#honest to god though it’s. the most realistic way of explaining why he jumps to the assumption that he must date or kiss a woman or whatever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mxvladdy · 3 years

Note

Ey, could you make food source reactions for Mammon & Levi like you did with the others?

I've read it like 3 times now, they're all so sweet and believable you did a great job!

You got it Fam! Glad you like them so much lol. (I got a lot more angsty with Mammon than I thought I would but I love him sooooo)

Mammon

This poor man. He gets to spend so little time alone with you. He has to make every second count. Between the hustling, modeling, and running from Lucifer, he’s a pretty busy guy.

So he plans date nights. Just you, him, and his leather couch. Ya ain’t goin’ nowhere, ya hear? He looks forward to this every month. He pins it on his calendar too just so he doesn’t double book himself.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Just cause he plans this doesn’t mean he necessarily has a plan. Not that you care. Most of his activities turn into trouble anyway, even when he is not trying.

Sometimes he teaches you how to play cards (also shows you human ways to cheat-just in case you need it). The hours are spent pleasantly sitting in his lap while he teaches you how to count cards.

But, most nights, he just wants to talk. He enjoys his time with you. You and him cuddling and chatting away the hours before passing out for the night.

He has a lot of things he wants to know about you. To him, he feels like if he knows you better than the other brothers he’s won.

Won what? Idk, your affection? Approval? He already has it, but he is insecure about his place in your heart regardless.

This evening starts out like any other. Mammon dashing to the kitchens to pilfer some snacks and drinks before Beel can steal them all, and you bring your cute self over to his room.

You two toss back a few drinks and spend some time looking over his latest photo shoots before going on to the main event. Tonight you brought one of your favorite human card games. It was like 20 questions, but some questions were more risque than others. Was it meant for more than two players? Yes, but whatever- Mammon wants to play it so you are.

You both are relaxed and drowsy by the time you start playing. Your stomachs are full of junk, and the morning moons are just on the horizon. It’s the perfect mixture for loose lips and secrets, before falling asleep in each other's arms.

You pick easy cards first, jumping from silly innocent questions to one that made him blush from ear to ear. The hours pass quickly and Mammon’s answers become more slurred and accented as he tires out.

He was on the verge of sleep when you ask, “What’s your favorite dish?”

It was a slip of the tongue, a long-lost memory pulled up from the dregs of his exhausted mind. He remembers a savory dish Barbatos use to make way back when. He can still smell the savory smoky spices mixing with the fresh vegetables and meat- Oh shit.

He feels you stiffen and he ain’t sleepy anymore, that’s for sure. Immediately up and apologizes. He stumbles over himself in his haste to explain himself.

You spend the rest of the evening with him in your arms trying to comfort him as he tearfully swears he hasn’t eaten a person in a couple of hundred years.

Mini Fic

He regrets it the moment the words slip out. His sleepy remark hangs out in the chilly air of his room. He feels you jerk in his arms as if punched. “Shit! I-I didn’t mean.” Mouth agape, he backtracks, tongue working faster than his overtaxed brain. He looks down at your head on his chest.

Your eyes are wide. Their surprise reflected in the bright blue moonlight. His heart sinks to his stomach. Gods, he ruined it. “I’m sorry- I.” Pushing you off of his chest he goes to grab his shirt and redress, ignoring the prickling heat growing at the corner of his eyes. He could sleep somewhere else tonight. You could have the room if you wanted, or at least give you a minute to flee in terror from the demon that masqueraded as your friend. He can’t look at you. Hells, he was too ashamed to even glance in your direction. What kind of idiot let’s slip that? They even had a council meeting about this very thing before you arrived.

So lost in his panic he doesn’t notice you trying to get his attention. It wasn’t until you forcefully grab his arm did he hear you. “It’s ok Mammon.” You engulf him in your warm and comforting scent. Strong arms dragging him back to the crumpled sheets of his bed. Your soft fingers wipe at the silent tears streaking down his cheeks.

He dislodges himself from your light grasp to rub at his own eyes. “How can ya’ say that?” Where was your sense of self-preservation? Ain’t humans supposed to be aware of such dangers? The irony wasn’t lost on him though. Being your ‘protector’ and all.

You shuffle closer, hellbent on comforting. His pack mark hums gently on his chest when you touch it. As much as his body wanted to run, your pact mark cemented him to his seat. He sits while you fuss over him slowly breathing through his mouth to calm his racing heart. He can’t help but drift closer to you when he feels your hand on the top of his head. When had he become so weak for you?

“Well-How can I not?” You shrug. He closes his eyes when you start ruffling his fringe. “You’ve been nothing but sweet to me. Yes, you have,” You cut him off firmly before he can object. “Always my number one anyway.” That pulls a wet chuckle from your demon. His eyes clear up at your admission. “I trust you Mammon, honestly. I mean, I kinda knew that you’ve probably eaten a human or two in your life. Knowing, and knowing are more different than I thought.”

Mammon cages you in his arms, his nose brushing along your neck and jawline. “Damn-.” He huffs covering you in his warm body, arms tight around your sides. “I’m sorry. I ruined tonight.” Mammon sighs into your skin.

You hug him back. “Nonsense, if you want to get technical I think you won this game. I can’t top that answer.” You push away with a wide yawn. “Now can we go back to bed?” With a nod, he flops over pulling you down with him. You bully your way into his arms again. Sighing constantly you snuggle in for the night, ready to drift off. His eyelids began to feel heavy again too. Your soft weight on him like a security blanket. He listens to your slowly beating heart, matching his breathing to yours. The rhythmic thumps working to calm him better than his noise machine. He basks in your presence, rubbing his broad hand down your back for a moment before you speak again.

“Hey, Mammon.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think I would taste good?”

Leviathan

Awkward boy. Of course, he has had his fair share of humans. Not particularly his favorite through. A lot of the time it wasn’t on purpose. His demon form is big and sometimes more than just fish and other demons get swallowed up. Course when that happened, they weren’t exactly fresh either. Bleh-just thinking about it makes his stomach turn.

No, he never got a taste for it, even when it was served in the royal palace. The memories of the sea are still pretty vivid. It never really crosses his mind anymore. Till you bring it up.

He invites you over for a game night. A new VR game he had been saving up for just dropped and he had to play it with you.

It was a horror stealth game. Heavy on critical thinking and solving puzzles in real-time.

Your two characters were on a race against time against a flesh eating cult that had invaded a small village. He thought it was a fun concept and you both liked horror games. He didn’t notice how quiet you had gotten until you had set your controller down.

You ask during a loading screen after a pretty graphic cut scene of a npc getting caught. How realistic was that cut scene? Had he ever eaten a human before?

Boy is a brighter pink than Ruri-chan’s signature outfit (and twice as cute lbr)

He gets so flustered that he misses the start of the next round and gets you both eaten.

He doesn’t take conflict well. Like at all. He much rather slink off into his fish tank and hide than answer you. In fact, that sounds like an excellent idea.

He slithers back out of his tank hours later thinking you had left or found a better brother to hang out with. Yucky people eaters like him aren’t good company for humans.

You jump him the minute his feet are back on solid ground. Have an answer now you must! Yrssss.

Mini Fic

“L-Let go!” Levi shrieks, caught in your sneak attack. He locks up when you jump him, all four of your limbs wrapping around his soaking body like an octopus.

“No!” You squeeze him harder taking full advantage of the fact that he won’t remove you himself. You feel the heat of his blush through his soaked clothes as you cling closer. If he could blush any harder you were pretty sure steam would be wafting off of him.

“Why do you want to know anyway?” He wiggles gently, trying to loosen your tight grip.

“Morbid curiosity.” Well, at least you were honest. He was still going to say no, you didn’t need to know that about him. He opens his mouth to shut you down but makes the mistake of looking at you. The words die when he catches the pout growing on your face. Oh no- his one weakness. Your way your lower lip pops out adorably, accompanied by slightly puffed-out cheeks. It was a one-two punch to his defenses.

“I-they weren’t on purpose.” He pleads. Nevermore in his life did he wish he could turn into a mist-like his brother. He feels you slip off of him. Your bare feet don’t make a sound on his carpeted floor. “It just happened sometimes.” He admits. You accept it for a few seconds before his words fully hit you.

“Wait? How do you accidentally eat someone?” You ask incredulously. “All though- that’s something Beel might do.” You ponder the logistics and step back to give him some space.

He rights himself, wicking the moisture from his coat and pants with magic until he is completely dry again. You start asking a dozen more questions in rapid fire. It was enough to make his head spin. You were too curious for your own good. “Ever heard of basking whales?”

You blink.

Levi sighs and waves a hand to himself. “When I lived in the ocean… I’m big ya know. I kinda would just open my mouth and swallow. Whatever I caught I ate.” He waits for you to get the jest. Most of the time it was smaller fish and aquatic mammals. When a demon encroached on his territory he would eat them too. The dead were meant for his army, but sometimes they got sucked into.

Instead of nodding in understatement, you cover your mouth with the palm of your hand and snort. His eyes grow big and his blush turns brighter. You were spending way too much time with Asmo. “No-Not like that!” His flailing only makes you laugh harder. Great, as if he didn’t want to die of embarrassment already.

“Well word it better, nerd.” You laugh retreating back to the mound of pillows you claimed for gaming, VR headset in hand. “Come on, we have to start over now- thanks to someone.”

“You started it!” Levi shoots back grabbing up his gear as well. He fiddles with it for a moment before glancing back at you. You were oblivious to inner turmoil over this admission. A naval admiral was one thing. Humans had them too, that wasn’t too much for you to comprehend. Being a devil was easy enough to understand too, at least in his mind. But eating people? Shouldn’t you be more concerned? “So-that’s it?”

You look up questioningly. “What’s it?”

He raises a purple brow. “You have nothing else to say? I just admitted to eating people!”

“Not really.” You shrug. “I can’t get too pressed about it. It’s not like you are human. I’m like what-at the bottom of the food chain to you, right?” Levi nods. “See! So no point stressing over it. ‘Sides, you haven’t munched on me yet.” You turn your attention back to the screen, flicking your controller to wake his flat-screen back up. “Unless~” He gulps at the sly eyebrow wiggle you throw at him, the shit eating grin that accompanied it only made him worry. “Perhaps you just have an appetite for seamen.”

Your peals of laughter mix with his shrill yelps of objection, as he tackles you. His previous worries were completely forgotten by your teasing.

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

tea and whiskey {jack daniels x reader} - 6

summary: despite his best efforts, it appears as though you're completely slipping through jack's fingers. it appears as though he has no choice but to put everything out on the table in a last ditch attempt to keep you by his side. {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, mentions of death

this one's a bit of a rollercoaster, but i promise it's fun <3

- jazz xx

You'd told Jack that things between you were fine.

They didn't feel as much.

You had meant it when you'd said it - it was just that the more you thought about it and the more you pondered on your concerns, the more worried you became. Did you even know Jack Daniels at all? His mysteriousness had been attractive at first but the closer you got to him, the more you found yourself wanting to hold him at an arm's length until you had your answers. When the situation between you had been a co-workers-with-benefits affair, it hadn't mattered so much. But now, you'd agreed it was something more intense, something more meaningful. Was it unfair to think that you deserved to know a little more? To get a more substance than just it's fine, trust me?

Whilst you hadn't wanted it to get in the ways of things, you couldn't help it. It hadn't changed anything the first few days after your conversation about where you stood, or about his seeming vendetta against Ginger, but the more you thought about it, the more it got to you. It had been almost 2 weeks since then, and you'd spent most of the second one lying to him. Telling him you had to call Eggsy, or your mum, or that you had to work late to get some paperwork done for Merlin.

Tonight had been no different - it was a Friday, the last six of which you had spent at Jack's. You'd given him some ridiculous waffle about timezones and reporting to the Kingsman. He had seemed to believe it; if he didn't, he'd chosen not to comment on it.

You were sat in your shared office, heels kicked to one side and feet propped up on the table. There was a glass of wine in one hand and your phone in the other (you were exchanging memes with Eggsy), and an episode of the The Crown playing on your computer. It was a nice way of getting your mind off of the situation with Jack, and the fact that you had a mountain of Calahan-related paperwork.

"So, this is the important meeting that you ditched me for?"

You froze at the sound of Jack's voice. He was leant against the doorway, arms folded over his chest and a look on his face that didn't seem too far off of pissed. Your first instinct was to lie, but the urge quickly faded. What was the point? He'd already caught you in one. Might as well just rip it off like a band-aid.

"I lied."

"That's clear as fucking day." Jack shot back. "Am I boring you all of a sudden?"

"Jack." You sighed. "I just needed some space to think."

"I thought we were good?" His brown eyes fell to the floor. "What's with all the lying? I admire your brutal honesty."

"I was only brutally honest with people I didn't mind hurting." You paused your laptop, pulling your feet down from the desk. "I care about you and I don't want to hurt you-"

"- I have pretty thick skin." He cut you off. "Be honest - you have my blessing."

"I thought I was okay with how intense things were getting," you began. "But the more, I think about it, the more I'm not sure."

Jack's face fell. "That's why you've suddenly been distant these past two weeks, huh?"

"Yeah." You nodded.

"What brought this on?"

You were silent.

"I know." Jack sighed. "It's the thing with Ginger, isn't it?"

"Not just that." You said. "You asked me to trust you and I agreed to, but I'm not sure I do."

"What have I ever done to make you not trust me?"

"Nothing, but that's my problem." You replied. "This is all on me."

"It sure as hell is." He sniffed. "If you want space, I'll give you space. Just don't count on me to be here when you get back."

The tension in Champ's office the following morning was almost fucking suffocating.

The poor man had no idea what had gone down between the two of you. Heck, even you were struggling to understand it. You'd got yourself into situations before with your tendency to overthink, but this one might have taken the cake. Relationships - or whatever the hell you and Jack had going on - had never been your area of expertise, and you had no idea how to navigate your situation. It had seemed like a good idea to act on your doubt and be honest with him, but now you were just worried that you'd ruined it.

"You two are making excellent progress with your mission to get Calahan." Champ said.

"Thank you, sir." Jack nodded.

"We need to discuss the matter of when you catch him."

"I appreciate your faith in us, but if we catch him, rather than when we catch him might be a little more realistic." You replied.

"I'm not certain of many things, but I am absolutely sure that you and Jack have this in the bag." Champ shot back. "And when you do, I'm afraid there is only room for one name on the arrest forms."

You sat up in your seat. "What do you mean?"

"I know that you two have made a completely join effort in this matter." He began. "But as far as Interpol, and every international agency has seen it, only one person's name can be on the paperwork."

"But we can both take credit, right?" You urged. "Surely, they can recognise us both for our work."

"I'm afraid not, Percy." Champ sighed. "The paperwork can only be processed under one name-"

"- why?" Jack cut him off. "I mean, why, sir?"

"Traditionally, only one agent would go into the field, to keep the casualties as low as possible." He explained. "Things have changed in practice but on paper, things still stand."

"So what are we meant to do?" You asked.

"You'll have to decide between yourselves who gets that recognition." He replied.

"Right." You murmured and stood up. "Thank you, sir."

Champ gave you a nod. "And you, agent. I'm sorry it has to be this way."

Me too, you thought.

You stalked out of Champ's office, Jack hot on your heels. If things had been a little tense before, they were going to be strangling now. The cowboy was already hurt by your revelation from the night before, and now, that was only going to get worst, because there was no way in hell that you were about to give the reins over to him. You'd make it clear from day one that your job came first, so that shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone.

Heels clicking loudly against the floor, you sped up slightly in an attempt to lose him. It had been foolish, though, because before you could sprint into the ladies' room, Jack grabbed you by the arm and pulled you to the side.

"Lying to me and running away from me?" He asked. "You're breaking my fucking heart, baby."

You swatted his hand away and puffed out your chest. "I'm taking credit for Calahan."

Jack thinned his eyes at you. "We should talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about." You said. "I chased his ass all the across the Atlanic and I've been working on this project longer than you. Personal feelings aside, it makes sense."

"It sounds like you're saying you've done most the work."

"That is what I'm saying."

"I've done most the physical work." He shot back. "The chasing, the jumping over walls, the field work."

"None of which you could have done without me."

"Is this because of what I said last night? Are you mad?" He asked.

"No, I'm mad because you know how much this means to me!" You shoved him. "A win like this is all I've ever wanted. You know that!"

"It means a lot to me too!"

"I am putting my name on those papers." You snapped. "I've spent my whole life living in the fucking shadows at Kingsman and I'm tired of it. This is my win."

"With an attitude like that, I don't blame the damn redcoats for wanting to keep you in the shadows."

Your mouth fell open. If that had come from anyone else, you could have dealt with it. But Jack? The man who had always encouraged and loved your fire? The man you'd opened up to about how suffocated you felt at Kingsman? It was though he'd thrown your trust right back in your face.

"Wait, I didn't mean that-"

"- fuck you, Jack."

Drinking was, essentially, the thing that had gotten you into this whole situation in the first place. It was this very bar, in fact.

It was beyond you why you'd gone to Jack's favourite cowboy bar to simmer; probably because it was the closest thing you could get to actually being in his presence right now. Which was quite funny, because if you were in his presence, you no doubt would have decked him right there and then. His stupid fucking words were playing on a loop in your head, and it felt like a punch to your gut every time they circled back around your pre-fontal cortex.

You could have called Eggsy and vented to him, but that would involve recounting the whole story to him. He'd want to whoop Jack's ass for going near you in the first place, and eject him into outer space entirely for his petty jab. God, you missed your best friend.

Despite your anger, you hadn't even drank that much. Maybe a beer, or three - way below the amount you needed to even get tipsy. Drunken rage barely did you favours at the best of times, and right now was definitely the worst of times. It was just that sitting in a bar was a much better alternative to wallowing in your pity, alone in your larger-than-life apartment.

You sighed and took another sip of your drink, glancing over at your phone. There were three texts from Jack; a please call me, a I'll explain everything and a I fucked up, I know. You couldn't help but snort - what reason did he even have for talking to you that way?

With a twenty tossed on the bar and an empty glass, you shrugged your jacket on and began the walk back to your apartment. The air was cold and everyone was rushing around you to get back to their own respective homes. You had never wanted more in your life to go back to yours - your home in London. The one filled with pictures of you and your family, with memories of dumb sleepovers with Eggsy and late nights with your favourite films.

"So you're stalking me now?"

You could't muster up any other words when you saw Jack waiting by your door. Apparently his ignored texts and calls hadn't been a big enough sign.

"I didn't know where you were." Jack murmured.

"I was out." You shoved your way past him. "You can go now."

"We need to talk."

"Not right now." You groaned. "I'm tired, no thanks to you."

"I don't like when things are like this." He continued, following you inside as you unlocked the door. "I can't stand the idea of you being mad at me."

"So why do you do shit that makes me mad?" You shot back.

Jack sighed, leaning against your kitchen earlier. "I shouldn't have said what I did earlier. I was hurt-"

"- you were hurt?!" You snorted in disbelief.

"It fucking killed me when you said that you didn't trust me, sugar." He admitted. "I get why. I've been holding a lot of stuff back from you and I...I don't think it'll excuse my behaviour, but it might at least give you a reason."

"Okay." You murmured.

"I've barely told anyone this, but I trust you." He reached out and took your hands in his. "It's a lot."

"Jack, you don't have to-"

"- I used to be married." He cut you off. You froze at his words. "Her name was Georgia, and we'd been in love since high-school."

"I..." you trailed off. "Used to be?"

"She was killed in a shoot-out during a robbery." Jack's voice wavered slightly. "She was pregnant at the time. I lost two people that day."

"Shit." You murmured. "I'm sorry, Jack."

"It's fine." He replied. "Not your fault, sweetheart."

"Who else knows?"

"Ginger." He said. "She was a friend of mine, long before we were at Statesman. Georgia's best friend, too."

"You're trying to protect her, aren't you?" You glanced up, eyes meeting. "By keeping her out the field?"

"It's a shitty excuse." He half-heartedly shrugged. "She's all I have left of Georgia. The only person who really shares my pain."

Jack was right -- it hadn't been an excuse, but it was an explanation. You couldn't even begin to get your head around the kind of pain he must have felt then, or even the kind he felt now. You'd had weeks worth of deep conversations and late-night talks but he had never, ever even remotely mentioned Georgia, or his unborn child. You couldn't blame him for that. Not in the slightest.

You were struggling to find the words, really. A thousand new layers had just been added to a man you were already struggling to understand.

"That must be a real weight on your shoulders."

"It is." Jack nodded. "But it lifts slightly when I'm with you."

