as the door whipped open, getting you to spin, wand at the ready, but it was just Sebastian.
His eyes moved around at all the wands pointing his way, before he met your eyes.
"Thanks for scaring me half to death," you hissed as you and the professors lowered their arms.
"You were taking a long time. For all we knew, you could have been in danger."
"Even though I told you she wasn't," Felix shot back as he entered the house with Ominis behind him.
"Ah, I was wondering if I was going to see you again," professor Sharp said, drawing everyone's attention, before they started passing glances.
"You say that like you thought I was going to lead these kids, then abandon them."
Sharp chuckled. "Then it's a good thing I know better. Besides, you'd never leave your daughter in danger after going to Azkaban for her."
Felix's eyes hardened. "You can hardly arrest a child who was under the imperious curse when it happened."
"Can we not talk about this?" You snapped when those who didn't know, stared at you. "It's not something I like to remember."
"None of that was in the records you showed me," professor Weasley said, her tone going soft.
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sighed. "Fine. When I was eleven, my mother put me under that curse and forced me to kill who I thought was my father, to prove her loyalty to her boyfriend at the time. He's now the Minister. Now, you know everything, can we never talk about it? Ever. Again."
"Who killed your mother? You refused to speak of it before." Sharp asked, earning a glare.
"Minister Spavin."
"Well then, it seems we have a lot to contemplate," Professor Weasley said hurriedly as she moved over to you. "I think you'd find this more useful than anyone else at Hogwarts. And he asked for it to be given to you temporarily."
Confused, you took the box from her.
"It has a shrinking charm on it until you open it."
You nodded and slipped it into your bag.
"We should be going before people take notice of our absence," professor Garlick said softly. "And you should get back into hiding. People in town talk." 
One by one they apperated away, so Felix herded you into a group and did the same.
......
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sashimi-time · 2 years
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Completed Romance Manga/Manhwa/Manhua Recommendations (2)
I had more to recommend, and I couldn't add anymore pictures to the other post, so here's part 2! Let me know what you think! And your suggestions, if you have 'em!
Ghost Wife (135 chapters; Webtoon)
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Plot (AL): He’s a dark, uber-powerful god-level demon…who’s also really helpful around the house. Welcome to the unique world of Ghost Wife, where an average high school girl can go to sleep with normal teenage problems, only to wake up and find herself married to an over-protective demon with a creepy smile and an appetite for live cats.
Notes: I actually read this a long time ago now, but I do remember enjoying it a lot. I would wait for the next chapter very eagerly. It's cute, and I think it has a good balance between romance and horror, you know? Though, it's not really horror horror, if you get what I mean. I guess it's more creepy than scary?
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Miss Abbott and the Doctor (173 chapters; Webtoon)
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Plot (AP): Doctor Andreas Marino loves his quiet life, filled with work and simple amusements, and when the strange Miss Abbott arrives in his town he decides he doesn't like her at all. Unfortunately she's funny and quirky, has an uncommon past, and seems to enjoy getting him in trouble.
Notes: Holy shiz, this one is absolutely. freaking. adorable. I highly recommend. All the characters are interesting and entertaining. Plus, I think the art is really cute. I loved reading about Andreas and Cati and all the shenanigans they get caught up in. If you're looking for something light and sweet and funny, then I swear, this is for you!
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Light and Shadow (103 chapters; Lezhin and Tappytoon)
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Plot (AP): It’s a rude insult when lowly and headstrong servant Edna comes to marry Duke Eli, instead of the noble daughter he expected. But the ambitious maid hides an even bigger secret behind her obvious ruse – one that could change the kingdom’s very history. Can the two find freedom, redemption – and love – without drawing their swords on each other? Based on the hit novels.
Notes: It's really good! I think the story is amazing and the art is great. Definitely something you should read at least once if you haven't yet!
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Daytime Star (Webtoon; 72 + 5 Side Stories)
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Plot: A struggling, no-name actress of seven years, Yura Hwang. She barely lands a minor role in a movie that’s bound to be a success. A celebrity’s celebrity, Seunghyeon Kang, keeps running into Yura, who always seems to be shedding tears every time he comes across her. As these two reunite in the new movie, “Time,” will Yura finally seize the moment to make her name known? And will Seunghyeon figure out why he can’t get Yura out of his mind? Only time will tell.
Notes: So, ohmygosh. To be honest, the first thing that caught my attention with this manhwa is the art. I MEAN, HAVE YOU TAKEN A LOOK AT IT? IT'S PERFECTION.
And then I started reading it. And let me tell, I fell in love. I was hooked from the beginning until the very end. Yura is such an amazing female lead! I loved every bit about her. Also, raise all the ramance flags for our boi Seunghyeon, who made me swoon so much it was insane. Yura and Seunghyeon forver, my friends! Three cheers for this couple with their very healthy relationship!