"Really?" You asked quietly.

"Completely." He countered. "That's all I've wanted my entire life -- to feel again, and I do with you."

"That's deep." You tried to crack a joke, to lighten the mood.

"Even if this ends when you go back to London, I'm still grateful." He continued. "You gave me that, so I should give you what you've always wanted."

"A real-life Batmobile?"

Jack snorted, despite the emotional atmosphere. "Your name will have to go on those papers. It should never have even been a question."

"Jack, I-"

"- that's all there is to say." He shook his head. "There'll be other arrests and missions, but I'll never find someone like you."

Without anything to say, you placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled him into a kiss. That in itself said everything you needed to- thank you, I'm sorry, maybe you don't suck that much, etc. The entire conversation marked a definitive shift in your relationship, and even though it was one that neither of you could quite work out, that didn't matter. You'd thrown yourself back into the deep end, even though you'd been so hell-bent on breaking to the surface just hours earlier.

There was no doubt that it would only complicated the whole let's not fall in love promise you'd made -- but that was something to worry about later, right?

taglist: @b0nnyzz @xremember-me-notx @somenerdyuser @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @javisjeanjacket @phoenixhalliwell @no-droids-on-sunday @paintballkid711 @waatermelon-sugaar @hepburnwritess @haileyybird @xjaywritesx @jabbajambler @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @welcometothepedroverse @wickedmuse

#jack daniels x reader #jack daniels imagine #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey imagine #jack daniels x female reader #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons #agent whiskey #kingsman imagines

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

you shine, i'll shine for you

pairing: alina starkov/genya safin, background nina zenik/matthias helvar

fandom: shadow and bone (tv)

rating: general

word count: 5163

warning: referenced cheating, swearing

summary: Genya thought she’d seen it all, until today, where a young person her age rushes through the door and approaches her with a strange question, “What sort of flowers do you get to tell someone to go fuck themselves?” (flower shop au)

(a fluffy au that’s been loooong underway !! inspired by this post, naturally. had a bit too much fun searching up flower meanings as well so... hope you enjoy!)

read on ao3

Genya believes flowers speak their own language.

They show love, adoration, and everything in between, and there’s a reason they’re used for most special occasions, she thinks; although a staple gift when you barely know someone, they’re also an invitation to get to know someone better.

Like Nina and Matthias. It didn’t surprise her in the least that he wanted to ask Nina out, alas, he asked Genya for help on the bouquet, since he just started. The look on her friend’s face when she told her about their fast date was too precious.

And naturally, this is why she opened her little flower shop in the first place. She loved the area, homely and cozy, the atmosphere and the residents.

She’s helped their clients with gifts for any situation you could think of; a last minute anniversary gift, flower arrangements for that big fairytale wedding, the perfect Mother’s Day bouquet, and the businessman getting flowers for his beloved sister’s grave touched her deeply.

Genya thought she’d seen it all, until today, where a young person her age rushes through the door and approaches her with a strange question, “What sort of flowers do you get to tell someone to go fuck themselves?”

She’s simply baffled by the request.

The client’s got restless hands and fire in their eyes, dark hair in a braided bun and wearing a baby blue dress, neck and ears dressed with gold jewelry and a matching septum piercing. They’re almost glowing in the late autumn sun, to be completely honest.

In fact, they’re already reaching for their purse, while Genya tries to work through her confusion and do her best - this is an assignment like any other, she reminds herself, this is her job.

“Oh, uh, depends on the occasion, really…” she starts, and since the customer in front of her curses themself as they find their wallet, the clear anger on their face intensifying, she figures she’ll need to keep her cool, “If I may ask?”

In customer service you’ll have to deal with rude clientele, God knows Genya has, and although this person in no way seems like that type of person, she still keeps it a priority to not upset them anymore than someone else already has.

She smiles, giving them less of her staple customer service smile, more a hesitant smile because the client also sniffs, and wipes their eyes rather stubbornly before looking back at her.

They’re also more beautiful than sunflowers in bloom, that much is obvious. But someone’s hurt them, and it makes Genya’s heart ache for them with a stinging kind of certainty.

“Sure,” they reply, sniffling again, “My boyfriend’s cheated on me for the second time.”

Second time? Dear God.

Genya doesn’t even know this man, but she does know he’s an asshole, mind the language. She’s sure she must look shocked, because the client chuckles bitterly, clutching their wallet a bit tighter.

“I just need him to fuck off for good. It’s long overdue, really.”

She decides to smile again, nodding, hoping she’s conveying her sympathy right, “I understand.”

And since she gets a timid smile back, albeit still with clenched fists down their side, it makes Genya a little more sure of herself again. If the person wasn’t pretty before, they’re even prettier now. She mentally curses whoever this man is for making them this angry, and making them cry. No one deserves that, but especially not them, Genya thinks.

Luckily it’s a Monday, a slow day for flower sales, and they’re the only customer inside, so she’s reaching for her encyclopedia immediately.

“I do know a bit about flower meanings,” she explains to them, “It’s not common knowledge, but I got a few ideas.”

The client nods, satisfied, and their eyes turn a little less angry and more curious.

“What’s your budget?” she asks while flickering through the pages, and the person in front of her takes less than a second to answer, “The biggest you got, he- We were supposed to go to Paris, so I’ve been saving up. Got some money to blow.”

What a fucking douchebag. Again, excuse the language, but this really sounds like the sort of person who’s drink she would gladly spit in. She might be really excited for this bouquet, now. Serves him right.

Everything that jumps to her mind should be in stock, actually. Genya’s never had to look up negative meanings to the flowers before, admittedly, but she does find some scribbled notes in what appears to be Nina’s handwriting next to the black roses. Revenge roses. Okay, maybe a bit too sinister, but she’ll keep them in mind.

She finds herself moving out behind the counter before she knows it, and when she picks up the first bunch she notices her client looking over her shoulder in an adorable kind of confusion, so Genya speaks up, “These are yellow carnations, they signal disappointment.”

They nod again, the small smile on their lips growing just an inch brighter. Their hands seem more relaxed, she finds herself noticing.

“Perfect,” they approve, “Is there a hate flower, you think?”

The bluntness no longer surprises her, and since the client huffs at themselves, Genya returns the smile with more certainty. Fair enough, she decides.

“Yes, surprisingly enough,” she chuckles, “Orange lilies. I also have foxglove for insincerity?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“I thought so,” Genya likes this person, she decides, probably way more than she should for a complete stranger, but… can you blame her?

She likes the guts it takes to make a bouquet like this, to be honest. And it’s like they keep getting prettier and prettier the more Genya looks at them, is that crazy? Probably. Matthias would roll his eyes at her, but she and Nina both know how cheesy he actually is, so whatever.

This client is also getting a hate bouquet for a soon-to-be-ex, though, so she’s real with herself, she can’t allow herself to get attached or anything. Would be unprofessional, regardless, but she can admire them anyway, right?

“What else, what else…” Genya wanders a bit more, her client following in tow, she’s got the centerpieces, but the white of this flower would add nicely to the overall look, “Meadowsweet! It, uh, it stands for uselessness.”

The person in front of her lights even more up at the suggestion. She’s thrilled, because honestly, not only helping them but also maybe, possibly impressing this client is suddenly very important to her.

“Alright, I think that’ll do nicely,” she finally tells them, writing the names and price ranges down on her notepad. “Unless you want to add some geraniums, too?” The customer looks at the sample she shows them, biting their lip in contemplation.

“It’s beautiful,” they confess.

“It is,” she agrees, “But it also signals stupidity.”

They laugh at that, a ringing sound like bells or… butterfly wings, maybe. This is just about making Genya’s whole week right now.

“Yeah, I need those.”

And so it’s decided, and she returns to her counter with the notes and shows the client the different bouquet sizes. She figures they might need a card, too, “I don’t have any ‘Fuck you’ cards, unfortunately. Will a blank one be alright?”

They nod, more eager than ever.

“Actually,” they’re running their finger over the sheet with the sizes before looking back at Genya again, “I know this is a big ask, but I was gonna leave the bouquet at his office. Do you think… we could, maybe, cover his desk in these flowers?”

Yet another suggestion that has her standing wide-eyed.

The client chuckles at themself again and fumbles a strand of hair behind their ear, “I’ll pay whatever it costs, I promise. If it’s even possible, that is.”

Genya considers this, and well, it’s definitely possible, they’ve got enough stock for it. The same thing as decorating a chapel for a wedding, sort of, but on a smaller scale. It’s doable.

“I do think my delivery guy can carry it, actually,” she replies, hoping Matthias won’t ask too many questions, but oh well, “We would need entry to the building, though-”

“I have the keys.”

“Oh.”

This person is well prepared. Genya loves it.

“It’s just really a matter of how many bouquets will be needed…” she’s thinking hard, an office cubicle is what she imagines the client is talking about, not too hard to fill up, realistically, “20? Will that be plenty?”

They full-on grin, “God, yes. Make it 22. I, uh, I got cash.”

And so it’s sorted, and a promise of scheduling the delivery for Wednesday, said soon-to-be-ex’s next work day, is settled. Matthias delivers the flowers a little before 8, the customer lets him in and they carry the load together, foolproof plan, Genya’s sure. “This is his number, Matthias Helvar, if you have any trouble, running late or getting into the building, whatever it may be.”

“Thank you so much for this, seriously,” they’re smiling almost from ear to ear, and honestly, she’s a little embarrassed that making this particular person as happy as they appear to be is making her feel so… warm? “This is perfect. I cannot wait to see his face. And walk away.”

It’s a funny sort of bonding experience, or feels like it, less than a transaction.

Before the client leaves, Genya gets their contact information in return, and an excited wave as the doorbell rings them out. Alina Starkov, the card says, and she/they pronouns right underneath.

She wonders if she’ll ever see them again. She doubts it. But she hopes she’s wrong.

Genya does, in fact, see a particular client again, one that for some reason stays on her mind after the delivery is done and in the five weeks till she sees them again, embarrassingly enough.

Matthias didn’t ask a lot of questions, besides the wide eyes and then looking the happiest she’s seen him since Nina kissed him for the first time. He didn’t need convincing, to put it simply.

“Whoever this Alina is, they got some guts,” he laughed to her while they were packaging all those flowers for him, “Practically covered our expenses for the month.”

That’s true, it’s lovely, that pure luck that sometimes hits them like a flood.

She’s over the moon, but of course, she doesn’t mention the part of it being because of that person’s bright smile replacing dried tear stains, and how the change made Genya feel like she’s never done anything more important than making her happy. God, Safin, Nina is rubbing off on you.

The boy lets her know the delivery went smoothly, and that Alina thanked him profusely, but that’s as much as she knows before the bell rings on a late Thursday and Nina’s voice calls from the front of house and reaches to the back where Genya is currently cutting stems.

She dries off her hands in their signature lavender apron - credit to Nina for that, as well - you’d be surprised how dirty a day’s work can get, and Genya takes care not to ruin any of her many, many floral dresses. Yes, she wears florals only to work. Once again, sue her.

She’s not sure why her friend would need assistance, she rarely asks for it, yet, there she stands.

Alina Starkov gives her a smile once again, but it’s less timid today, in no way tearful, instead calm and curious. Like they’re happy to see her, almost.

“Genya! Hi!” she says, and she’s more than a little surprised, much like their first meeting. Did she ever introduce herself? “Sorry, I hope I’m not disturbing, I, uh, I told Nina how grateful I am for your help with you-know-who. Wanted to thank you in person.”

That’s just way too adorable, isn’t it?

She feels her smile growing without even controlling it, and the brunette next to her is definitely looking like she wants to ask some questions ( many questions), but she’ll have to wait, geez, Genya cannot be having a romance novel moment in her store of all places.

Realising she also has to collect herself while being in front of the client and her best friend, and not zone out because her inner hopeless romantic is firing up inside her, she decides to brush it off and try to act casual, somehow, “I’m just happy to help. I assume it went as planned, then?” “Better than planned, even. He’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life, I hope.”

Alina laughs, and Genya gets that warm flush inside her chest again. And out of the corner of her eye, Nina looks less curious and more just straight up smug. Damn her.

“I think Matthias is calling me,” is actually how Nina first speaks up, and while the client nods, like they’re away in thought, Genya sees right through her.

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“You didn’t?” her friend questions, tilting her head, already moving towards the door Genya just came through, “Oh, I did. Can’t leave him hanging, might be urgent.”

“Nina-”

“Back in a jiffy!”

She’s left alone with Alina. Which is fine, you know, they were alone when they first met, right- but listen, Genya is still very much thinking about the person saying her name and the realization that she is, of course, wearing a name tag hits simultaneously with another shock: she remembered her name.

Logically, that’s not out of the ordinary at all. Gosh.

But she knows it’s not because it’s a shocking experience and more that a person who’s as beautiful as them is smiling at her and that they might just be the prettiest person she’s ever seen and that the thought of making her happy is making Genya happy, believe it or not. She doesn’t understand why this is different from any of her other experiences, but it is.

She hasn’t seen a smile like theirs before, that she knows. It makes her feel all strange and bubbly, like drinking champagne.

However, Alina is speaking up again, so Genya desperately needs to get out of her head.

“I was actually… uh, wondering if you’re maybe able to help me out again?” she starts, looking a tiny bit nervous, “If you’re not busy, that is, oh my God.”

And maybe Genya shakes her head way too quickly, but sue her, “Not at all!”

The client grins, the blush in their cheeks surely must be from the cold wind outside, and it just makes them prettier, if that’s even possible. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Now, she’s gotten this nickname before. Of course those times weren’t from Alina, and she makes sure to hide just how flustered she’s becoming, shaking her head and swinging her hand, “Stop it. I’ll try my best, heh.”

Alina clears her throat before continuing, “My best friend’s coming home, I haven’t seen him in over a year, and… Do you have, like, friendship flowers? I wanna surprise him at the airport.”

Once again, the person in front of her is just downright adorable. It’s almost frustrating.

Genya chuckles, because she doesn’t need the encyclopedia for this request, and easily makes her way over to the roses.

The client looks over the bouquet she picks up with the very same joy as their first meeting. “Yellow rose is the friendship flower, actually! Usually put together with violets, but I can change it up if you want…?”

“No no no!” they hastily reply, already taking the offer of grabbing the bundle, looking down upon it with visible dimples and eyes shimmering with excitement, “They’re perfect. Mal’s gonna love them, I know it!”

“Ah, I hope so.”

She feels almost shy with all this flattery coming her way, especially from Alina, of course, and once more she thanks her just about five hundred times before hurrying out the shop, phone chiming in the distance.

Even after they’ve left, Genya still cannot believe they came back. And remembered her. Or like, specifically sought out her help, again. Huh.

Nina immediately peeks her head around the corner when the front door has shut, her face lit up like it’s Christmas Eve, “They seemed nice. And pretty.”

“Nina,” is all she can come up with, giving her best glare, while her best friend feigns innocence.

“Yes, Genya?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

She sighs, “Just don’t.”

If Genya’s second encounter with Alina Starkov wasn’t surprising enough already, imagine her shock when she finds exactly this person entering her shop two months later. Events requiring flowers aren’t constant, which, again, is why she didn’t expect to see her ever again, but she’s not complaining, of course.

She’s working the counter when the door opening reveals Alina, their golden earrings present as always and her hair in two buns, wearing a cropped rainbow sweater and dungarees. Looking just as pretty as last time she saw them, oh God, that fluster’s coming right back.

Except she’s not alone this time. Alina’s got a taller stranger in tow, with curly hair, lip ring and pink floral shirt layered over possibly the most ridiculous graphic tee Genya’s ever laid her eyes upon.

Her recurring client waves when they spot her, heading straight to her, while their friend is almost spinning around in awe.

“Hello again,” Genya greets her, because fuck, she might just get excited over the mere sight of them. Meeting again. Is the universe trying to tell her something?

It’s an absurd thought that shouldn’t matter at all, get yourself together, she tells herself.

“Hi!” They seem even more excited than last time she saw them, and Genya wonders what the occasion could be before Alina continues, “How’ve you been?”

There’s that funny feeling again.

It’s kind of like a lump in her throat, this time, but still as bubbly and warm as before. It’s also just endearing for many different reasons, one being that she rarely gets customers twice, or thrice, and casual conversation is never as easy as theirs. She’s overthinking it, definitely.

“Busy, but good,” Genya tells her, and is about to return it, while remembering their companion, “You? And sorry, ah, I’m Genya.”

Alina’s eyes are like fireworks, almost, and she waves over her friend who’s entranced by the lilies. They’ve got a spring in their step as they make it over to them.

“This is Jesper,” they introduce them, and the tall stranger winks in greeting, “Jesper, this is Genya. I told him all about the shop, cause you’re like… the queen of flowers.”

Oh my God, why is she so sweet? It almost makes her feel embarrassed, the two of them looking at her as she imagines a blush rising just from the client’s words.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Right back at ya!” he replies, one hand in his pocket and another gesturing wildly in the air, “This is amazing, by the way. I see why Alina goes to you for stuff like this.”

Genya laughs, feeling strangely more comfortable and less nervous now. Still, she figures she should probably get to business, they wouldn’t have come here if they didn’t have a purchase in mind, right? As much as the compliments are much appreciated, Alina being the source of them is yet again making her slightly incapable of functioning normally.

She can only hope she’s improved at hiding crushes since high school, because, well… that is what this is. Genya can’t really lie to herself anymore, or pretend it’s nothing.

It’s making her slightly breathless, this person appearing and reappearing in her life.

But she does need to get over it, because as she tells herself every time, Alina is a customer and she is a salesperson. Her life isn’t a rom-com, as tragic as that may be.

“I hope your friend liked the flowers,” she said, not even needing to wait for a response as they lit up again and confirmed, dimpled smile and all, “Can I help you with anything today?”

Alina nods and hooks her arm with Jesper, “You know it. Friends of ours just got engaged, we wanna have a, uh… tiny celebration for them.”

“By that we mean surprise the shit out of them,” he follows with no hesitation, and Genya and Alina laugh, in syncron. Alright, that’s also totally fine.

“I’m sure we can figure something out for that,” she tells them. She figures flower meanings are less necessary this time around, and when she spots the bottle of champagne and heart shaped box in the client’s tote bag, she decides on a simple question, “Well, red roses are the classic. Most romantic. Do they have any favorite flowers or colors, and such?”

Jesper seems to be squinting in concentration, and Alina bites their lip. It’s quite endearing.

But the client’s eyes widen, then, and they blurt out with only a beat difference, “Pink!”

It comes out as a half-yell, actually, judging by the sweet elderly woman from down the block jumping in the other end of the shop, and Matthias nearly dropping the bunch of tulips he’s carrying onto the back of his bike wagon. The two look awfully apologetic during it all.

“Inej’s favorite color,” Alina explains with an embarrassed giggle, ducking their head, “It’s pink.”

Genya nods, “I see. How about… pink and white lilies, then?”

Jesper seems to smile in approval. “I like that. See, I would’ve just gone with pink roses.”

She gives them a sample, which they both seem pleased with, she hopes so at least, while chuckling once more at his statement, “Could work as well. But these are popular for gifts, they symbolise admiration.”

Her (favorite) client scrunches her nose with as big a grin as hers, already made up their mind, “I think she’ll love them.” And Genya, of course, feels a massive honor in helping them. Again. She can’t believe Alina’s come back two times. Gosh, she’s thinking too much.

“I’ll write these up for you, then,” she tells them while they’re already following her to the counter. At the same time, Jesper’s got furrowed brows in a thinkful sort of face, and Genya doesn’t really know if this is directed to Alina or herself, nevertheless he wonders aloud, “Not sure what my favorite flower is. You got one, Alina?”

“Duh,” the shorter person answers, without hesitation, “Sunflower. Everyone’s got one, right?

Sunflower .

In her mind, nothing else has made as much sense as this. This was the flower she first associated her client with, what their beauty could only be compared with. They shine, so much it’s near blinding Genya, at this point. Yes, she knows it’s cheesy, but it’s only in her head, after all.

Genya realises this question, however, is very much meant for her, and so she answers while typing in their total, bouquet already wrapped up to go, “I think so, yeah. I think your favorite means a lot for you, as a person.”

The taller man seems to consider this.

Then, “I like daffodils.”

“They mean rebirth,” she tells him, “Good choice.”

He looks pleased by her explanation. Alina seems to be the one deep in thought now, though, in fact, they’ve already paid and got the bunch in hand, Jesper saluting Genya in goodbye when the client asks, “What’s your favorite?”

As many times before, they never cease to surprise her, do they?

“My favorite flowers?”

She nods.

“Magnolias,” Genya needs no time to consider this, it’s easy, “Perseverance.”

Alina’s got her wide grin again, but… it changes, a little bit. It’s almost secretive. Promising. Regardless, Genya doesn’t know what to do with her thoughts about it, or the client bidding them their own farewell with, “Till next time!”

She’s quite sure this person will be the death of her, sooner or later.

And as if they could read her mind, Nina and Matthias appear at her side, the man’s arms crossed and her best friend’s arm around his waist, both looking at Genya like they could somehow dig into her brain and know all her secrets. They’re so annoying sometimes. When they’re not adorable. Mostly annoying, though.

“What are you two looking at?” she asks them, and the couple exchange a look before Nina grins.

“They asked for your favorite flower,” she says, her boyfriend nodding in agreement. Genya doesn’t know what to say.

“I know.”

Matthias cocks a brow, “You do?”

She scoffs in disbelief at whatever game they have going on, “Yes?”

Her best friend sighs and puts her free on her shoulder. She tilts her head, “Matthias asked for my favorite before our first date.”

Genya frowns. “I know.”

Nina then chuckles, because they’re both weird and wonderful at the same time, apparently, “You’re impossible.”

“I know what you’re suggesting, Nin,” she then says, because come on, it’s obvious what they’re implying. And it’s bullshit. It was just a question, you know? It must’ve been. Curiosity, that’s all. “But that is impossible.”

And because Nina’s looking at her in disbelief, she tilts her head in return, and her friend gives up on the staring contest soon enough. “Whatever you say, babe.”

As Genya expected, although much to her disappointment, it seems she won’t see anymore of her beautiful client with raven hair and smile like the sun itself, tragically.

It’s her own fault, really, getting… a bit too attached. She’s fine!

Of course Nina and Matthias are right about her crush, she already knew this. And a month after their last meeting, she admitted defeat just so they could get off her ass about it. Now, though, her best friend looks at her with a sad smile sometimes, like she can sense the disappointment that Alina’s presence is missing entirely from the shop.

They don’t have anything requiring flowers, she didn’t expect them to, all the time. And like, asking for Genya’s favorite flower didn’t mean anything, as her friends kept insisting. They were having a conversation. Customer and shop owner.

Why does she miss her? God, Genya needs to get a grip. It’s just a bit annoying, because she doesn’t feel bubbly and light anymore without Alina Starkov, and she still loves her job, of course , but maybe she does find herself a little bit jealous when the wedding season kicks in and the boutique is full of couples day in and day out, young and old, all looking at each other like no flower can compare to their love. It’s making her a little nauseous, not that she’ll ever admit it out loud.

Strangely enough, she does get a visit from a couple, a grumpy fellow and a woman with a soft smile, who never let go of each other’s hands while Genya sketched out ideas for the flower arrangement. They wanted geraniums. She somehow recalled her name: Inej Ghafa. And Kaz Brekker. Huh.

Matthias’ birthday passes, where Nina gets him cornflowers (of course), and a month later yet, a familiar face returns when Jesper stumbles in the door in excitement, eagerly purchasing a bouquet of irises for his boyfriend.

Even her mom’s in love, she tells her over the phone, and God, she’s happy for them all. Maybe Genya’s just been lonely too long.

She hadn’t even thought of dating in forever. Hadn’t thought of being single could possibly bore her, or tire her. Until, you know. Alina.

Whatever, whatever!

She’ll get over her stupid infatuation, eventually, she just needs to focus on her work, it was just a string of coindences, and once wedding season is over she’ll forget all about her favorite client who got away. Hopefully.

The universe has way, way different plans for her, though, apparently, because as she and Nina lock up for the evening, Matthias helping them carry the last load of a busy day even though this is technically his off-day (probably an excuse to be with his girlfriend even more, she suspects, but hey), Genya stops in her tracks in the parking lot.

The couple a few steps in front of her appear totally unfazed. They must know what’s going on.

And her suspicion is right, because Nina’s grinning from ear to ear when she looks back at her, “You okay, Gen?”

Genya blinks in disbelief.

Her car. It’s completely covered in… in magnolias. She can barely see any trace of her car, in fact, if it wasn’t for the lights blinking when she unlocked it.

What the hell is going on?

She’d had a rather normal day, busy but normal, and scheduled to drive back home to her mom for her birthday early tomorrow. But this is strange. Unreal. Not necessarily in a bad way, the flowers’ smell reaches her all the way over here, but just strange.

Matthias cocks his head and grabs Nina’s hand, “Aren’t you gonna look at your gift?”

“My… my gift?” she asks him, not sure what to say anymore. They definitely had a hand in this. “You already gave me gifts yesterday,” she tells them, dumbfounded.

Her best friend rolls her eyes, “It’s not from us, dummy.” “Who’s it from, then?”

“Shh! That’s a surprise.”

“Nina,” she warns, feeling the exhaustion take over her ever so quickly.

The brunette kisses her cheek and then tugs at her boyfriend’s arm towards her own car. Matthias winks. Screw them.

“Take a look!” they yell to her.

Well… okay then. Genya approaches her car slowly, only a little scared someone’ll jump out from the mountain of pink flowers and scare her half to death. Of course, this isn’t a prank, because her friends are bad at pranks, and the magnolias are so gorgeous she may be getting a little teary eyed.

These little ones reminded her to keep going, when she was at her lowest. It’s stupid, but she felt like she could overcome anything, learning the flower’s meaning and finding a blossom outside of her window back then, like a little reminder from the universe. That’s why they're her favorite. Perseverance.

Bugger, she should probably get started on digging her vehicle out from somewhere in there. Except… her eyes fall upon a little pink card, secured on the wiper. And on it, her name is written, in cursive, gold letters.

Her curiosity takes over, of course it bloody does, and she picks up the card immediately, and when she flips it over…

Is this a fever dream?

Happy early birthday, Genya Safin. Call me? Sincerest wishes (and apologies for the car, grand gesture), Alina Starkov.

This is most definitely a fever dream. Except the card is very real in her hands, and the smell of the magnolias embrace her like a warm hug, and her friends honk as they leave the lot, laughing audible even with the windows all the way up.

Alina’s phone number is written at the bottom, underlined and everything, with a tiny heart next to it.

A grand gesture. A grand romantic gesture, at that. Genya cannot for the life of her stop smiling, big and in shock and flushed and excitement flowing through her veins.

They remembered.

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maplecornia · 3 years

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chapter 17

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.73K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: bro DAYUM...that's it, that's all i have to say

“Kim Taehyung, you have 5 minutes to escort yourself to the vehicle.”

Why do things like this always seem to happen to you?

A man of nearly 6 foot towers over the both of you, burly and very upset.

He wears a suit, one that reminds you of the kind that FBI agents wear. His is one of a large frame, but not necessarily overweight. He has a face that might have been handsome when he was younger, but you can tell by his receding hairline and tired eyes that he’s at least in his middle ages. Perhaps 40-50 years in age.

Dark, small eyes, and a deeply tanned face which naturally sets into a scowl, do nothing to help his already aging features. It makes him seem truly terrifying as if he were an angry parent finally tracking down his rebellious teenager. His eyes are small, almost too small for his face sparkling with malicious anger.

Though he is still handsome, and there isn't necessarily anything wrong with him, you can't help but feel a bit uneasy. He exuberates intimidation and power, a very menacing essence that makes you shift away from him, shrinking into yourself.

You look from him to Taehyung, hardly noticing the way you have nervously grabbed onto his arm. Taehyung meets the man's gaze with a steady one of his own, unfazed by the anger which seems to pulsate off him in waves. He raises his eyebrow a bit, a smug look coating his face as he regards the man with narrowed eyes.

“W-who are you?” You ask, a bit timidly, regarding the new arrival cautiously. As his eyes shift from Taehyung to you, he grows livid, especially when he catches sight of your linked hands.

You notice his pointed look and start a bit, letting go of Taehyung’s arm; trying to pull your hand out of his grasp, but Tae doesn't let you. Instead, he holds tight, a sign of defiance.

You give him a look, and he gives you a sideways glance, one that makes you stop struggling. You roll your eyes in return, raising them to the man. He practically growls at you before you quickly glance away, staring at the ground instead.

“Leave her alone, Minhyuk,” Taehyung says, a bit wearily, and pulling you closer to him. You can feel your cheeks heat up, against your will, and avoid the man’s watchful stare. You bite your lip nervously, choosing to focus on Taehyung holding your hand instead. The man scowls your way, and in mere protective instinct, Tae pulls you closer to his side, his eyes darkening.

All he knows is he doesn't want to let you go.

Not yet anyway.

“He’s my bodyguard,” Taehyung explains, and your heart drops to the bottom of your gut in alarm. He gives you a disinterested look, raising his eyebrow sardonically. He doesn't deny the position and he certainly exuberates the kind of scary atmosphere most bodyguards have.

“The bodyguard whom you leave in the dust half the time.” Minhyuk snaps, crossing his arms. Taehyung only rolls his eyes, sighing as though he’s heard this before.

You can't help but feel as though you're stuck in the middle of a fight and want so badly to escape and wait it out...if only Taehyung would let go of your hand. You don't know why he wants to continue to hold it, and the only reason you can think of is that he wants to bother his bodyguard as much as possible.

In reality, your hand is the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment.

“We have an agreement,” Taehyung says, almost exhaustingly, putting the attitude on thick. You yank on his arm as if that will shock some respect into his stubborn body, but he just gives you a small sideways glance. “You let me have a bit of my freedom when I’m outside alone and I give your daughter all the BTS perks she could want.”

You give Tae a surprised look, but if he notices, he doesn't show it, choosing instead to focus on his bodyguard.

You didn't know that was even allowed, and to be honest, it might not be, especially if BangPD doesn't know about it.

And from the looks of things…

...BangPD has no idea.

“Thank God for Mia because without her I would have never agreed to such a ridiculous deal!” Minhyuk sighs in exasperation, one much like the ones that you've heard your mother give whenever you are being difficult.

Taehyung gives a slight scoff, rolling his eyes and turning to you.

You wonder what he thinks he’s going to gain by looking at your face.

A reprieve?

Nevertheless, he turns to you and carefully plucks your satchel off of your shoulders. You grasp for it, not willing to let it leave your side, but Tae gives you a look that tells you to trust him. You sigh, reluctantly letting him pull it off of your shoulders before he turns to Minhyuk once more.

“You know I could lose my job because of you, have you ever thought of that?” Minhyuk is shouting, continuing his rant.

“Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before. Would you hold this?” Taehyung asks, handing it to Minhyuk who takes it rather begrudgingly. You don't exactly like the careless way Minhyuk holds it, dangling from his massive hands at his side, but you keep your mouth shut, biting back an angry retort. Now is not the time to get an angry gorilla man on your bad side.

You don't mean for him to notice your look, but he does and glances at the satchel then back at you, a bit dumbfounded. You quickly look away at the glance, missing the apologetic look that passes over his face. He sighs, silently softening his grip on the satchel and carefully placing it on his shoulder.

“Could you at least text me whenever you want to leave? It would have been that simple. Then I wouldn't have Mr. Bang breathing down my neck because you didn't attend rehearsal on time.” He says, tiredly rubbing his temple as Taehyung turns to you once more, taking both of your hands in his own. You give Taehyung a silent scolding look and he sighs, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I guess it slipped my mind.” He says half to you, and you let out a disappointed sigh. How could things like this just slip his mind? “You see, I was a bit occupied.”

Taehyung kneels and takes your ankle in his hands, presenting it to the bodyguard. You almost fall with the sudden action and have to rest your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He smirks up at you, whispering.

“This is what you get.”

You look at him in befuddlement, so confused as to what the purpose of that was.

That is until you hear Minhyuk gasp from in front of the two of you.

“My God, is she okay?!”

Eyes widening, you give Taehyung a look as he lets go of you and rises, taking your hands off of his shoulder and into his palms. He runs his thumb over the top of your palm quite distractingly, and you wonder if he can feel your pulse flutter.

“That is low.” You hiss to him, and his smirk grows wider as he looks at you, trying his hardest to keep his self-satisfaction in. You think of pulling your hands away, just to spite him, but you’ve tried that before. So instead, you decide to stab him on the inside of his palm with your nail, which he jumps at.

Now it's your turn to smirk, and you look at his stupefied expression, quite pleased with yourself. He presses his tongue against his cheek, his mouth slightly open as though the stakes have just been upped in a poker match and he was being tested to how far he was willing to take the bet. Looking toward Minhyuk quite audaciously, he nods his head in response to his question.

“She will be….” He starts, his voice coated with thick mock emotion before he slowly draws his eyes to you. “....once we get her home.”

You narrow your eyes at him, absolutely refusing his suggestion.

He is not going to drive you home like some little damsel in distress, not when you can take perfectly good care of yourself. Besides, he has to get back to work. You could wait for the rain out and then wait for the bus to come back to take you home, it's not that big of a deal. You pray that Minhyuk doesn't fall for the bait and takes the realistic viewpoint, but…..

“You're right. We could drop her off on the way to BigHit. After all, you're already late, what're a few more minutes? Help her to the car, Taehyung, I’ll take her stuff.” Minhyuk says, turning to go.

Eyes widening with alarm, your mouth opens with protest as you turn to object, but he’s already gone, Taehyung smiling smugly as he walks away. Growling almost, you turn to him, shoving him in his shoulder. He laughs as you do, as though it didn't hurt it all. You weren't exactly trying to hurt him, but you find him laughing at you equally as annoying as his little asinine expression on his face.

“What?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“You shouldn't be driving me home, you should be going back to work!” You scold, poking him in the chest, still shocked by his little charade. “You know I’ll be fine. All I would have to do is wait for the bus to come back. Why are you avoiding your responsibilities just to help me when you don't have to?”

As you speak, his face falls into an unreadable expression.

A serene look, one with wide eyes and surprise mixed with something else. All the smugness and playful attitude are gone. It's a look that unsettles you, and you swallow hard. You almost want to push him further, say something that has him finally look at things seriously, but you don't.

You don't know that this whole time, he has been taking everything seriously.

He didn't want to leave you alone, not when you were hurt, not even when you were by yourself, just minding your own business. This whole situation is serious to him, even if he found it hilarious to tease you and bother you all day, he was just trying to find reasons to spend time with you.

Just trying to find ways to stay by your side.

He steps closer to you and you swallow hard, regarding him with cautious eyes.

What is he going to do?

You plead with him to say something, erase that expression from his eyes, give you some sort of implication. The hazelnut color isn't as vibrant anymore, it's a shade darker, turning his eyes into a color that reminds you of cocoa or warm milk tea. It’s a color that accents those copper flecks making it seem as though the sun was dancing within.

You stare into them with wide eyes of your own, your breath shortening and your heart beating at a million miles per minute.

“You want me to leave you alone?” he whispers, softly, his voice deep and thick. You don't answer him, glancing away for a bit.

In that mere moment of distraction, he takes the opportunity.

He leans close to you, pressing his lips right next to your ear, the warm feeling of his breath on your neck causing shivers to run down your spine. A sensation you haven't felt in a while, and catches you off guard, near stopping your heart. You go still, as though he would disappear if you made the slightest movement.

You don't want him to disappear.

“What if I can't do it?” he inquires, the sound of his voice reverberating in your eardrums causing you to take a shaky breath. Your eyes grow wide as he pulls away.

He tilts his head at your reaction, his smile growing. It's a sweet, affectionate smile, one not many people have given you. He reaches out to you in response, his hand brushing your cheek softly before tucking your hair behind your ear. The touch sends shivers down your spine and you can't move.

You're at war with yourself.

You want to give in to his touch, close your eyes and bask in the soft, gentle touch that is his and only his.

But you don't give in, you can't give in.

You have to ignore the way it makes you feel and resist falling into some delusion that he could care about you. You can't handle that heartbreak...

Not again.

His eyes hazy as he looks at you and a slight smile playing on his lips, he licks them before swallowing hard and trailing his hand past the skin behind your ear and down the side of your neck. You don't mean to, but you let out a sharp inhale of breath at the touch and close your eyes for a moment before raising them to his.

He blinks a bit in astonishment at the way you look at him, faltering a bit before, gingerly securing his hand behind your neck. Each finger tapping down on your skin as they secure their hold, a gentle touch that pulls you closer. He smiles at you for a moment, as the hand mixes into the wet tangles of your hair.

“See? Even now it's hard to stay apart for long.” He murmurs, and you narrow your eyes at him, trying to hide the smile that begins to grow by pursing your lips together.

His hand trails slowly down, before resting on the small of your back and pulling you even closer. Instinctively, you keep a hand out, as though to distance yourself as it presses against his chest.

He smiles, his eyes sparkling once more with mischief before reaching down and hooking his arm around your knees; buckling them over his arm as he lifts you once more.

You cry out as he does, the hand on his chest quickly securing its hold behind his neck. You are not going to take any chances this time. He smiles at you once you are settled and you give him a look.

“This again?” you ask, raising your eyebrow a bit. He nods, mutely taking off his hat and securing it on your head, purposefully making sure it goes halfway down your face. Narrowing your eyes you adjust it, making sure it fits right on your head. Feigning annoyance, you poke him in retaliation, right in his cheek. He holds his hand to his face in mock shock before your pout turns into a smile and you laugh, resting your hands around his neck once more.

“Onward, my young stallion.” You say, your voice taking on a bit of a British accent, and he plays along a bit of a twinkle in his eye before he begins to walk forward.

You can feel it as it begins to pound down once more on the two of you and the soft pelting sound as it dapples on Taehyung’s hat. But all you can think about is the rush of adrenaline that arises once he takes off running. As though the rain were some sort of poison from the sky. The roar of the storm and the deafening sound of thunder mixes with the roar in your ears and the sound of resounding laughter as you cling desperately to Taehyung.

He smiles, underneath your touch, the same feelings and emotions coursing through his veins as his feet slap on the concrete ground, splashing up puddles of rainwater along with him. His feet stomp quickly to a stop as he nears the car and he opens the door, setting you down securely inside. Though the movement is quick, he is so gentle and careful to make sure he doesn't damage your injury before you are secure.

As he sets you down, you almost reluctantly pull your hands from him but only to remove the hat he gave you and hand it back to him. He takes it from you slowly, before placing it back on his hair. You smile up at him, before flicking the brim of the hat.

“See you on the other side.”

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: okay you know that moment when you reread something and you forget for a moment that you wrote that? yeeah that's me. right now. at this moment.

chapter 18 here

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p-artsypants · 3 years

Text

I’ll Handle This (6)

In Which Plagg is Annoying

So, my beloved Fiancé really likes Magic: The Gathering. He’s taught me how to play it, and talks about it a lot, but I still don’t really understand it. It’s a complicated game. So this chapter has sections of me purposefully badly explaining the game, sorry if that bothers you lol.

Ao3 | FF.net

—

Adrien awoke curled in a ball. His bed was extremely soft, and he sunk right into it.

Oh, except it was a pillow. He was still in Plagg’s tiny Kwami body. Great.

He yawned and stretched, realizing that he was alone in his bed.

“Plagg?” He asked the room.

There was no answer, but the bathroom door was closed.

Plagg was most likely getting him ready, or his human body, ready for school.

Before Adrien could imagine the worst case scenario, the bathroom door opened, and Plagg emerged.

Adrien stared, and then declared loudly, “NO.”

“Yes!” Said Plagg, flouncing into Adrien’s closet.

“How—why? When?!”

Plagg brought his pre-chosen outfit into the main room, and started to get dressed, carefully slipping the purple tiger striped shirt over his expertly gelled Mohawk.

“Did you not see me buy that ultra super strong hair gel yesterday?”

“I didn’t see anything you bought yesterday,” said Adrien with frustration. “I was in your pocket the whole time, remember?”

“Oh, then you’re in for a treat!” He slipped on an over shirt, that was black with orange leopard spots.

“Oh god...”

“You should have been more careful about what you brought home from shoots,” Plagg sang. “Love the leopard spots. Though I’m just a black cat, mixing up my coat on occasion would be fun.”

“I kept that shirt because I thought it was funny, or it would be good for a costume. You can’t honestly wear it!”

Plagg blew him a raspberry. “Oh suck it up buttercup! It’ll be fine!”

Adrien watched with other things on his mind as Plagg finished dressing. Brown pants, rolled up with mismatched argyle socks, and then the same green sunglasses to cover his cat eyes.

“I think I have a photo shoot with Lila after school,” said Adrien.

“And?”