Other than that, all the other characters are super adorable and lovable as well! You can't hate anyone in this! Except, of course, for the shitty ex. Of course, I also have to give my praise to both Jingyeong and Gwangsu, the managers of our two superstars. I loved the relationship each had with Yura and Seunghyeon. It was very fun to read about!
So if you want to read something light, heartwarming, and swoon-worthy with 101% amazing art, this one is for you~
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Three Lifetimes (Tapas; 82 Chapters)
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Plot: Juju fell in love with Jin Lei, the God of War, at first glance. The problem is, he doesn't seem to know she exists.
Determined to sweep him off his feet, she accompanies him down to the mortal realm as he takes on three trials to attain greater divinity. However, in those three lifetimes that are given to them, will she be able to make him love her back?
Notes: To be honest, I don't know. Lols. HOWEVER, I'm sure I loved it. The drawing of some of the sceneries is pure art, and the characters are absolutely adorable! Story wise…hmm. It was a really short read (for me, I binged it in a day lol). Some parts (for me) felt a bit rushed? But in a way that's okay? Like, it works? I do love the story between Jin Lei and Juju tho. They're really adorable in all three lifetimes, even if the third one made me cry so many tears at 1 AM. HAHAHA. I guess I would have loved it if there were more scenes of the two of them as deities, ya know? It's based on a novel, so I think I'll try reading that! But overall, if you want a cute, romantic read, you can try this one out! The romance is pretty straight forward, so there aren't any love triangle issues and misunderstandings to get annoyed about. Hehe. If you've read this before, please let me know your thoughts!
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Marry My Husband (58 Chapters + 10 Side Stories; LINE Webtoon)
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Plot: When Jiwon, a 37-year-old cancer patient, walks in on her husband and best friend, she realizes her whole life has been a lie. What’s worse, she dies a tragic death at the hands of her husband. Would things have been different if she had made different choices? Fortunately for Jiwon, she is given the chance to rewrite her fate when she is reincarnated as her younger self. This time, she vows to live a happy life. But first comes revenge. Her plan? To marry off her now former best friend to her lying, cheating husband.
Note: You know, I never get tired of reincarnation or regression stories. Plus points if there is face slapping involved and revenge! Things this manhwa provides! I absolutely loved reading this. I got hooked straight away! I remember eagerly awaiting each newly translated chapter in Webtoon and staying up late just to binge it lol. If it's not obvious yet, I loved the story. Jiwon is a total queen once she regresses, and I absolutely enjoyed reading her plan for her revenge on her so-called best friend. You got to hand it to the author though, for creating such an interesting antagonist with Sumin! Like, damn. Her mind works in interesting ways, and as much as she pissed the hell out of me, it was very fun to read her thought process and reactions. Minhwan is just an asshole. There's not much to say… I liked Ji-Hyuk. Maybe I'm just a sucker for male leads like him. Lol. But he's a total green flag! I enjoyed reading about him and how he did his best to help and support Jiwon. It was also very entertaining to see him try to win her over. And then the twists! Like, damn. To be honest, the twist surprised the hell out of me. It was new, and damn, it made me cry a lot of tears??? HAHAHA I enjoyed reading until the end. Though I have to say that some of the side stories bored me haha. Anyway, I loved the story and the characters, and I am most definitely excited to watch the drama adaptation once it's complete! Highly recommend that you try reading this!
ALSO, I JUST FOUND OUT THIS WAS A NOVEL ADAPTATION?? WUT
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I'm still feeling pretty anxious (absolutely terrified honestly, lol), so I think I'll make a list of pros and cons of (moving into) our new apartment.
pros:
we can get cats (!!!)
we'll have one more room, so we can have a separate office
there's a balcony (!!)
.. which is also great for the cats (I've looked at those cat nets and they seem like a good option to make it safe for them so they can't get out)
there's a garden that we could use if we wanted
the people who own the house also live there. which I've heard often isn't great, but tbh our neighbour has used our landlord as a threat so many times that I think I prefer that.
we can't see or hear the highway there. we live in a pretty quiet village now, but the highway is very close and the noise is constant when the windows are open
our kitchen is above the owners' kitchen. which means we can actually use it at night now!! at the moment I'm terrified every time I open a fucking drawer or anything like that.