“And you should probably attend it. I know you want to piss off my dad and blow off responsibilities that aren’t Miraculous related, but modeling is my job. I’m still under a contract and I get paid for it. That money goes to my college fund, which I intend to use to pick my own career.”

“What’s one missed shift to the son of the company?”

“A strike against me, and a loss of around a thousand euros.”

Plagg swiveled his head to look at him. “That much? Is Lila making that too?”

“No.” Adrien chuckled. “I am in high demand and so I make more. She makes around 15 euros an hour. That’s why she always drags photoshoots on for so long. Me and some of the other models get paid per gig.”

Plagg scoffed. “That’s stupid.”

“So will you behave for three hours?”

“No,” said Plagg, smoothing his shirt and hair. “But I’ll participate in the shoot and play nice with the photographer. Lila, on the other hand, I have plans for.”

Adrien looked at him warily. “...alright.”

Doing a once-over, Plagg declared, “just one more accessory, the piece de resistance...” he reached into a plastic bag from his shopping yesterday.

Adrien gaped in horror. “NO. NO NO NO!”

—

Gabriel walked from the kitchen back to his office, coffee mug in hand. Dealing with Adrien’s rebellion had been a PR nightmare, but he was able to spin Adrien’s outfit yesterday, as out of character as it was, as merely a phase. A phase which he would grow out of soon, but one that was necessary for Adrien to grow, to explore his own style, to learn fashion in his own mind. The media ate it up, and several articles would be coming out in the next week or so.

Then the boy in question streaked by him in a kaleidoscope of color.

Gabriel sputtered on his coffee, staining his suit with the brown liquid, but not caring a bit.

“Adrien?!” He shouted, beyond horrified. He couldn’t tell what was worse, the patterns? The colors? The hair? NO.

“Where did you get crocs?” Gabriel asked, as Adrien reached the unfortunately unlocked door.

He turned for just a second, long enough to shout. “Ask my butt, old man!” Before the door shut behind him.

Gabriel had to call those magazines back.

—

Plagg arrived at school, drawing the attention of every student mingling there. Some stared in horror, while others held in laughter.

A student passed Plagg and raised a fist. “Nice duds, dude! Stick it to the man!”

Plagg responded with a gleeful grin and matching fist bump.

“Oh my god,” said Nino, as he arrived. “You look amazing.”

“My dad spilled coffee on himself this morning, and the look on his face was totally worth it.”

“God, I wish I could have been there.” Nino sighed.

“It was pretty amazing, not going to lie.”

“Oh, while we have a second...I was hoping to have a sleepover this weekend. Marinette and Alya would come over for the evening, and then leave in time for dude’s night. You in?”

“Just you and me?”

“Yeah, if that’s cool.”

“Absolutely! After school tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Marinette said your schedule was open.”

“Marinette knew that? I didn’t even know that.”

“I think she keeps track of that stuff for class activities.” He cleared his throat, not looking at him. “And for no other reason besides that.”

Plagg chuckled to himself. God, Nino was the worst liar. “I understand. Someone’s got to know my schedule if I don’t.”

“Marinette is the best, after all.” Nino puffed up his chest, doing his damndest to be a good wingman.

Plagg didn’t think he needed to try so hard, but props. “She is the best, isn’t she?”

Nino smiled widely, like he had a secret joke that wouldn’t make sense to anyone.

A pair of arms wound around his own, squeezing tightly like a boa constrictor. “Good morning Adrien!” Lila chirped.

“Morning,” Plagg returned, playing casual in front of Nino.

“I need to talk to you about the photoshoot after school.” She turned to Nino. “Can I borrow your buddy for a minute?”

“You can have him for five minutes.” Nino winked.

Lila giggled, sounding pretty realistic to an untrained ear. “Thanks Nino!” Without waiting for Plagg’s permission, she dragged him away to a sequestered corner of the courtyard.

Before Plagg could even ask what was in her mind, she turned and faced him, expression full of vitriol and rage. It was not a face he’d seen on many mortals.

“Don’t think I can’t see what you’re trying to do, Adrien.” Her voice was cold, sharp, and harsh.

Adrien shivered in Plagg’s pocket.

“And that would be...?”

“Trying to weasel your way out of our little agreement.”

Plagg blinked, remembering the arrangement they had prepared a while ago. It’s what had gotten Marinette un-expelled. Just schmooze with the brat and she’d leave Marinette alone. But it was very apparent she was ready to take any violation of this agreement as an invitation to jump right back into her conniving ways.

Plagg would hold out for now, play the long game. He had a plan, and if that failed for some unexplainable reason, then he had another one lined up. It was just a matter of finding out what bait Lila would take.

He feigned a gasp, as well as she would, and laid a hand on his chest. “Oh Lila, whatever are you talking about? I’m just having a little disagreement with my dear old dad. It’s nothing against you! Honest!”

She squinted at him. “You’re still on the schedule to model with me later today, so I’m assuming you didn’t actually quit modeling. If you had, this would have turned sour.”

“What do you mean?”

“Modeling is our ‘fun friendship’ activity, and if you try to get out of it, I’m going to assume you don’t care about Marinette after all.” She shrugged.

He laughed, a dark sinister laugh that didn’t belong on his handsome, sweet, cherubic face. “You mortals are just so cute when you think you can win against me.”

The look on Lila’s face was perfect. Part confused, part terrified. “What?”

He spoke with a voice older than time, conjuring magics from the ancient unknowns. “Dos valok th’um krosis!”

“Did...did you just cast a spell on me?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. How do your lips feel?”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t know, a little—“

“CHAPPED?” Provided Plagg, with a shit-eating grin.

“Oh my god.”

“Do not test me, Lila Rossi. You won’t win.” He gave her a pleasant little smile.

She stared in bewilderment, before chuckling right back. “Boy, you had me for a second.” She pulled out a tube of chapstick and applied some. “Are you trying to psych me out? Cause it’s not going to work.”

“Well darn,” said Plagg with a little snap of his fingers. “Thought my necromancy could spook you off. Well, if that didn’t do it, I guess you really do want to be my friend, no matter how quirky I can be.” He gave a happy little sigh.

Lila was immediately suspicious. “Sure, I want to be your friend...?” It wasn’t supposed to be a question, but Lila wasn’t convinced.

Unless Adrien really was that naïve.

“Great!” Plagg clapped. “I have to go talk to Marinette, but we’ll hang out at the shoot! It’s going to be so much fun!” And he hurried off.

Lila narrowed her eyes back in his direction. There was definitely fishy about that exchange. She couldn’t very well text Gabriel and say, “there’s something suspicious about your son. He actually wants to be my friend. Also he chapped my lips.” That would be too confusing and send all the wrong messages.

So she resigned to wait until the photoshoot after all. Since, of course, he couldn’t keep up this act for several hours in a row. She could, but she was a professional.

Her musings came to a halt as she heard the wonderful noise of Marinette’s scream. “MY EYES!!”

Lila hurried from her nook to find out what had happened. Had someone sprayed her with mace? Pocket sand?

No. Adrien was merely striking poses in front of her, and she had recoiled in horror.

“Adrien!” She stated, aghast. “How could you?!”

He posed again, butt in her direction. “You like?”

“It’s foul. Are those crocs?!”

“Yep! I contemplated on getting the little ladybug plugs for the holes, but I didn’t really think it was worth it. After all, how often do you look at a man’s feet?”

“In that outfit, it’s going to be too hard to tell what part is the worst.” Her eyes bounced over the competing patterns and made her dizzy. “Well here,” she handed over a hanger covered with a trash bag. “Your sin against fashion has been committed. I’m willing to do more, but don’t attach my name to it.”

Adrien just laughed. “Don’t worry, Pooh Bear, your secret is safe with me.”

Lila’s lips curled in disgust at the nickname. Obviously, she would tell Gabriel that Marinette was enabling his behavior. Maybe she could spin it as her influence all together. Yes, yes, that would work. Two stones and all that.

—

After school, Lila rode with Adrien to the photoshoot.

Boy, if she wanted a taste of what the day would be like, she certainly got it. And she should have taken the chance to run.

“So Nino and I started playing this game with the guys in class,” Adrien had begun, without so much as a greeting. “Have you heard of Magic: The Gathering?”

“...no?”

“Oh okay, so I’ll tell you all about it.”

As a master manipulator, Lila understood the masterful art of conversation. There were several strategies she had developed over the years. Her favorite was ‘talk passionately and allow for natural lulls in explanation so they can ask questions’. It made people feel engaged and kept them coming back for more, while she was perceived as interesting and smart, but also humble.

However, it seemed that Adrien was utilizing the beginners mistake of ‘poorly explain a subject you’re not really passionate about without letting the other person talk’. Like an underpaid substitute teacher filling in for a class they don’t know much about.

“So like, there are these cards with different landscapes on them, and they’re all different based on color, right? So there’s water or islands for blue and mountains and stuff for red, right? And each one is worth mana. And you have to use mana to play a card. Except for lands, I think. You can play those whenever, except you have to draw them, you can’t just go searching through your deck. Unless a card tells you you can.”

Finally, they arrived at the shoot, and Lila nearly fell out of the car in her haste to get away for some peace and quiet, just for a second.

Who knew that boy could talk so much?

—

Plagg and his mohawk were led to the makeup trailer. Thankfully for the hairstylist, it came with a salon sink, so Adrien didn’t have to go home and shower.

“Sorry, Mr. Agreste,” the stylist said as she draped a cape on him. “We have to flatten the mohawk.”

“That’s alright,” Plagg assured with a polite smile. “It served its purpose.”

“It was very well done, honestly,” she said with a laugh. “For not having the sides of your head shaved, that is.”

“I had to work with what I had.”

The stylist just hummed in understanding, as she started to rinse his hair, the gel melting and washing down the drain.

The stylist sighed, and gave a little huff to herself.

Plagg normally wouldn’t care, but if his meddling had inconvenienced someone else’s job, that would reflect poorly on Adrien. So, he asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Umm...” she paused, biting her lip. “Look, we’re friends right?”

Plagg didn’t even know this person’s name. “Of course.”

“Are you close to Miss Rossi? I know you guys are friends...”

“I hate her guts.” Plagg declared with a broad smile.

“Oh good!” She relaxed. “I really really hate working on her. And so does everyone else, and last time she was here, she was just—Ugh, the worst. I got so frustrated because Giuseppe and your father like her, so even if I complained, nothing would happen. Likely, I’m the one that would get in trouble. You remember Alexander, right? The lighting assistant?”

No. Not one bit. “Yeah?”

“Well, she yelled at him one time during a shoot, in the back. Apparently, she wanted coffee and he wouldn’t get it for her, even though that’s soooo not his job. So she complained to Giuseppe and got him fired! Honestly, I don’t know how he didn’t get akumatized over that.”

“I don’t either!” Plagg said, with surprise. “I knew she was a pain, but yikes...”

“I think you’re a really cool kid, Adrien. But she’s going around and telling everyone you got her this job and—“ she sighed. “People are getting resentful.”

Now Plagg was mad. It was immediately apparent that Lila had a ‘if I can’t have them, no one can’ attitude, turning the staff on Adrien if she couldn’t win them over with her outlandish lies. Adrien couldn’t afford having that many enemies. He was too soft.

“Actually...” Plagg began to explain how Lila had wound up with her job, lying to Nathalie and Gorilla to get access to his house, lying to his father to get on his good side, and all the things she did to Marinette, who he took the bullet for to protect. “She means a lot to me,” Plagg said, in regards to Marinette. “So I didn’t mind having to pretend to be Lila’s friend if it meant she could come back to school and not be harassed anymore. It seems that Lila has a loose form of friendship.”

The stylist wiped her eyes. “Oh Adrien, you’ve got such a heart of gold. I’ll set everything straight with the team. Don’t you worry!”

“I actually have a plan, that you might let everyone in on. And I apologize in advance.”

“Lay it on me.”

—

By time Lila was called in to get ready, Plagg had been groomed into a normal looking boy with normal looking hair and clothes. Though normal protocol usually had Lila in hair and make-up alone with the stylists, Plagg sat in a chair nearby, separated from her by a curtain.

“Adrien? Shouldn’t you be out there?”

“Oh it’s okay, I wanted to keep telling you about this game.”

“Oh, well, you shouldn’t keep Giuseppe…”

“He won’t mind. So, there’s a bunch of colors, right? Red, Black, Green, Blue, White, and…one more. I think there’s one more.”

A sigh was heard from the other side of the curtain.

“No, no I was right, there’s only five. But you can combine them. But not like, mix them? It’s like, Blue-Black, and Red-Black. And Green-Blue. And so different colors have different themes, right? And the themes are different based on the set. Oh yeah, there’s different sets and Wizards of the Coast release like, two or three sets a year. I think. Like they had this one that was all about Dinosaurs and pirates. But they usually aren’t that wacky. Unless it’s a joke set. Which that one wasn’t. I can’t remember the name of it right now, but it started with an ‘I’.” And he was off, explaining all he could remember of the game, from what Adrien had told him, to what he had heard while the boys played at school. If he could find a point to elaborate on, he did.

Every once in a while, he’d make eye contact with a staff member, who would in turn grin and give a secret thumbs up.

He started to run out of steam while Lila was in makeup.

Thankfully, one of the technicians with a grudge noticed, and helped him out. “Would you ever play competitively?”

Through the mirror, Plagg could see the lightbulb go off over Lila’s head. “You know, my grandfather was one of the chess masters of the world. He won lots of tournaments, and I’m sure he’d love to give you some pointers if you were interested, Adrien.”

The technician answered for him. “Chess? We’re talking about Magic: The Gathering. Two totally different games. The tournaments are pretty fun too, but I really enjoy playing at pre-releases. They usually only allow you to play with the set you’re buying, so you can’t look at them beforehand…”

Plagg beamed at the guy, thrilled with how quickly he had shut Lila down.

Lila, however, was undeterred. She met the eyes of the female stylist and just shrugged. “Boys, right? So, this weekend—“

“Shh,” the stylist hushed. “I’ve been trying for weeks to learn this game.”

Lila crossed her arms and sat silently for the rest of the session.

Once the models were all dolled up, they were escorted out to the set, and Giuseppe got to work with posing.

Here’s where Lila tried to make up for lost attention.

“Oh Giuseppe! I had such a wonderful idea for the shoot today! Since the gardens are in full bloom—“

“Which reminds me!” Plagg snapped his fingers. “Green-Black combination cards are really unique because they create a bunch of minions. Like, the cards in them have the ability to spam the battlefield with like a bunch of little guys called tokens that take a lot of extra work to get rid of. Well, like, not a ton of extra work, because they only have like one HP, but like, it's more work then you would have had to do. Wait, white, not black. Actually, I think white is the best at tokens, my mistake.”

Despite her best efforts, Lila could not suppress a full body eye roll.

It was exactly what Plagg was waiting for, and he jumped in for the finisher. He turned his sad kitten eyes to her, looking like Puss in Boots from Shrek, and asked, in the most pathetic voice he could muster. “Am I annoying you?”

Lila stared at him, as the staff and Giuseppe looked right at her, to see her response.

“I…I…” she stammered. “N-no, not at all, Adrien. I…love hearing about this game.”

He beamed. “Good! Because I have to tell you about my favorite combination of Blue-black. It’s really high in conditions and making things difficult for the opponents, right?”

Lila’s nostrils flared, but she held back any other sign of frustration. It was remarkable, really.

Plagg was quiet while Giuseppe gave directions, and during the actual shooting, but in between takes, when he didn’t have to be ‘professional’ he filled in the silence with whatever jargon he could find. He was wearing her down.

“Alright,” Giuseppe finally said. “We’re all done with you, Lila. Now it’s just Adrien’s solo shoot. But you can stay if you like.”

Lila was already halfway to the trailers. “I’m so sorry Giuseppe, I have somewhere I have to be this evening, so I’m going to head out. I’ll see everyone next time!” And she practically sprinted off set.

Once she left, Giuseppe gave a loud sigh of relief. “Now let’s get some real work done.”

—

Later that evening, when Adrien and Plagg had returned to the mansion, Adrien sat on the desk as Plagg scrolled online. Homework had been completed with ease, and it was still too early for bed.

“What are you reading?” Adrien asked.

“I’m trying to slog my way through the lore of that video game you like, the one with the Dragons. I have to have more ammunition the next time I deal with Lila. I almost ran out today.”

“Is that what I sound like?”

“What?”

“You today, when you were talking about Magic. Is that what I sound like to you? Do I ramble on?”

Plagg screwed up his lips in thought. “Mmmm, sometimes.”

Adrien hunched in on himself.

“But look. Culture and creative medium has grown astronomically in the last 200 years since I’ve been asleep. I want to know about what’s out there. I like hearing about things that you enjoy. Even if it is annoying sometimes, I still care about you. The reason I pulled this strategy is because Lila likes to talk, and she doesn’t like to listen. Even if I was talking passionately about something I knew a lot about, I doubt she would have cared. I hear how often she interrupts class.”

Adrien hadn’t thought about it like that.

“You know who Pavlov is, right?”

“Uh, the guy that did the experiment with the dog, right? He rang a bell and gave his dog a treat, and eventually the dog came to associate the bell with treats.”

“Precisely. Humans are the same way. Knowing this principle is the easiest way to win people over. You have to make them associate you with good feelings. If you treat people well, be friendly, courteous, and funny, eventually, people will like to be around you. The same works in reverse. If I can associate myself with frustration and annoyance for Lila, she won’t want to be around me. Being straight up mean to her won’t work because she’ll see that as a challenge.”

“So you have to be subtle,” Adrien concluded. “Thats…that’s genius.”

“I know.”

“So you don’t think I’m annoying?”

Plagg rubbed him between the ears. “I only found you annoying when you would complain about Ladybug, your dad, or Lila. But now, in your shoes, I’ve realized how easy it is to get frustrated about these things. But hopefully soon enough, you won’t even have to worry about it.”

Adrien smiled brightly. “Thanks Plagg. I hated this at first…but you really are making some progress.”

“Told you. Now, help me pack. You have your first sleepover tomorrow night.”

“My first sleepover, and I’m going to spend it crammed in a bag!”

#miraculous ladybug #ml #adrien agreste #plagg #I'll handle this #fanfiction #adrienette

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editorialsonlife · 3 years

Text

Well

Welp, feeling like doing an update because there's been a lot going on to be honest. its one of those weird dichotomies where every day feels like an eternity and there's so much going on and then you look back and you're like oh, ok its just my brain making it difficult and making things take forever but anyway.

LOCKDOOOOOOOWWWWWWNNNNNNN

Lockdown life was good, apart from being thrust into it so suddenly dave left a banana on his desk. Wasn't great to come back to after 5 weeks out of the office - mummified mouldy banana!! Classic. We luckily got our first jab before lockdown started so that was good, and we were reasonably well stocked up on food and were generally a lot healthier this lockdown that last. honestly, there's a level of chill and serenity in lockdown that i just love. the ability to set my own schedule and only work the hours I actually work to get the job done? Amazing. getting 8.5 hours of sleep each night without having to wake to an alarm blaring? AMAZING. getting to go for walks every afternoon? SO FLIPPING GOOD. I love it so much, I really really do. I need this to be my life permanently.

WORK

Work is just ongoing and draining and honestly, coming back to the office was so fucking stressful and it was only one day. Being at home is just the fucking bomb. Pending home decisions, I wanna go contracting I think, but also ideally two part time contracts to have more flexibility? I dunno. You'd think a big 4 would provide variety but it really doesn't and honestly, with Richie leaving, wellington is just a sinking ship. Sean's off on parental leave, Kirstyn is down to four days a week, ben will be gone if he doesn't get promoted (and I don't think he will be tbh). Jack is just muddling along, Nigel wants to swap to consulting as well, Matt's going to be a shit leader in terms of bringing in work so it's just not going to work. and in our wider group it's going to get even more messy with heaps of the analysts leaving and a couple of senior hires too. so I think it's probably time to jump ship in general, pending the home stuff below. Also, coming back after a break again, I'm like, I don't actually like a lot of you? All the people I enjoy here are in other teams and groups, and I'll be sad to leave you all, but like, not enough to stay anyway lol.

Pending the home below, two options are to just going and get a job with a $30k payrise to make up for the maternity leave benefits I'm gunna leave behind when I leave this role - 18 weeks full pay, $100 a week for the first year back and a full year of maternity leave. It's basically 30k post tax which is a bit nuts to walk away from to be honest.

Otherwise the other option is to go contracting. Less security overall but holy shit so much money. If I went in as a project coordinator at the lowest rate to build up a bit of a portfolio I'd need to work 40 weeks of 40 hr weeks and Id basically match my current salary plus the lost family leave benefits and still qualify for govt maternity leave payments. Realistically I could go in as a project manager for $140 an hour ($60 more an hour than the above math) and absolutely smash it at that level as well so ya know, there's a bunch of other info. I like the idea of the flexibility of it and only having 6 months even if its a shitshow and beign able to walk away at the end of it. I really don't want to get a govt job and this is a v govt town which is fine but also, if I can avoid it that would be great. I just know I'm not gunna thrive in that environment.

Need to talk to Dave to get him across the line on the security issue part of that though. I've mostly come a long way in terms of my financial management (thanks YNAB) so I think he'd be ok with it mostly.

So there's a lot to toss up there because......

HOME

We got the reno plans done during lockdown, finally. which was super good. but holy fkn jesus $$$$$$ ++++++++++. The guy is coming around for the final quote on Thursday. We indicatively said $100k total because we're doing kitchen laundry bathroom and toilet. so only the most expensive rooms and when I was talking to him last week he said 'that might cover it' and they're seeing cost escalations of 7-10% a week which is just insane. we're not doing anything structural apart from putting in a cavity slider in the bathroom, and the quote they'll give us won't include flooring since they won't do it.

Meanwhile, the prefab homes I were looking at for our site were $425k fully done. Like, I'm not going to spend $130K on doing up my 1940s ex state house ya know? That's not good cost benefit ratio.

So depending on what that comes out at on thursday we'll be able to make some plans.

We also want to start trying for kids next year and need these renos done first - I am not having kids and no dishwasher lol.

Also we need bank financing so good to be in a permanent stable job for that application. the good thing is we have so much equity we know we can borrow whatever we need, I just don't want to spend that much money on it because it's fkn ridiculous. and if I'm going on maternity leave we need to be able to cover it all on dave's salary and whatever benefits I have as well so there;s a lot of financial planning and spreadsheeting going on at the moment lol. it's fab.

either way. we've got plenty of options up our sleeve. we've got friends who's brother owns a building company so we can talk to them, we've got the garage so we can get things prefabricated even if they're not installed til next year, Dave can get shit at cost through his work for whiteware, there;s plenty of things to like cost control we can do, we just need to know where we're starting from basically. thats the challenging part. but we'll figure it out, its just taking longer than I want it to basically.

We also planted up the vege garden for the spring/summer which was lovely, super jazzed about that. we've finally got the garden to a reasonably low maintenance level where everything is mostly under control and it's such a relief, honestly.

PERSONAL

Man what a shift to lockdown last year honestly. I think the last 8 weeks in particular has just been like, a massive reality check of how absolutely shit the last year was and how fucking glad I am to be rid of it. I spent a week absolutely spiralling 2 weeks ago now and honestly, I don't know how I lived in the state for more than a year. I actually don't know how I did it. and I could not be more glad that I'm finally on the other side of it, for the most part. There's still a bunch of other stuff to work through (hahahahahaha when is there not like damn) but fucking hell its nice to just not be anxious and nauseous and wound up constantly. life is actually accessible. miracle.

My workmate had his bebe - I went round and got newborn cuddles and was like, oh, is this what it is to be clucky? this is odd. so there's that as well. I think we'll probably start trying next year pending renos and jobs etc. If the renos can be done in jan I'll prob just stick it at the job to get the benefits but I dunno. it's a tough call to make really. we shall see. This all assumes we get knocked up without any issues which is questionable these days. I really want to feel healthier before getting pregnant as well, and part of that is losing weight. however, given discussing that is what triggered the spiral we're working on that one slowly.

Also, lets have a moment for counselling, because fkn bless anne and all her hard work honestly. I actually ended up emailing her being like, I;m losing my shit on the monday and then talked to her on thursday. And its so funny because it's such a counselling thing but I didn't realise until afterwards what she'd done but she was like you're clearly not doing well and then the night before dave got a fkn miserable migraine and he was up for like, 2 hrs powerchucking except he didn't make it to the bathroom in time so guess who was cleaning up vomit at 130am trying not to chuck herself but I digress. anyway, not doing well, couldn't even explain why, didn't even have words and super tired and she's like, what lynaire up to this week how's she going with izzy and chat about that and then be like how are you feeling about your body and then 5 more mins of chat about the cat and the chickens and then like bam hard question and then hows it going with x and y and z and its like, it wasn't til I was on my walk afterwards when I FINALLY started feeling marginally better I was like damn woman work your magic for figuring it out for me and helping me reregulate. all over the phone as well since we were still in lockdown. GREAT WORK FRIEND.

and then last week was like totally fucked theoretical discussion about religion and the role it's played in my life and fate vs free will and all this nutty shit but genuinely just a great discussion. She's the best and I love her. thank good for good counsellors. thank god I can afford to pay for it honestly.

Dave and I are just chugging along, god bless that man. I love him. its amazing. I miss having friends close by but understand why they had to move (boooooo f u house prices). Family is pretty chill, still not really talking to dave's parents which is nightmarish but we'll deal with that when we need to. gunna have to go and visit them at some point coz dave misses them and I feel for him, I really do. It's the whole boundaries renegotiation I went through with my family last year post wedding blow up and its just not a fun place to be. oh well. can't fix it for him but also I'm not putting up with that level of BS from either of our families once we have children. not gunna happen.

Either way, life is busy and full and fun and I'm enjoying it. Daylight savings starts this weekend too, its october next week WTF and I'm just waiting for 4pm to find out what's gunna happen to our girls trip. Clearly we cancelled our sept trip to christchurch and akaroa and hanmer springs so my covid travel curse continues. fkn ridic. Still dunno what we're gunna do with $2500 of flight credits coz if we get knocked up theres def no international trips happening any time soon.

thus concludes the almost 2000 word write up of life. hope you've enjoyed it. I'll throw up some pics in a separate post if people care about reno plans. such a good time!

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shoutoismybaby · 4 years

Text

Enouement- Ch 4

ch3/masterlist/ch5

Be prepared for some more angst!

***

All of the memories you shared with Kaminari stormed through your mind. All the times he had kissed you. hugged you. The times he held you when you were crying.

Something that he wasn’t doing now. He was the one who caused you to be in this state in the first place, yet you didn’t blame him. The burn you were feeling all over your body could only be blamed on yourself.

If you had been more careful when you were with Bakugou you would have noticed someone watching the two of you. Or if you hadn’t been so clumsy you wouldn't have fallen in the first place. If you were smart enough you would have just sent him a text and not met up with Bakugou in the hallway.

Even better, if you weren’t a complete imbecile you would have gotten the abortion earlier so this never would have happened.

Or you would have at least known better to use protection from the beginning. You banked on good luck, but if today showed anything, it was that lady luck didn’t even know your name.

By now it was evident that the universe didn’t give a fuck about you. If the tears didn’t give it away, your inability to breathe without painful wheezing should have been signs enough.

You couldn't remember the last time you had cried so hard, knees pulled so close you your face you thought that your chest would be left bruised. But you didn't have time to think about that.

You needed to get up and think of a way to solve your problem. You were going to be a hero, after all, a hero needed to know how to solve problems. It shouldn’t be all that hard after all, you just needed to explain what had really happened with Bakugou.

Bakugou...

Of course! You just had to get Bakugou to tell him the truth. Bakugou wasn’t a liar after all, so Kaminari would believe him and you could get back together and forget this even happened. Everything would go back to normal and you wouldn’t have anything to worry about.

With a plan filling your heart with hope you were able to pull yourself up. You knew the lunch bell would ring soon so you made sure to wipe your eyes quickly before heading to their classroom, if you could catch Bakugou before he went into class then everything would be fine at the end of the day. He wouldn’t want to be even associated with cheating, so you had no doubt that he wouldn’t hesitate to clear everything up. Even if it was in a way that included yelling and letting everyone in on your business. Still, it would be worth it if you could get Kaminari back.

The trek to class 3-A felt shorter than it usually did despite time having passed since the bell rang, perhaps because you were on a mission to fix your relationship, but more realistically because you had started running. Ignoring those who voiced concern for you as you rushed past them. You didn’t have time to tell your worried classmates why you were crying, you just needed to get to Kaminari.

The door was open when you arrived leading you to peak your head in without hesitation. Something you immediately regretted as you were not at all prepared for what your senses were exposed to.

The air felt tense, just as a group of students who crowded around a desk in the middle of the room were. It was Kaminari’s desk. You could see his face through the bundle of bodies. It was red, puffy, and shiny with both tears and snot. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but even worse were the sobs that racked his trembling frame.

You had only thought that he was at his worst before he left you alone in the stairwell, it was now clear that he was holding himself together in front of you. Perhaps one last grasp at the pride he thought he was losing. Obviously, the sight of his dearest friends made his exterior shatter, and now he looked akin to a toddler. So small and frightened, you had always looked up to him and his strength. Even when he himself couldn't see just how great he was, you always knew. The sight of him so vulnerable made your bones ache.

“M-maybe I deserved it?” The whimper released from the deflated blonde barely made its way to you, but you out of anyone could understand Kaminaris incoherent murmurs after being with him for so long. It hurt to hear. You wanted to scream at him, shake him. He never did anything wrong, he had and will never be deserving of having his heart broken in such a fashion. Yet, that was what was happening to him. You just needed to tell him the truth, maybe to just help him heal because the more you thought about it the more truth his words held for you.

Maybe you were the one who was undeserving of him. Everything happened for a reason, maybe this was the universe's way of letting him move on to better things. The pregnancy should have been a big enough hint to you that you weren’t meant to be after all. You were just too stupid to listen, and now you saw the consequences of your ignorance.

The person that meant most to you was now broken.

You had broken the person who meant the most to you.

And you needed to fix it.

Leaning further into the room you searched for the tuft of spiky blond hair. The only person who could really help you to rectify this situation. Only, you couldn’t spot him. Class was going to start soon and the absence of your savior caused your heart to race. You needed him so that you could stop Kaminari from hurting, that was all that mattered. But your train of bad luck only seemed to continue as your movement caught the attention of a certain pair of golden eyes. Ones who at the sight of you only welled up with more tears as a gut-wrenching sob left his figure. Instinctively your hand reached out, but quickly retracted when the attention of the group surrounding the wounded boy was drawn to you.

Never before had the gaze of others' eyes burned you so deeply. The various faces of people you had grown to laugh with had morphed into pure hatred. A hatred that made you tremble. Your mouth opened, only for its dryness to become apparent to you as you quickly shut it.

You weren’t even sure what you could say now.

“I didn’t cheat on him and the only person who can assure you of that isn’t here yet, but I swear I'm telling the truth!”

God, you were so stupid to think that you could just get everything to work out by telling the truth. And who was to say they would believe Bakugou anyway?

Sure, Bakugou was probably one of the most honest people you knew. But didn’t you just ruin his entire reputation?

You didn’t have much more time to think about what to say before the resident dual quirk user departed from the crowd. His glare was the only one that made you shiver, and you wondered how someone who also worked with fire could ever be so cold.

He stopped once he reached the doorway, you back out into the hall as your fight or flight response kicked in. It was clear that you were no longer a cute girlfriend from a different class. You were the traitor, and Todoroki’s eyes made sure to sculpt that message into your soul.

You didn’t belong there anymore, and you were prey because of that.

His tone was so hardened when it came out that you almost did a double-take. Its lowness you had only heard about from Kaminari in his tales of the league coming into contact with his class. You understand why he used that tone with you now. To him, you were a villain.

“I don’t know how someone like you got into UA, but you don't belong here.” Tears were barely able to swell into your eyes before you jumped, the door being slammed in your face.

You felt naive in that moment. Believing that anything could go right for you. You didn’t deserve it too. Obviously, you were a terrible person and that was why this was all happening. Todoroki was right, you didn't deserve to be here.

You did the only thing you could think to do next, turn and run. Your head pounded with each thud your feet hit against the tile floor. You felt awful and most likely dehydrated. Leaving you to sob dryly with little to no tears left to cool the heat of your face. All you wanted to do was cry your eyes out, but it seemed like you couldn't even do that right anymore. You felt like a failure. What kind of hero made someone as broken-hearted as you had. It no longer even mattered whether or not you had meant to, or even done what he was convinced. The way his friends were looking at you was the way you deserved to be glared at. Like a villain.

You intended to run until you made it out of the building, but you didn't make it that far. Instead, you ran into what must have been a wall as it didn't move at your impact. You looked up and rubbed at your nose that now throbbed like your heart. Only to be surprised when you instead came face to face with someone you didn’t even notice had been missing from the class 3-A. Eijirou Kirishima.

Your heart filled with hope for only a moment, as wherever Kiri was, Bakugou was close by. But the joy didn’t last for long as you remembered that you had probably just ruined everything for him, instead of him being the secret weapon you could use to fix everything.

“(L/n), are you alright?” Kirishima's soft eyes seemed like the most hopeful thing you had seen all day, despite your life only being ruined within the last 10 minutes.

“Kiri… where Bkauogu?” You asked, only to receive a huff from your left.

“Are you blind to you shitty girl?” Somehow, you found his yelling calming. At least, for now, you had two people that would believe in you, even if that decreased to one once they made it to class.

“Bakugou, you have to tell them.” Your relief only seemed to cause your body to cry even more. The whirlwind of emotions just didn’t seem to be able to stop. You took a few steps back from the boys and attempted to regain your bearings as your sleeves wiped at your face uselessly. Your skin only stung now, from being viciously massaged so many times already.

“What are you talking about?” Bakugou seemed more agitated now, though you could tell it wasn't at you. He was concerned to see you in such a state no matter how much he would eventually deny it.

“K-Kaminari.. He thinks that I-” Your throat seemed to close up at the thought of saying such terrible words. Kirishima's phone sounded off as you struggled to swallow the lump that prevented you from getting out what you needed to say. You at least needed them to know, for your own sanity more than anything else. You desperately needed them to know the truth.

“(L/n), I just got a text from Sero.” Your heart felt as though it had switched places with your stomach. “Did.. Did you really cheat on Kaminari?”

“NO!” It was the first time you really felt like you were able to defend yourself since this whole situation started. Even if it was through one word you arguably yelled much too loud.

“You cheated on him?!” Bakugou immediately yelled, apparently ignoring your previous comment. You glared at the blonde, suddenly overcome by burning anger.

If it wasn't for him and his stupid tsundere personality you wouldn't be here right now. A normal person would have just accepted the hug, or at least pushed you away gently. But NO. He had to do everything aggressively. Pushing you away so hard that he fell with you. Maybe if he wasn't so fucking loud no one would have acknowledged the two of you in the stairwell in the first place!

And now he was going to have the balls to ask you? If you cheated on Kaminari???!!!

“I said no!” You countered, your breathing came out in huffs. Enough that you could feel the oxygen course through your body just like your anger. “He got sent pictures, totally out of context... of earlier this morning when we were in the stairwell! And now he won't talk to me and everyone in your class hates me and no one is listening…”

In that moment you felt like Kaminari did earlier. All of your anger faded into complete despair. Did it even matter if two people knew the truth? Did the truth even matter?

Obviously, you were just a terrible person anyway. What kind of person lies to everyone they know? Especially their boyfriend, or what used to be… He deserved to know, you should have made that decision together. But you were being selfish and

Villainous.

You didn’t even deserve to be at UA. You didn't deserve to even be TRYING to be a hero. You didn't have the right to even know anyone from UA. You were scum compared to them.

The tears you thought had dried up just came back, causing you to miss the widened scarlet eyes of the boys before you. Only, neither of them could get a word out before a certain teacher rounded the corner.

“Why is it every time you are left unattended chaos ensues?” He asked, looking at the student he had mentored for three years now. His eyes flicked to you, “(L/n), you need to head for class. The bell is about to ring.”

“I-I know but-” You tried to figure something out. You didn’t even know what you were “but” ing for.

“No buts Miss (L/n), it's important that you train for the finals. You don't have the time to slack off.” He motioned for the boys to head to class, and they seemed stiff as they passed you. Probably still in shock. More Bakugou that Kirishima, considering Kirishima must have just been confused about what was going on.

“Please tell him! He doesn't deserve to think what the pictures show, I can't handle him being so broken.” You muttered out.

“(L/n), class. I dont know whats going on right now but I will not let it get in the way of your education. So I will not say it again.” Aizawa spoke, he only moves on when you began heading the way you had been running just a few minutes ago, knowing full well the last place you would be going was class. You felt empty by now, all the emotions that had crowded your brain earlier now fading out. Leaving you with nothing but the words the blonde last said to you before you passed him.

“I’ll tell him, (l/n).”

***

Taglist: @irisallenm@carolinawindsay@spoiledgordita@multi-fandomslover@i-bitch-you-bitch@ravan-blood@ochabby

#bnha x reader #kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #mha x reader #denki kaminari x reader #nesawrites

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dr-habit-b · 4 years

Text

In pursue of happiness

Stressed and tired.

Yeah, that was a good descriptor of Kamal on any given day. These last few specifically applied especially well, however. He’s not sure why exactly. He never is, but.. he can take a guess.

He rolled from his side to his back, staring up at the ceiling of his room as he hugged a mess of blankets against himself. He’d been awake for hours, but after doing his morning routine.. he just got right back in bed. He couldn’t bring himself to step out the door and face the work day.

Face his boss.

He groaned and smothered his face with his blankets, like it would help him stop thinking about it. But face it, Kamal, its all you’ve been thinking about. When he uncovers his face again he glances towards his window, sunlight slipping in from under his curtains. It had to be well past noon by now.

There was nothing he could do, he had decided hours ago. After extensive thinking, that was his only conclusion. And it frustrated the hell out of him. But honestly, realistically, it was true wasn’t it? He wasn’t stupid, he knew Habit had some... stuff going on, to say the least. Stuff he’d probably never be privy to, cause that’s not his business. So what changed? Why, all of a sudden, did this bother him so much?

...Maybe it was that someone else saw it too. That Habit wasn’t okay. Which confirmed to Kamal that his worries weren’t all just in his head, like they normally are. This was.. real. Very real.

Too real.

The idea that Habit was depressed wasn’t anything new to him. He understood, even though personally he found himself more Anxious than depressed, he’d been there before in his life. He could have helped, had it just been that.

But it... wasn’t, was it.

The idea that Habit went through some kind of trauma was very new to him. Not for any particular reason, it had just.. never crossed his mind. Personally, the biggest traumatic event he went through was falling down the stairs as a kid. That gave him a weird phobia of stairwells, but that was about it. Very cut and dry.

Habit, on the other hand... Kamal didn’t have a single, static idea. There was no way he could possibly guess whatever he must have gone through. Even with the little snippets he knew.. like how Habit was a dentist, and how he profusely refused to talk about it. How the mention of family makes him uncomfortable. A bad home life, maybe? But that could mean so many different things...

Even if he did find out, even if he did manage to get Habit to finally spill the truth... well, what then? What would he even do with information like that? Tell him ‘wow, that sucks, im so sorry.’? Was that it, was that really all Kamal could offer him? A few heartbroken words of apology, when he wasn’t even the one at fault?

No, that was shitty. That was so unbelievably shitty. If someone did that to him, he knows he wouldn't feel any better. So he shouldn't do that to Habit.

Augh, this is assuming Habit would even tell him about these things! He’s made it abundantly clear that there are just some things he Will Not talk about. Kamal respects that, because its not his business.

But, god. God it tears him up inside.

It would be one thing if he was just. Worried about his boss, about his friend. But it was just never one thing with him, was it! He tucked his face against his bundle of blankets in his arms, letting out a weary sigh as he felt his face flush.

This was ridiculous, and, and totally unprofessional, and just!...

Hrrmm... Not fair.

Coming to terms with these feelings had been a Process, one that Kamal still wasn't even through with. But no matter how many circles he ran himself in, no matter how he tried to rationalize or explain away the tight, warm feeling in his chest, he came back to the same answer.

He cared about Habit. More than a boss, more than a friend. Admitting it was hard, considering their professional relationship as boss and assistant. It felt... wrong, somehow. Who falls for their boss?

Suppose Kamal does. And truthfully, was it even.. that weird? After all, Habit and Kamal never really acted like boss and assistant. Those were terms they used, sure, but... first and foremost, it felt like they were friends above all else.

Maybe that’s why it was so easy.

Why it was so easy for them to get along in a way boss and assistant probably wouldn’t otherwise. Playful banter and comments were normal and expected. Habit was a very touchy-feely sort of guy so hugs, head pats, and general comforting touches became normal and expected. Kamal remembered when he thought it was weird, but he got used to it. He liked it, it made him feel... warm, and like he was home.