I've already told them to please just immediately tell us if they don't like something we do, because I don't mind fixing something, I just don't like constantly having to worry because our neighbour just waits weeks/months to finally bring stuff up and when she does she's so fucking angry about it. like bitch we could have solved this ages ago if you had just (nicely) said something 🙄
we'll get away from our downstairs neighbour. yeah, I'm really extremely happy about that. she's made my life miserable for a year and now I don't have to be nice to her anymore 💖
the bathroom isn't a disgusting beige/green colour and it actually has storage
our old apartment is on the second floor and there's a lot of stairs (and I have problems with my feet and legs so that really sucks sometimes), the new one is on the first floor
there's a dishwasher
our washing machine will be in our apartment instead of in the basement (carrying laundry up and down all those stairs sucks, having to hang it up to dry where the neighbours can see it still feels weird to me, and I'll finally be able to do laundry myself again - here I'm too scared.)
cons
rent is a bit more expensive - but my husband's new job pays a little more so it's basically the same
we haven't signed a lease yet so I'm anxious about that. we do have a firm verbal offer though and my brother was there too so there's a witness lol. I don't know, I just need things in writing to feel safe
we might have to keep paying rent for our current apartment for three months. we haven't talked to our landlord yet - I want to wait until my husband gives the new landlord some paperwork (hopefully) tomorrow - maybe if we can find someone else who will move in earlier than that we might get out of the 3 months notice period. though I've read that landlords don't have to accept that. I don't see why she wouldn't agree to that, but I also thought she'd let us get cats, so what do I know lol
it's in a different state, which means my student bus ticket doesn't work there. though my husband will still take the bus to work, so I'll have the car and it shouldn't be a problem
it's another village that is very small and where I don't know anyone. though that doesn't really bother me that much. and I think we might get along with our new landlords, the guy is a bit strange and very talkative (and I think kind of racist... idk some things he said were weird) but the wife seems really sweet
I don't like change. I mean. I do. but it fucking terrifies me. I've only just gotten used to our apartment after a year of living here, so it sucks to have to start over. but I think in the long run it'll probably be better. it can't really be much worse.
we'll have to move all our stuff and I hate that so much. it was so much work last time. but maybe it'll be a bit easier now - before, most of my things were stored in my brother's attic, so it was much harder to figure out what we have, what we need etc. and we also had to buy a lot of furniture. that'll be easier this time
it's another attic apartment, which I really don't like. I hate sloped ceilings and especially the heat in summer. but the ceilings aren't too bad, and we did alright this summer so I think it should be okay. I think having a balcony should also make the heat a bit more tolerable
hm. I think that's pretty good overall. I'm still really stressed out about this whole thing but I just have to get through the next month. I just have to get through it. I don't have to do everything perfectly, I just need to survive. then it'll get easier again. it'll take a while, I'll feel that gross sense of 'I don't know what I'm doing here, I don't belong here, why am I here' for a while (I don't know if that's normal but that's how I feel whenever I'm staying in a place I haven't been in before. it feels very bad and terrifying.) but it'll pass. maybe it'll be better then.
I really haven't been happy here at all. I've been trying, I've done everything I could to make it better - we had just started rearranging everything and I was actually kind of pleased with how that was going. but overall I don't like it here. so yeah, I think I'm feeling cautiously optimistic (and very very scared)
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baxterthecat · 1 year
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Baxter's Story
I recently found myself wanting (needing) a kitty again after well over a decade, having not having my own cat for well over a decade. I started hitting up Petfinder to look through what the wider Columbus area had to offer. I bookmarked about 20, whittled it down to three, and finally decided to put an application in to see two adult black cats, five or younger, both special-needs.
I have had my fill over the last 20 years when it comes to kittens (IYKYK). I didn't mind young adults, but I really wanted some cats that had grown out of (most) of some of the worst kitten behavior. In-fact, I was also looking at other hard-to-adopt cats such as seniors, bonded pairs, black cats, and FIV+ cats. For my return to cat daddyhood, I wanted to be very open. My main requirements were that the potential cat should be friendly and good with other cats. I find that if you have those two you'll typically find a lovebug just waiting for attention.
As a quick aside for FIV, you can read more about it here. The virus is unique to cats-only and can't be transmitted to people. When I adopted Baxter though, I fully understood that there could be a day (hopefully far-far-off) where he's going to need a lot of vet visits and potentially end-of-life care. I am extremely honored to give him the most enriching life I can until he's no longer with us. I'll explain why in a bit.
As it turns out, one of the kitties I was looking to adopt wasn't quite ready to be adopted. But, I still got to meet Baxter. It was obvious he was very attached to his foster mom (and her can of food), but he wasn't mean or avoiding me. He'd let me pet him, hold him for a moment. I trusted his foster mom that he was truly a friendly kitty that just needed time to adjust to me. I signed the paperwork and paid the fee. Baxter is now my fur-child, and he's going to be a very spoiled kitty. For those curious, I went through Buckey Pet Partners.
He's about three and solid black (except his lonely stars of white that show up every so often in his coat). It's clear he's still growing back hair from a vet visit. (Likely from at least a neuter, gauging from the state of his undercarriage.) He's got pale green eyes that sometimes go to emeralds. He's about average sized for a housecat, but I have a feeling he's not quite done growing yet. (Something about the paws tell me he's going to get a bit bigger.)
He was found at the Quarry Trails here in Columbus/Ohio. His original dad wanted to keep him, but his wife said no. I was told he was distraught to give Baxter up, so I'm going to give this handsome kitty the best life I can offer.
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