Lately, that warm, home-y feeling had become so much that it hurt. And oh, god, did that scare him something fierce. Because what.. what was he supposed to do? Even if he did risk trying to see if Habit felt the same way, he.. there was still so much he didn’t know. So much he knows he wouldn’t have the skills to deal with. Sure the possibility of rejection was scary enough as is, but. The thought of trying anyways, and screwing up, or.. hurting him? That was a thousand times more terrifying.

He cared about Habit. The big lug was just an awkward, well meaning teddy bear. He just wanted to make people happy, probably cause.. he wasn’t a very happy guy growing up. He had a big heart and even bigger imagination. He was so friendly and did his best to get along with everyone he came in contact with. It was charming when he gave folks Russian pet names, or how he slipped back into it when talking to himself. And, maybe most importantly, he was really respectful. Kamal’s not sure he’s ever been somewhere or met someone that respected people’s pronouns and comfort so much before.

He finds himself groaning into his blankets again, finding his face even hotter than it was before. That was all well and good, sure. He’ll admit it, he likes Habit! But...

That persistent, nagging anxiety is still there, at the forefront of his mind. The thought that he’ll hurt Habit if he tries to act on his feelings. The thought that he cant do anything to help him in a worthwhile way. Its quick to drain away all that warmth, and leave him feeling cold and tired.

Some assistant he was. Whatever. He was gonna sulk in bed all day. He’d apologize to Habit t-

Knock knock.

Kamal’s thoughts screeched to a halt and his heart jumped up into his throat as the silence of his room was broken. He was so startled and frazzled that he didn’t register the sound of his name, but when he heard the click of his door open he bolted upright just in time to see Habit poke his head in curiously.

Their eyes met and Kamal could see Habit visibly relax.

“Kamal! Oh, goode I was worryed.. You did not an-swer me when I knocked....” He gives the other a sheepish grin opening the door the rest of the way and stepping in. He taps his fingers together a little bit, and worry creeps into his expression again.

“Are... yew o-key? You hav’nt beene to the office.. ah, it is o.k if you’re are not feeling well!! Dide you get sick?” He’s quick to make sure Kamal knows he doesn't have to come up if he’s not feeling well. “Have u eat-en? Eye cam go get soup!”

Kamal’s chest gets all tight, and its almost enough to make him cry. Stop it, stop, stop. He shakes his head and turns away from Habit, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I-... Im.. ok, just... Not really in the mood t’get up, y’know?...” That was... honest enough, he thinks. After a moment of quiet he glances back over at Habit, only to flinch seeing him right next to his bed. Oh Jesus big guy, how were you so quiet?

Habit sighs, before giving Kamal a bright smile.

“Non-sence!! Yew will note feel bettr juste staying in bed! Come, come, I wiil help you.” Before Kamal can protest Habit scoops him up into his arms much like how he did that time Kamal was panicking. He looks pretty proud of himself, even as Kamal sputters in embarrassment.

He would have set Kamal down, had he asked or protested! He would! But he didn’t seem uncomfortable, at least, just embarrassed. That’s okay, the elevator ride up to the office is very short, and Habit is quick to set Kamal down once those doors open into the office. He’ll give him another smile and a pat on the head before stepping inside and going over to their little coffee station. Kamal has presumably been in bed all day, sleeping a lot.. he must be tired! Coffee will help. Coffee always helps.

For a second Kamal could only stand there, his face flush and his chest and throat so tight he felt it was a miracle he could even breathe. He finally stepped out just before the elevator doors started to close on their own, and he made his way to the office computer. The sunlight coming in from the window-wall stung enough as is, but the light of the big, clunky computer was... almost worse. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and decided to poke his head online a bit, see what was happening.

It was becoming very apparent that spending all day in his dark room, barely moving, and then suddenly being carried out into direct sunlight and made to move was gonna give him a killer headache. By the time Habit finished getting Kamal’s coffee already, he was holding his head in his hands and rubbing his temples.

Habit frowned to himself as he set the mug nearby, tapping his heels against the ground. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten Kamal up... it was a little rude, but he knows how laying around all day feels. Good in the moment! Very not good afterwards. He thought..

Before he could even think about saying sorry, Kamal is already waving him off with one of his hands. He could feel his boss just, staring at him with worry. Didn’t even have to look.

“Im- Im fine, okay. Just... got a headache. Don’t. Worry about it.” He drags a hand down his face with a sigh, picking up his mug and taking a sip of his coffee.

...His tone was too harsh just then, but it was too late to take it back now. He avoids looking at Habit, and after a second of silence he hears a small ‘ok’ before listening to those heels move away from him. His heart sinks, and now he just feels worse. Great, good job Kamal.

The rest of their time spent in the office is... quiet and awkward. Kamal spends a bit of time online chatting a bit, finishing his coffee, but ultimately.

He doesn’t feel any better.

When his headache starts getting too much for him to deal with he finally gets up and leaves. He gives Habit a wave and a short ‘going to bed’, but that’s it. He still doesn’t make eye contact or anything. Just... feels too awkward right now. Try again tomorrow, maybe.. after some sleep he’ll stop being so stirred up inside.

----------

Sleep didn’t help.

Kamal could hardly get himself to fall asleep after he left, and even when he did finally doze off, he kept waking up on and off all throughout the night. Reminded him a lot of his stressed out, tiring college days. You know, like... half a year ago now.

God he’d been working for Habit for about half a year now. It felt like forever...

When the sun finally started to rise, Kamal was already up and about. There was no point in making himself feel even worse trying on and off to get himself to sleep like he had been. He was in bed almost all day yesterday... he had to make it up to Habit.

An extensive morning routine later, he got himself dressed in clean clothes and made his way out of his room. He stopped, briefly, to look at the door to Habit’s room. He contemplated, for a second, knocking and seeing if he was up and about too. Habit was an early riser too... but, no. They could just talk when they met in the office.

The ride up the elevator was quiet and awkward. Stepping into the office was even more quiet and awkward. It didn’t seem like Habit was up yet, which... surprised him, but. It was early, maybe even earlier for him. Maybe.. he was getting some good rest, for once. Hopefully that was the case!

...Who was he kidding. After yesterday, after being so?... Worrying. Even he worried himself. He shouldn’t be letting his mess of feelings affect how he treats Habit. Or, anyone for that matter..

Its a while of just working in silence. He logged into the computer, checked some emails, checked some bills afterwards... not much going on today. Might be a nice, quiet day to just... relax! Relax. That sounds like a good day.

Once he gets some of his daily checkups finished he goes and starts making coffee. He’ll get one for Habit ready too, full of creamer and sugar, he’d appreciate it. Once he finishes he takes his coffee back over to the computer, taking a seat with a sigh. He sips idly as he decides to check on the blog this morning... and almost spits out his drink onto the screen. Wait, wait, what? It looked like there was a new post on blog... he looks around the room for a second, taking in the silence before looking back on the screen. When did Habit?.. Well, he was a very.. sneaky kind of guy, but. Geez, not even a hello?... Or was he just that spaced out making coffee? He couldn’t be 100% sure. Both options were... plausible.

Kamal decides to pull his knees up against his chest, sipping from his coffee idly as he just stared at the computer screen and waited. He kept glancing around the room, as if to see if Habit was sneaking up on him or not. He hadn’t even heard the elevator... or did he? He couldn’t even remember anymore, he was so focused on listening to the brewing coffee.

He groans as he thumps his head against his knees, silently cursing himself for being so... Like This. Useless, stupid assistant... get a grip already. You can do this.

Getting up and walking around a little sounds like a good idea, so thats what Kamal does for the next few hours on his own. Walks around, does some stretches, nothing special. Every now and then he’ll step out onto that little balcony, peering down into the carnival area and looking to the terrace. Hoping he’d see Habit, and maybe get the chance to wave at him, but. No such luck. Maybe he was hanging out with Jimothan or those artists... someone inside, probably. Hopefully.

Against his better judgement, he finds himself spacing out a little, just looking out into the sky. This place really was nice, up in the mountains... they always wondered what exactly this building was used for before Habit came along and bought it, but they never figured anything out. Maybe it was an abandoned passion project, or some sort of strange hotel. They’d never know. Guess it didn’t really matter-

Something suddenly brushes up against his back and his breath catches in his throat as he turns quickly, finding himself staring up at his boss. A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth and he hangs his head for a second as he lets out an over-exaggerated sigh, looking back up at Habit with a grin.

“M-man, big guy, can... can we like. Tie some bells to your sleeves, or something? Y.. you’re way too quiet.”

Habit looked worried for a second, afraid he made a mistake, but when his friend smiles up at him... he relaxes a bit, giving him a little smile back.

“Ah, but yew were note an-swering me.... Are... You feel-img bettr than yes-terday?”

Kamal visibly cringes and he sighs again, dragging his hands down his face for a second. So, he probably did space out earlier, too. God that must’ve been so weird, what was wrong with him?

Wait, no, don’t answer that. He shakes his head, dismissively waving his hands.

“I- no, no I mean yeah I’m. Better. Look, I uh...” He looks back up at Habit, making an effort this time to actually look at him as he speaks this time. His hands go behind him, holding onto the railing of the balcony.

“I’m... real sorry, ‘bout yesterday. I was... Had. Still have. A lot on my mind, and I was all stressed out, but I shouldn’t have... taken that out on you, even if it was only a little bit. So I’m... I’m real sorry, d-... Habit.” He tried his best to keep eye contact, but as he spoke his gaze drifted, till he stopped looking at his boss all together. He just couldn’t help feeling like he had to run away, to hide, to curl up into a tiny little ball and just disappear.

Habit just watched and listened carefully, intently, smiling gently at Kamal even as he started avoiding eye contact. When he finished he reached down and pat his head, only to run his hand down the side of his face and under his chin, coaxing him to look back up at him.

“It iz okay, Kamal. You should’nt worry so much for me. I... should note have gotten you up so sudden-ly. It should be me say-ing sorrey to you.” He smiles a little bigger, and is thankful when Kamal doesn’t protest. He doesn’t move his hand for a little while, till he starts getting embarrassed himself and decides its gone on too long.

He ushers them back inside more boisterously, hoping to clear the awkward air he feels he just created. He’s not dumb, he saw how red Kamal’s face got.

They head back over to the desk, Habit lets Kamal have the chair again while he leans against the desk. He’s tall enough to sit on it pretty easy, but he wont, that’s rude. He sips his cold coffee and they talk about mundane things for a bit.

Bills, emails, whats going on online, how check in went... normal stuff. Everything was normal!

“Do... yew want to. Talk a-bout?... Whate has been botherimg you?...” He gazes down into his last bit of coffee when he asks that question, tapping sharp fingers against the mug, making a peasant little sound. He can see Kamal stiffen up from the corner of his eye.

“It is o-key if you do’nt wante two. I under-stande.” He finishes the last of his coffee, but keeps the mug in his hands, continuing to make that pleasant little clinking noise with his tapping. He glances over to Kamal, who has his knees up against his chest. He really liked to sit like that... Habit never found it very comfortable, honestly.

He perks up curiously seeing Kamal take a big breath, his gaze softening as he realizes he’s trying to calm himself down. He starts to say something, but pauses when his assistant looks at him again.

His expression was... determined! But nervous, and anxious, and a little bit flushed. Habit just barely suppressed a snicker. Not that he would have laughed at Kamal, but... it was very cute. The determination drains from his face as he finally starts to speak, though.

“I just... don’t know if I. Should, y’know? I just, I mean.....” He waivers for a second before bumping his head against his knees with a frustrated groan.

“I. Care about you, Habit. A lot.” Okay, that part was out. Just.. gotta keep going, keep the momentum.

“But its... it’s hard! Not- I mean- not the.. the caring party, I-I more mean the...” No, no, stop. Pause. Take a breath. Try again.

“It’s just that... you’re. You’re my boss... that’s like. A whole thing on it’s own, but at the same time...” His chest tightens, and his expression saddens. Even just thinking about it, about...

“I don’t... really know you. At all. I mean, I know you’re a good guy, obviously. You.. have a big heart, and even bigger imagination. You really... care about other people, and what they want, and what they need. You’ve got such a.. positive energy around you that I just. Wish I had, or, wish I could... be apart of, maybe.” His face flushes a little more, but the words are coming easier now.

Now came the harder thoughts.

“But you never... talk about yourself. And I know that its.. hard, I do. You... you gotta gimmie something to work with though. Like, I.. up until a little while ago, I didn’t even know Habit wasn’t your first name? All I know is, is the tiny bits and pieces that I’ve had to gather and put together myself! And that’s!....” He lifts his head and looks up at Habit again. This time, the taller man avoids eye contact.

“That’s not fair. I- we, promised. That we would talk to each other! I just- I don’t even wanna know everything I just...” He starts to lose steam a little bit, and his momentum is grinding to a halt. He just feels tired now.

“I don’t wanna be in the dark about everything about you... I don’t, don’t wanna have to sit here and.. and assume, and worry, and just not know. All I know, for sure, is that... you had a bad childhood, and you still get nightmares about it. That.. could mean a million different things, a million different ways to know how to... to handle it, I just. I cant just... try and guess.” His voice progressively starts to sound more.. on the verge of panic, maybe? He can feel it in the way he talks, but he’s just so. Tired. He wants to help, he wants to know.

Maybe that was selfish of him.

For a moment that dragged on for an eternity, the two of them simply existed in complete silence. Hugging his knees to his chest was all Kamal could do to keep himself from bolting out of this chair and running away. Or throwing up. Either or. He could feel the anxiety spread from his chest to the rest of his body.

Habit didn’t feel much better. He stared at his mug so intently, you’d think he was trying to shatter it with gaze alone. Just in the tone of his voice, he could tell how deeply Kamal cared. And how much this meant to him, right here, right now.

It was like daggers in his heart. He’d never felt this from someone else before. It was always him giving out this sort of feeling to people. It was like being so deprived of food and finally getting a good meal, after years and years of nothing but scraps, that you couldn’t even scarf down or enjoy without making yourself sick.

Suppose he should have expected this. Lately, his nightmares had been worse. He desperately had been trying to put the past out of his mind, but... recently, it was like everything brought it back to the forefront of his brain. Like an annoying pop-up ad that wouldn’t let you hit the X to close it. It was bleeding out into how he acted, how he reacted, his mannerisms, the little things that made him jump.

Kamal was so smart, of course he noticed. How could he not? It was a miracle none of the other Habititans were as nosey.

After what felt like an eternity, Habit let out a long breath he had been holding. He turned to look at Kamal, his eyes tired and sad. Their gazes met, and this time, neither of them looked away.

“You... really wante to know? You want to knowe thise... part of me, ev-en if it changes how you feel?”

Kamal blinked, Habit’s last comment giving him pause. Changed how he?.. What was he about to tell him, exactly? It could just be an exaggeration, to make him back off, but...

After thinking about it for a second Kamal moved his legs so that his feet were on the ground again, looking up at his boss with a serious expression on his face.

Habit stared at him for a long while before giving him a weary smile, sighing heavily. He mumbled a quiet ‘ok’ before deciding to take a seat on the floor, cross legged with that mug still in his hands. He kept it to occasionally tap on as he thought over his words, where to start, how to say certain things...

He was quiet for a long time as he deliberated, but Kamal was patient, and waited quietly. He even slid down from the office chair to sit on the floor with his boss, which got him to chuckle just a little bit. It seemed to relax both of them, being on equal ground.

After a while, Habit finally spoke.

“Mine family was.... not. The best.” He started, and immediately his expression contorted into an expression Kamal had never seen on Habit before.

Hatred.

Habit tried so, so hard. For almost all of his life, to not let hatred become a normal feeling in his heart.

There had to be times when it slipped in, however. It couldn’t be helped.

“Mom was... verrey over-bearing. She al-ways wanted me to be juste like her. Her... малышка.” He grimaces at that word, not that Kamal understood. “Even whene I told her, thate I was.. umcomfortable, or did’nt want to do something... she did not listen. Ever. How do you say, ah, thate phrase... ‘Mother knowes best’? Yes, that was her. And if I did note list-en...” He shut his eyes for a second, letting out a sigh through his nose before he opened them again. “She... waz not the worste, at least. But, she woulmd pull on mine hair, un-til I cried and cried for her to stop. I am verriy sensative to it even now.. A smal tug will hurt like yew are ripping hair out.” He looks over at Kamal a bit and offers him a reassuring smile. No, he’s not upset you pulled his hair that one time. You didn’t know.

He looks back to his coffee mug, idly rotating it in his hands. When he thinks about what he’s going to say next, he cant help but let out a very short, bitter bark of a laugh.

“My... dad, on thee oth-er hande. Much, muche worse. Two bothe of us, me ande mom.” He stops for a second, taking a deep breath. Trying to settle his anger for a moment, before it bubbled over. “He... only re-spected himselfe. No-one else. God could have come downe in front of him, ande he would note care. He was.... was...” He scratches at the mug in his hands, biting his bottom lip a little bit. Even now, even now.... He shakes his head, resigning that thought for the time being.

“Mom and dad were bothe doc-tors. They were fighting all the time.... Yelling. Screaming. Ne-ver smiling. It... made me so sad.” Even thinking about it now, after everything. It still made him sad. “Once, when I waz... ten. On-ly ten. I had raized a verre special flower.... I wamted to show them. To make them Happy.... I loved flowers verri much, back then... but...”

He sucked in a sharp breath, raising a hand to cover his mouth for a second. He flinched slightly feeling a touch on his arm, only to look and see Kamal staring up at him worriedly. He managed to smile from behind his hand, letting out a shaky breath. He laid a hand over top Kamal’s and left it there, while his gaze drifted upwards.

“Mine dad... he... saw me giving kissies to my flower. I wamted to make him happy, my lily.... but... it did note make dad happy. I stille do not know why, but he got so. Mad. Fury-ous. He... hurt my lily. Thene, he hurt me.” He finds himself lightly tracing over the scars where it happened. He remembered it vividly, and it made him shudder uncomfortably. He wouldn’t go into detail.

“Hhe.. broke mine smile. I was... bro’kn. And my lily was hurt. Oh, I could heer him cryimg.... it was aw-ful. At first, I felt more sad for my lily... but..." He lets out a short, bitter laugh. "Like I saide, I waz... bullied, harsh-le, by mine peers, for my bro'kn smile."

He glances down at Kamal, who hadnt looked away from him this whole time. He could see the worry and pain on his face clear as day... it hurt his heart. He didnt want people to worry about him.

But... Kamal wanted to know. He looks back down at the mug in his hand, his other squeezing Kamal's underneath it.

"They wamted me two be a doc-tor too... they forced me. Eye had no say. I waz made to have per-fect grades, I had tutors, and ex-tra lessons frome a verre early age... hahh, it worked! I waz al-wayes the top of my class.... By the time I waz al-most graduated, I made a de-cision... if I had to be a doctor, eye would be one who helped thoze with bro'kn smiles. Like mine. I be-came a dentist. I... left my home, ande came here. It waz what mine parents wanted, but... I waz happy to leave. To be a-way from them." He sucks in a sharp breath, letting out a long breath. "I hav'nt seen theme since. It haz been... years and years."

He looks wsary as he thinks about the next portion of his life. It... was easier, but.

"Coll-ege, was.... fine. People were so.. un-happy, thou. Just like mom n' dad. No smiles. So muche.. complaining, amd fighting, and sadness. I could'nt bee happy either. I juts wamted to finish and go worke. I... I waz able to finally be me, thou. Thate... thate was nice." He perks up a bit feeling Kamal squeeze at him, and when their eyes meet, he can read his confusion easily. He smiles sheepishly, before turning his head away.

"I waz... raised as a. A girl, yew know. Long long time ago now... But whene I got here, a-way from... everyone eye ever knew, I de-cided to change. It.. it was verrey hard, amd. I still got... got bullied, a lot, but. I chamged my name! And cut my haire... and no, I did'nt like it, haha." He smiles almost.. fondly at the memories, before he starts frowning again. "I stille get... nervouse, going by mine new name. As if... my parents will. Will show up, amd yelle at me, and tell me I ca'nt. Thate it iz not normal, that I ame just..."

He shuts his eyes and grimaces, trying to push the bad thoughts out of his head. No, its okay, you're. Okay. When he opens his eyes again he looks down at Kamal, giving him a small smile.

"The name I chose for mine self, waz.. is, Boris. I do note know, but.. some-thimg about it felt.. right. May-b it was cause it sounded manley, haha! I.. liked it, thou." He casts his eyes downwards, humming a bit. "I coulde never change my laste name... I wamted to, to... tru-ly escapt my parents, but... ah, weel. Mine uncle was a verre good man. Kimd, but stern, and always nice to me... I su-pose I kept it to staye close to him, in a way. Thou, eye doubt I will... ever see him againe."

He takes a deep breath, slowly exhaling through his nose. He doesnt look at Kamal when he speaks up again.

"I knowe it does'nt seem like it, but... there iz a deep, deep hatred for mine parents in my heart. I woulde not be sad for they're deaths. They were..." His voice catches a little bit, but he pushes through it. "...evil. Thate is what I thimk. I coulde tell you so, so much that they did, but... it would be two much. Fore you, and me. I think... yew get the pic-ture though, hah..."

He feels two hands squeezing his arm now and he looks back to Kamal wearily, blinking at his determined expression.

"Do you really think that- that me knowing... any of that, would. Would seriously change how I see you?" His voice cracks a tiny bit, full of emotion threatening to spill over. Habit's- no, Boris' surprised expression doesnt change this. "I still care about you, I care about you so much. I want... to be here for you, to, t-to help you, and, and I..."

Kamal shakes his head and rubs his eyes for a second, fighting off tears threatening to spill over. Be strong, be strong. When he looks back up at Boris, his eyes are still teary, but his expression is still full of resolve.

"I w.. wanna see you happy, Boris. I wanna see you smile for real. Please..."

Ohh... now its time for him to get all teary eyed. Emotions well up in his chest and throat, dangerously close to turning him into a blubbering mess. He hadn't known what to expect, he had never... told anyone these things, before, but he had been expecting the worst. For Kamal to.. get scared, or.. upset, or even grossed out maybe, but no.

Kamal was always so kind and sincere to him. They hadn't even known each other for very long. It was so... he didnt even know how to explain.

"Yy.. y-you're are sh.. shore, Kamal?" His voice breaks, and his tears finally spill over. He has to confirm, he needs to be certain.

When Kamal nods, thats all he needs. He grabs Kamal and pulls him into a big hug, trying to hold back his sobs and failing. He wasn't so sure why exactly he was crying so hard. Talking about everything was draining, yes, but. It didnt make him cry. Maybe he was just... happy? Did people cry from happiness? He's not sure he ever has.

He's so used to crying when it feels like his heart is being torn apart. Right now, it feels more like... his heart is full to bursting, and it almost seems to make it worse? He doesnt know how to handle it, so he just.

Clings to Kamal, crying against him while the other rubs his back and pets his hair, faintly hearing him say that it was okay.

Things were okay.

----------

The rest of the day slowed to a crawl. The two of them left the office to Boris' room. No words were exchanged, they didnt need to be, right now. The two of them.. simply existed with each other, in quiet content, until the day grew long and sleep took in the both of them.

Morning was no different than normal, except they woke with each other. They exchanged embarrassed, sleepy smiles, giggling like kids who just got away with something.

They separated to do their respective morning routines, reuniting in the elevator. They still said nothing to each other, but continued to exchange little smiles, only to giggle like they were playing some sort of game.

Things slowly returned to normal as they returned to work, but it was more... relaxed. Normally Habit was the touchy-feely one, but Kamal found himself playing with his boss' hair, leaning against him, touching his arm... occasionally their hands would touch, but. They'd start laughing, and never actually held hands.

Boris was sure he'd never felt this good in his whole life. He really was... happy, for once.

#the smiler (ooc)#smile for me #smile for me game #dr. habit #kamal bora #the smiler's stories (mun writing)#long post #(drabble done! mostly i think lol)#(i may come back and edit when i have... actual wifi)#(instead of my phone's hotspot)#(and a desk to work from)#(but!!!! but but but)#(IM... happy with this i think)#(i feel like my interpretation as to how the habitat was before flower kid came along is verryy different than what most peopel thing hsdfh)#(REGARDLESS)#(i hope some of y'all can enjoy the read u wu feel free to lmk what you think!!!)#(i worry about how i write Kamal sometimes so hdsfhf)#(also idk if i rly like the title but whatever)#(flaps my hands)

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mtvswatches · 4 years

Text

Jane the Virgin 3x03 Chapter Forty-Seven

Click here for previous recaps!

Stray thoughts

1) I really hope this is not another bait...

There’s so much buildup that I wonder if this is going to be disappointing. Or if it will even happen at all…

Well, we’re back to where they got the go-ahead from the doctor, but...

2) People keep interrupting them, and I just wonder why Jane won’t just be open about it and tell her mom, dad, and grandma that they want some privacy to finally get laid!

3) “If you weren’t a singer, what would you be?”

It’s an interesting question indeed, considering she’s not really a singer and she hasn’t done much with her life so far. It’s a weird question to be asking yourself when you’re pushing forty, right? But I guess Xiomara always followed her impulse and that’s how she led her life, there wasn’t really much time to think about what she wanted to do. I’m kind of curious to see where they go with this.

4) New character, I guess?

So, this is Cecilia, Alba’s sister and the one responsible for telling everyone Alba wasn’t a virgin on her wedding day.

5) Oh, thank god!

I found the whole “You and I finishing at the same time” comment… odd? And tbh, Jane doesn’t look very satisfied. But at least she got it over with! Of course, he fell asleep right after, and it doesn’t feel as magical as she’d expected, I guess. But I mean, why should it? Expectations about the first time having sex should be very low, but culturally women are raised to make this huge deal of their “first time” and “losing their virginity”, and it’s very difficult to shed those expectations, right?

6) OMG she’s sending a sex tape of her first time with her husband to her advisor!

But… the most important question is, is she going to watch that video? Will Michael and Jane watch it? Will they do a play-by-play analysis? Will he notice that she didn’t really come?

7) “It was actually my first time” “Oh, that explains things…”

Well, the advisor (I’m sorry, can’t remember her name!) made it out to look like she was talking about her writing – which she might well have been – and how it was lacking something. I think I’ve actually mentioned this before, but It’s kind of odd for Jane to be a romance writer and to be writing sex scenes without actually having experienced sex herself. The advisor makes a good point – romance without sex is just fantasy. And I’m not saying that you can’t have romance if you’re asexual. But that’s not the type of stories Jane is writing or the audience she’s writing for. Anyway, I think the advisor was actually talking about her performance in the tape and not her writing. Or maybe both.

8) I knew it.

And of course, her friend tells her NOT TO TELL MICHAEL, and I’m like, huh? I just wish this would stop being a storyline? Both the faking and the not-talking to your partner about your feelings regarding the sexual experiences you share with them. Not having an orgasm is just part of the sexual experience and there’s nothing wrong with it, and sex can still be enjoyable even when you don’t have an orgasm. So let’s see where they take this storyline. I’m guessing Michael is going to be super supportive, and will try to make it up to her.

9) Why is this still a thing in this show? We get it, Luisa is a fucking moron, and she makes terrible decisions. I wish there was more to her character than that.

10) And I know that we crave representation for LGBTQ+, but… Rose is a fucking psycho? And this is almost a textbook abusive relationship? She’s literally kidnapped Luisa, isolated her, and keeps telling her how she’s alone and Rose is the only one there for her. (and I’m not even touching on the whole murderer/drug lord thing because that’s just part of the zaniness of this show.)

11) Okay, Xiomara is considering moving on from singing, but move on to what?

12) I genuinely laughed at this.

13) Okay, I liked this joke.

JANE: What’s the CW? Like a streaming thing? ROGELIO: No, no! It’s a huge network! Look it up! Amazing shows! Fabulous line-ups!

Anyway, Jane is very intent on manipulating her mom into finding her passion for singing again, and I don’t know how I feel about this. Yes, Xiomara loves singing, but what is wrong with giving up? She hasn’t really made it, and there are other things she might be passionate about that she hasn’t figured out yet because she’s been pursuing her “singing career.” I know Jane is trying to be supportive, but if she truly were, she would just try to help her mom to find what other avenues she can pursue instead of tormenting her with her unfulfilled dreams. It just feels like another thing Jane does because it’s what she wants rather than being selfless and thinking of others.

14) See? This is why you should be honest with your partner about your orgasms or lack thereof…

At least it led to an honest conversation. Which led to this…

15) I’m loving this Cecilia character. I kind of wish she was the leading lady, actually. She’s so fun, even if she’s a figment of Jane’s imagination!

16) Rogelio is selling his show to the CW, but Rob Lowe will be the leading man, not him. I see how this could easily lead to an existential crisis for Rogelio, but I have so much faith in him, he’ll probably take it in stride and turn into a bigshot Hollywood producer.

17) Hm. Day two and Jane is already trying to spice up their sex life? This doesn’t bode well. And Michael is telling her not to discuss their glitch with anyone to protect his fragile ego? Because he tells her she can say they had sex, but that she shouldn’t mention how it wasn’t good? Double hm. And now Jane is with Xiomara, someone who could actually help her get out of her head and understand what she’s going through, but she keeps her mouth shut because Michael’s ego is more important.

18) And then she finds this…

I hope this sets her straight.

19) So… instead of getting on board with Xiomara wanting to move on after finding the list, Jane and Rogelio continue to plot to get her “back on track.” But why?

20) For a second, I thought Rafael had truly sent a caring, loving email to his sister, but it seems to be a ploy to get her to reply and reveal her location. Considering she’s a moron, she’ll probably fall for it, but it’s kind of sad? When she was reading the email, I was hoping it would be her wake-up call (if the fact that she literally jumped and gasped when Rose walked into her room wasn’t already a warning sign…) and that she would try and leave this toxic relationship. But if she’s being lured by false declarations of brotherly love… I don’t know, it feels wrong. Yes, she’s a fucking moron, but what makes her a moron is that she’s constantly looking for love and affection. That’s always her downfall.

21) Now, that is a cameo…

Loved the fan bit!

22) So… Rogelio got freaking Gloria Estefan to help Xiomara, but it never occurred to him that it might have the opposite effect. Because Xiomara has seen Gloria and Emilio casually sitting there and watching her show and she’s freaking out.

You bow to royalty.

23) So… Lina Has just offered to help Michael and Jane and demanded a play by play, and Michael remembered the sex tape. He’s not going to show it to Lina, though, right? He’s just going to watch it and figure out what went wrong.

24) Oh, no she didn’t!

Why is she so intent on convincing Xiomara to continue pursuing a career that hasn’t really worked out for her? She hasn’t made it, and it doesn’t look like she will anytime soon, and that’s OKAY! What’s wrong with wanting to try other things? What if she’s really talented at something else and she’s missing the opportunity to shine because she’s stubbornly fixated on being a singer? And why does it matter so much to Jane? Why does she need to control everything and everyone’s lives?

25) So… this whole obsession with Xiomara’s career is because… Jane gave up her virginity? Huh? That doesn’t make sense? How is Xiomara’s singing career a metaphor for Jane’s virginity? I’m just confused! The show is usually very good at pulling off this type of parallelism and metaphors, but this time it just didn’t work for me.

26) See? Xiomara had the right answer all along:

“With sex, it can take time to find your groove and figure out what you like, what you need. You’re just starting out. You’ll get there.”

27) So… they end up watching their own sex tape, and finally have satisfying intercourse, I guess. I kind of wish this storyline hadn’t been resolved in an episode, though, it doesn’t feel realistic.

28) So, that was the reason for the riff between Alba and her sister Cecilia…

29) Why am I always so much more invested in Rogelio’s storylines?

He apologized for the way he broke-up with her, and then they decided to embrace their artistic connection. And now he has six months to become famous in America so that he can be the lead of his own show in the CW hahaha! I feel this storyline will be lots of fun.

30) Look what the cat dragged in…

…a moron thirsty for love.

31) So… I guess Rose lied about the whole “I’m not a criminal anymore” thing. Shocker.

Rafael’s mom was on her kill list, before she even killed her. And Muter died holding a bible and clamoring for her son. I guess this will be Rafael’s storyline, then.

32) To be honest, I wasn’t a fan of this episode. Usually, the plot A and plot B are connected in a way that makes sense, and this week, it felt a bit far-fetched to have Jane obsess over Xiomara’s singing career because she had let go of her virginity. I don’t know, what are your thoughts? Let me know in the comments!

33) Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi. Thanks!

#Jane the Virgin #Gina Rodriguez #Jane Villanueva #Rogelio De La Vega #JTV #JTV recap #JTV 3x03 #mine #recap

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delicrieux · 5 years

Text

rubatosis | l.l.

HALLOWEEN WRITING CHALLENGE!🎃 day 2, word(s): cycles of the moon.

pairing: loki x f!reader

fandom: marvel

request: Hi! Can l have a loki imagine please? Reader is one of the strongest beings in the universe and part of the avengers. Soldier background like captain marvel etc and Loki lowkey flirts with him romantically all the time and reader thinks he has an endgame about using her powers so she ggets mad Finally loki snaps and makes wanda look inside his mind to prove he actually loves her? Luv u :) [ @imaginesyes]

warnings: none

words: 1,7k

author’s note: i changed it a bit! also YES i know that im late but tbh lill prolly be late to my own funeral so does it rly matter??? this is from this post and i will try to do all 30 of them!:) four, rubatosis ( the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat ).

feedback is always appreciated xoxo

masterlist | buy me coffee☕

Loki Laufeyson had taken a special interest in you and of course you would find that flattering, though unsettling and suspicious (the latter, more than anything). He would often appear in the same places you frequented, and he would spare no compliment, albeit most of them could be considered more of an insult rather than anything. It was annoying. Though funny. And nice in a sort of I-have-caught-the-gaze-of-a-trickster-god-is-that-even-good? way. He is definitely persistent and terribly charming when he wants to be, but to trust his word would be stupid and so you refrain from entertaining him because really now, you are a realist, and he definitely wants something.

You possess power and not once or twice did a man like Loki try to sweet talk his way into a favour. Normally you would send such a pest flying, though you have your doubts when it comes to Loki. That and he is Thor’s brother, and Thor is not only a friend but also a dear co-worker, and beating up his younger brother would surely break some sort of ethics code. You know Tony probably would not care of Loki’s well-being (might even cheer you on to be completely honest), but as a soldier you have a strict morale code and a tendency to listen to orders, either by contract or otherwise.

But even with all of this in mind you could not quite help being a bit smitten. And the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat made you wonder if he could hear it, too. The answer to that would be no, though you know he knows what he is doing to you. Irritation grew into anger fairly quick.

But to be fair, how does one not resist him? His eyes are the colour of a forest, dark, alluring, though icy, as if covered in snow; and he is most refined and graceful in movement. Not to mention he looks fantastic in a suit. Once, at a work party, he had noticed you lingering about away from the guests, enjoying solitude with a flute of champagne in your hand and a wistful look on your face. He had moved to your side seamlessly and said nothing for a whole minute. There was silence, though it was intimate, as if words were not needed in order to be close. You enjoy his voice, though you appreciate his silence perhaps more. He lies often, that you knew already. Only when his lips are sealed is he truly being genuine.

Alas, he could not help himself, and he leaned in, and you could faintly smell sandalwood and ink, “They are a rowdy bunch, aren’t they?” Strangely there was no malice in his voice; it was soft, amused, though thoughtful. His gaze was strained on Thor and his large glass of ale, telling an animated story to SHIELD agents, a tired-looking Captain America, giddy Nat, and grinning Tony who tried to steal the show quite literally. Loki then glanced at you, awaiting an answer.

“Yeah.” You said simply, “That’s why I like them.”

“But you don’t enjoy attention.” It was a quick observation; he was watching your reaction intently. You turned to him with a smile.

“If I did, I wouldn’t be standing by the door, would I?”

He grinned, “Well…” He drawled, “Perhaps you fancy a different kind of attention. It’s easier to spot you outside the crowd then within it, after all.”

“Looking at me often enough to know, huh?” You raised a brow. He shrugged.

“Why? Have you caught me staring?”

You gave him a look. He seemed awfully pleased with himself.

And then there was a night at Asgard, in the palace, serene and magical in every way. The whole world seemed to be asleep and the chirp of crickets and languid dance of fireflies was what awoke you, or so you mustered when you wandered the dark lonely halls. The air was fresh and warm; it was summer, it was always summer there. You had entered the gardens and even deep into the night the scent of roses was so sweet it was nearly choking. Under the moonlight you had found him. He was wandering, just like you had been.

At first Loki had seemed surprised to see you, though that slight shock had melted into a pleased smile and he had said something slick and you had replied with a roll of your eyes. The two of you fell into step and pebbles crunched under your feet. He was curious and you were alert. You passed statues and fountains, all appearing somehow prettier in the dark. You are not sure when he had started speaking of the moon and it’s cycles, though once he did you glanced upwards and saw it change from new to crescent and so on and so forth and that magnetic light along with his pleasant voice made it all so dreamlike.

Perhaps that was it; that was the night you had realised even if he did have some ulterior motive it didn’t matter because his company is much too valuable. The though made you even more bitter, if anything.

It’s late into the evening and Fall is merciless: cold, windy, rainy. The kitchen is alight with warm light and two cups of tea lay in the table, cooling by the minute. It tastes fruity, you conduct after a careful sip. The playfulness of the drink does not match the mood at all. You frown softly, stare into the depths of your mug and see your reflection in it. You sigh; your shoulders slump. This whole situation is absolutely hopeless.

Wanda, across from you, sits in her pyjamas and wonders how can she help. Seeing you so defeated is heart-breaking – you are one of the strongest people she knows, always ready to support someone both physically and mentally. She wishes she could use her powers – in a fleeting thought she imagined wiping your memory of a pesky, handsome prince, and now her mind, coming up empty of solutions, wanders to that idea again – though she knows you would not appreciate it (if you ever regained your memories, that is). The best she can do is make tea, or coffee, or hot chocolate at the very least and offer her warm embrace as a safe space where you can be loved and cherished and not toyed with.

Wanda would punch Loki. She had realised so when she noticed how conflicted you looked each time you even mentioned him.

“What if I talked to him?” Her voice is rasp, deep – perhaps silence had stretched for far longer than you had imagined. You glance up at her and she gives you a loving smile, “You know…Witch to trickster…”

“I… don’t think that would help much, W.” You mutter into your drink, “But I appreciate the effort. Really. Just… don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with him…Eventually.” You take another sip. “I just…wish I knew what he was thinking. If he’s serious. Or is this…just another ploy.”

She looks at you for a long while, “…What if we knew? What he was thinking. What if I could find out?”

You perk up, “You can do that?”

She smiles, “There are only few things that I can’t.”

It needs time, she explained and you decided to be patient for as long as your nerves allowed you, which to be fair was not that long. It was another gathering, another one of those meetups at Stark Tower that always ended in heated arguments. You held your ground when Loki approached you to wish you a lovely morning – even if it was pouring till noon – and you held your ground when Tony accused you of being on Steve’s side too much. Wanda was nowhere to be found. Unconsciously you searched for her, for any trace of her, and your heart skipped a beat when you felt her familiar warm aura pulse in the air like a heartbeat.

The conference was long and extremely draining. You were boiling on the inside when you entered and anxiety was choking you when you left but there was not even a ripple of this shown on your face. It had stopped raining a while ago. The air is cold and damp and you shiver before you pull your arms closer to your body. You stand outside and take in the scenery, breathe deeper, feel yourself align with nature and calm.

You feel her again behind you, and so you don’t jump when her hand lands on your shoulder in a comforting squeeze.

“…Well?” You ask, your throat dry and voice scratchy.

“I was thorough.” She says and you hear a smile in her voice, “And you know I don’t like him. You know I don’t. But there is no doubt in my heart that he likes you, (Name).” You turn to her, “Though, I’m not sure which is worse. He really liking you or just pretending.” She notes your confused gaze and sighs, “He’s dangerous.”

“We’re all dangerous, W.” You counter. “If we weren’t heroes we’d make for extremely powerful villains.”

“As long as you don’t forget that he was one.” She lets go of your shoulder, “Well, anyway. I met Tony in the hall on my way here. He looked frazzled.”

“Ah,” You nod, “he was being a baby again. Yelling at me for defending Steve.”

“One of these days those two will have a serious fight.”

“Yeah.” You agree. A few drops of cold rain dot your cheek, “Yeah they probably will. Have you seen Loki?”

“He disappeared right after the meeting. Sorry.”

“No, that’s fine. I…I’m not sure what I wanted to say anyway.”

It was past midnight when you left the Stark Tower; most of your time was spent trying to make amends with Iron Man himself, though he was too stubborn to listen. The only thing that kept you from snapping was the occasional glance out the window - the moon was full until it wasn’t, half alight until it was only a sliver. The cycles, they kept changing. Wherever Loki was, he was near enough to make those fantastic illusions.

He cares, you’d think and smile and look at the moon, he really does.

the end. hope you enjoyed!

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camillemontespan · 5 years

Text

a kingdom divided [part twenty nine: all the women that came before you]

Part Twenty Eight here if you want to catch up.

Angst and fluff is prevalent here. So much angst.

@jovialyouthmusic @pug-bitch @sirbeepsalot @moonlightgem7 @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @be-still-my-aching-heart @iplaydrake @dcbbw @carabeth @notoriouscs

************************************************************************************

The two brothers stared at each other for a long moment.

‘What do you mean you’re going to Cuba?’ Liam asked, breaking the silence.

Leo exhaled. ‘I have to go.’

‘But why?’ Liam asked, his voice becoming high pitched. ‘Why now? I think I have managed to heal the kingdom. Things will be more peaceful now, more settled! We can hang out again.. I missed you where you were gone.’ His voice cracked.

‘As great as that sounds, I just don’t think me being here is a good idea,’ Leo told him.

Liam settled back into his chair. ‘Can you explain why?’

Leo sat down in the chair opposite him and bit his lip, trying to think of the best way to explain this sudden 360 he was now spinning.

‘You are the King. If I was around, I would be a constant reminder to Cordonia that sometimes, the monarchy fails. I failed by abandoning our country and I will never forgive myself for that. I just don’t want to be a shadow on your reign. You should lead the kingdom with this fresh slate; you’ve been given the gift, Liam, to start again and be the King that dad wasn’t and what I could never be. I’m so, so proud of you and I don’t want to let you down again. I don’t want to mess up our relationship and I worry that if I stay, things will become cracked.’

Liam considered this explanation. ‘What about Olivia? You can’t just leave her, I thought you were just beginning something.’

‘Olivia wants nothing to do with me,’ Leo said bitterly.

‘Oh god. Leo, what did you do? Did you fuck a maid again? You know not to fuck the help!’

Leo’s eyes bulged. ‘I’m not like that anymore! I haven’t cheated on her.’

‘So why is she angry with you?’

‘It’s not that she’s angry with me, it’s more like she changed her mind. She doesn’t want me to hurt her so she ended things before the inevitable happened.’

‘You think leaving to go to Cuba isn’t going to hurt her?’ Liam asked, studying his brother. Leo clenched the arms of his chair. He looked at the floor then back at Liam.

‘I honestly don’t think she will care if I just leave,’ he said quietly. ‘She made it clear that I ruin everything I touch. I ruin women, I ruined Cordonia and I ruined my relationship with you. It’s best if I’m out the way.’

‘What utter bullshit,’ Liam said harshly. ‘She’s gotten inside your head and made you feel like you’re poison-’

‘I am poison, Liam,’ Leo replied.

‘You are my brother.’

They stared at each other once more. ‘Please don’t leave,’ Liam whispered. ‘Please. I need you.’

Leo sighed. ‘Nobody needs me.’

***********************************************************************

Olivia jumped when her door burst open. Whipping around, she came face to face with Liam who looked furious. ‘Liam! What’s happened?’

‘You happened,’ Liam said, pointing at her. ‘Because of you, Leo is going away. You made him feel like was poison, that he ruins everything, that he is worthless. He is going to fucking Cuba because of you and now I’m going to be left again. Thank you very much, Olivia. Hope you’re happy.’

Olivia stared at him. ‘He’s leaving?’

Liam nodded. ‘Yes. To Cuba.’

He swore he saw tears shine in her eyes but she looked down at her hand and examined her fingernails. ‘What Leo chooses to do is not my fault,’ she replied shortly. ‘If he wants to do his usual fuck off and leave trick, then let him.’

‘I don’t want him to leave!’ Liam burst out. ‘He’s my brother!’

‘He’s an adult, Liam. Let him make his own decisions.’

‘Don’t fucking patronise me.’

‘I’m not. I’m just being realistic; am I the only one here who sees things for what they are?’

‘I don’t know why you have changed your mind about him,’ Liam whispered, ‘but for Gods sake, Liv, he’s broken up. You’ve hurt him bad.’

‘Good. Better him than me.’

Liam’s eyes flashed. He thrust out his hand, offering an envelope. ‘He wrote you a letter before leaving for the private plane just now. Take it.’

Olivia took the letter mutely and watched as Liam stormed out of her room. With shaking hands, she opened the drawer in her dressing table and shoved the letter inside. She tried not to think about how that drawer held her dagger; the dagger she had used on Kiara; the fatal incident which Leo had tried to help her hide.

*************************************************************************

Leo looked out of the plane window, waiting for the plane to embark on its journey. He thought back over the last few months. He had been utterly blindsided by Olivia; she had caught him by surprise and he hadn’t predicted that he would end up falling in love with her.

Fullblown, head over heels, butterflies in the stomach, can’t stop thinking about her sort of love.

But she hadn’t wanted him. Leo understood her reasons; she wanted to protect her heart from him and Leo was a known breaker of hearts. He didn’t blame her in the slightest.

Leo still wanted her though.

He had written his letter to her slowly, thoughtfully. He wanted to convey his thoughts in the right way so she would understand why he loved her. Leo was never one for romantic gestures; hell, he wasn’t one for romantic feelings, period. But she had changed that. Olivia made him want to write her handwritten love letters. She made him want to buy her flowers, even though she threw the ones he gave her in the bin. She made him want to kiss every single inch of her body and worship her for the warrior queen that she was. He wanted to feel her fire.

‘The pilot is asking if you are ready to fly?’ the hostess asked, interrupting his thoughts. Leo cast one last look out of the window.

‘I’m ready, thank you.’

But he wouldn’t get to do those things for Olivia. Not anymore.

*****************************************************************

Camille found Drake sat at the kitchen table, cup of coffee beside him, reading a pregnancy book. She grinned when she saw that he was absorbed.

‘Hey you,’ she greeted him, pressing a kiss on the top of his head. He smiled up at her. ‘Hey gorgeous.’

She sat down opposite him. ‘I see you’re studying.’

‘Yeah, I figured I should know what’s going on with Lily, you know?’ He frowned and looked at her. ‘Do you know that she is probably upside down right now to prepare to exit the birth canal?’

Camille blinked. ‘Wh- what? Drake, did you just refer to my vagina as a birth canal?’

‘Well...’

‘Oh dear God. Okay, what else are you learning? Any other lovely terms to describe it?’

‘That’s the only one. Has the skin on your tummy been itching?’

‘Kinda.’

‘That’s normal,’ he told her. ‘Just rub oil on it or a moisturiser. You have a moisturiser for your tummy right?’

‘Yes, Drake, I do.’

‘Good good...’ He continued reading. Camille observed him then reached out to take his hand. He looked up at her and smiled bashfully.

Camille spoke. ‘I know I kind of freaked when you called my vagina a birth canal.. but I appreciate you reading up on this. I’ve been reading a few books and getting worried I’m not doing everything right. Like, is she okay in there? Cosy? Happy?’

Drake shut the book and focused his attention entirely on his wife. ‘Camille, you’re making a lovely home for her in there. I promise. I know we had problems a few months ago but that was down to stress. Since you’ve been here in Texas, you’ve been happy, right?’

She nodded. ‘Of course I have been!’

‘That’s all that matters. You’ve been happy, Lily’s been happy. I’ll be there for you the whole time. I’ll read so many baby books, I could walk into that hospital and deliver any baby myself.’

Camille giggled. Drake squeezed her hand. ‘You’re doing great.’

*************************************************

Olivia had had a fitful sleep and now it was 10am. Bleary eyed, she sat down, staring at the dressing table. The letter was calling out to her. She had been thinking about it all night. Did she really want to read Leo telling her how much he hated her now? Because that's what the letter must be about - how she turned him against her and he was leaving because he hated her.

She bit her fingernails, her eyes fixed on the dressing table drawer.

'Fuck it,' she finally said, bolting up to take the letter out. She opened the envelope savagely and steeled herself to read about how much of a bitch she was. She wouldn't blame him for being brutally honest. She began to read.

Hey trouble,

I'm not usually one for letter writing or grand gestures. But I decided to write you a letter because for some reason, you make me want to write letters to you. You actually make me want to do really romantic stuff but I've learned now that flowers don't heal stab wounds and should be avoided at all costs.

I know you told me that we have nothing. You made it clear that we will never have anything more than secret meetings in the dark. You want nothing to do with me now because you're scared I’ll hurt you.

You're an intelligent woman, Liv. I wouldn't trust me either. But I feel like I've changed. You helped me to change. When we had that first night together, you wanted me to help you forget my brother. Little did I know that you, Olivia Nevrakis, would help me forget all the women that came before you.

We’re the same and I think that’s why I was so drawn to you. We are both difficult to get to know, we hold people at arms length and we cause more pain than most. But getting to know you has been eye opening for me; you’re amazing. I see you for what you are, flaws and all, and I wouldn’t change you for the world. You challenge me, you call me out for my shit, and I do the same to you. Nobody else would dare do that to you; but you don’t scare me. You don’t intimidate me. I know it’s just a smoke screen; you actually have a heart of gold.

You said I would leave and break your heart. I’m sorry I’m leaving now and proving you right. But the one thing you are actually wrong about is the fact I will hurt you. Olivia, I swear, I know a good thing when I have it. You’re the first woman to make me feel something. You make me happy. I’d be a fool to break your heart which is why I would swear to keep it safe, if you gave me the privilege of looking after it.

But this is over now. I’m not going to force you into something you don’t want to do. I hope you remember how incredible you are, how strong, how powerful and how beautiful. I like to think I helped you see that you are all of those things and more.

At least we’ll always have rule six.

I love you, Olivia Nevrakis.

Leo x

Olivia’s eyes filled with tears when she closed the letter. Her chest began to constrict and her throat tightened; her breathing became more harsh. ‘Oh god.. oh god...’ she whispered, feeling panic rise. ‘What have I done?’

She sat up straight and clenched her fists. Her fingernails dug into her skin, drawing blood, but she didn’t care. She needed to feel something that wasn’t complete and utter regret.

She needed to talk to someone. Liam was a no go; he was still angry at her. Leo was in Cuba and talking to him now would be a mistake.

Wiping away tears, she grabbed her phone. She scrolled through her contacts until she found Camille.

***************************************************************************

Camille groaned when her phone woke her up. Rubbing her eyes, she checked the time. 3am. Who was calling at this hour? She reached out to answer the call but Drake pulled her back, nuzzling into her neck. ‘No.. comfy..’ he murmured sleepily.

Camille sighed. ‘Babe, it’s Olivia.’

‘She’s pocket dialling..’

‘Drake, let me up.’

‘Nooooo...’

Camille managed to unwind herself from Drake’s arm and answered the call. ‘Olivia?’

She could hear muffled crying. Camille sat up quickly, her heart starting to pound. ‘Olivia? Are you okay?’

‘Camille.. I fucked up..’ Olivia replied, her voice shaking. Camille clambered out of bed, ignoring Drake’s protests, and shrugged on her dressing gown. She padded downstairs, careful not to make any noise, and settled down on the sofa in the living room.

‘Olivia, talk to me.’

There was a sniffle. ‘I rejected Leo and now he’s gone. I fucked it up.’

‘Where has he gone?’ Camille asked, her voice soothing.

‘Cuba.’

‘What?! When?’

‘Yes-yesterday. He told me he was... he was..’

‘He was what?’

‘Falling in love with me,’ Olivia said quietly.

Camille swallowed. This was big but she knew not to make a big deal out of it. That would only scare Olivia away. ‘Okay.. You said you rejected him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why honey?’

‘Because I’m a fucking idiot.’

Camille heard Olivia sniff again and when she spoke, her voice cracked. ‘He wrote me a letter and it’s the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me.’

‘Do you mind if I ask what the letter said?’

To Camille’s surprise, Olivia didn’t tell her to mind her own business. Instead, she read out the letter. Camille felt tears spring up in her eyes when Olivia finished.

‘Liv.. that was lovely.’

‘I know right?! What the hell?’ Olivia’s voice rose with a tinge of hysteria. ‘Why didn’t he tell me this way before instead of acting like a complete and utter douchebag?! He always acts like he has no feelings, it’s so frustrating!’

‘Because he has walls,’ Camille said. ‘Oh God, Liv, what are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know. Help me.’

Camille thought. ‘Okay, does he make you happy?’

‘Ugh, Camille..’ Olivia groaned.

‘Liv, it’s 3am here. You called me for a deep girly chat and damn it, that’s what you’re getting,’ Camille replied bluntly. ‘Just go with it. Does Leo make you happy?’

‘I think... I think so.. like what defines happy?’

‘I don’t know.. like butterflies? When you think of him do you smile?’

‘I ignore all feelings like that. Butterflies are pathetic.’

‘Oh Jesus, fine. Does he give you the same feeling as when you buy a new dagger?’

Olivia went silent until she spoke 10 seconds later. ‘Oh fuck.’

Camille grinned. ‘I knew it. Okay, do you see yourself being with him?’

‘What’s the point? He’s in Cuba now,’ Olivia said wearily. ‘It’s done.’

‘Olivia, answer the question. Do you see yourself being with him?’

Olivia groaned. ‘Don’t make me say it..’

‘Olivia..’ Camille replied, her voice carrying a warning.

‘Ugh fine. Yes. I don’t know how it would work, he will realise how unsuited we are and it will end-’

‘He could realise that yes, or it could be the best thing to ever happen to you,’ Camille interrupted. ‘Love is risky, Liv. You put your feelings on the line and sure, you could get your heart broken. But it can also be the loveliest thing ever. Sharing a life with someone. Having fun. Inside jokes. You are a team. Don’t throw away something that could be amazing because you’re scared. You are a Nevrakis. You don’t get scared, you take everything life throws at you and you deal with it. Don’t give up on Leo before he’s even proven himself to you. If you let him go now, you will forever wonder what could have been.’

Olivia was silent again. Camille held her breath.

‘Thanks, Camille,’ Olivia said softly. ‘I needed that.’

Camille smiled. ‘You go get him, girl.’

#drake walker #olivia nevrakis #the royal romance #trr fanfic

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cryptozoologygirls · 5 years

Text

Welp- here's a story that I don't tell a lot- but I still remember it very clearly....

I saw you guys asked for some submissions and I've thoroughly enjoyed your content so I thought I'd share something that happened to me when I was a teenager.

I don't know if it qualifies as a cryptoid but- I thought you'd enjoy it.

It is the reason I stopped sleeping normally:

___________________________________

You probably won't believe me. I don't blame anyone for not being able to. This type of thing isn't uncommon to hear but at the same time it's not something that's believable to most people. Sometimes I wonder if it was real myself. I want so hard to believe I was just tired or hallucinating- but I know what I saw and felt and what happened.

It was so clear and burned into my brain that to deny it is even more unbelievable than the truth.

Let me explain something about myself first and foremost; I do NOT believe in ghosts or the dead coming back to raise any kinds of hell (so to speak).

But I do believe in spiritual entities. I've had had some inexplicable things happen to me before- but nothing very unique to most "haunting" stories or something that someone [or even I] couldn't write off as a just a coincidence.

But this- this was different.

When I was in high school I got my own room for the first time and boy did I love it. I loved having my own space, kicking others out, and above all- being able to sleep alone and how I wanted.

For those who are younger siblings out there and also had to share rooms with the older ones, you probably know when it comes to things like sleeping arrangements; your older sibling has the final say in when it's lights out, if you sleep with a light or the tv on, or whatever.

My older sister had a nasty habit of putting in a DVD before bed and falling asleep, leaving me awake to hear her horrible taste in movies the whole night and suffer from the bright light of our tv. And every time I'd try to turn it off she'd yell at me or put it back on herself.

When I finally got my own room I decided that I would sleep in total silence and pitch black darkness. And I did happily for years.

When I got my first laptop I still kept the tradition and closed my laptop every time i was ready for bed so I could sleep in the dark and silence. However, my laptop charger gave off a faint blue light that could actually be enough see a little if your eyes adjust to the dark, but that's it.

Let me explain something else about myself: I used to frequently get pretty severe sleep paralysis. For those that don't know, sleep paralysis is when your body is asleep in all senses of the word, but your mind is more awake. You tend to feel warm and tingly and see and feel weird things. I usually felt warm, was very paralyzed, and felt the illusion that i was floating a bit above my bed even while stiff as a board. I also got me some pretty creepy hallucinations; one time I saw a man hanging upside down on my wall with blood smeared all around in some type of pentagram. But I've never been too freaked out by this. I'd do my best to scream or make a noise and that releases my paralysis and made the images disappear, then I'd just go back to sleep. I knew these images were just disturbing figments of my imagination and ,while creepy to look at, couldn't hurt me even if it tried.

I bring this up because I'm letting you know I did and still do suffer from it- though not as frequently now with my new sleep medication. But back then I had experiences at least once a week. I know what it feels like.

And this was NOT a sleep paralysis episode.

So one night I went to bed like I normally did, laptop closed and the light off, and was sleeping- what I dreaming about I can't even remember, but then I suddenly just was awake. It was strange too, waking up the way I did. Normally I wake up feeling myself slowly come out of my sleepy state. I was a pretty groggy person when I would wake up. This time it felt like someone had reached in me and pulled me up to consciousness. I was very wide awake. I lifted my head and looked around, my room lit up softly by my charger's blue light. It was quiet and dark so I assumed it was still the middle of the night or very early in the morning. I laid back down to go back to sleep when it happened.

It happened about eight years ago years ago- so I can't remember in exact detail when the thing first appeared. Though I don't think even right after the incident I could recall when or where it came from. It wasn't there one moment and the next it was.

But everything else I can remember like it happened just yesterday.

What I remember most of all was being the most terrified I've ever been then or since.

Above my head---something had appeared and descended down on me-

It was so very strange- it wasn't solid nor see through. It was there and it was not. It was like it was fading in and out of our reality from another one entirely. It was huge and black and gray. I wish I could describe it better- but it wasn't like anything I've ever seen before. It had a giant mouth opened like it was screaming at me or like it wanted nothing more than to take a big bite out of me or that it's teeth and jaws were too massive to close. It's monstrous demonic like face had another skeletal face within it. It clawed at the air around me, as if it wanted to shred me to bits with its giant skeleton like talons- but it just couldn't touch me for some reason. So it started slamming its hands on my bed. I remember getting tossed up and down and my bed springs squeaking from the abuse. My head snapping up and down as the motions rocked me. My neck was sore the next day.

And the whole time I couldn't tear my eyes from the dark void of black where it's eyes should be. There was nothing there, but I never felt anything stare at me more harder, more predatory, and more furious.

I felt it wanted to hurt me, but it just couldn't actually touch me. It just hovered above me with its mouth open and slamming its giant hands on the bed by my sides.

I should mention that from the very start, I was screaming. Loud and terrified. Since I'm the quietest in the family, when I shout, my family knows something's wrong. I could hear them at my door screaming my name and trying to get in my room to me.

I still don't know how I did this, but I pushed myself backward under the creature and off my bouncing bed, and stumbled to the door where I flicked the light switch on, flew the door open and jumped into my grandmother's arm, sobbing like a baby and barely able to speak. All I could do was point behind me and say,

"It's there."

She held me and pulled me to the living room to wrap me in a blanket and got me something warm to drink. I woke up the whole house. My parents told me they would call my other grandparents and pray over my room, which I refused to go near.

I called my best friend to hear his voice, so maybe he could calm me down since I was still trembling. After all I knew he'd be awake at 3, almost four in the morning since he barely slept at all. I must have still sounded terrified because as soon as I started talking to him,he offered to him to come over and did despite my initial refusal to his offer.

My grandparents and practically everyone I knew said prayers over my room and me and pretty much put the subject to rest.

And though it took me a while to feel safe in my own room I eventually moved back in and was there for a few more years (though now I started to share it with my younger sibling).

I don't like remembering what happened, I actually get a headache remembering the whole thing.

And to be honest- I've never been the same since. I've developed insomnia and take medication to put me to sleep at night. Although I no longer sleep with the lights on (which took a few years) , I still sleep with a small light, bight enough to keep most of the darkness at bay with white noise so I'm not in silence.

As I finish this story, I know it sounds crazy. I practically feel crazy retelling it. But the memory is still solid. I remember everything that happened down to what I felt and what was going through my head at the time. It couldn't have been a dream or sleep paralysis or a hallucination. I can't move at all when I would have my sleep paralysis. Making noise always breaks the hallucinations, and they have never been able to move before.

So It wasn't a dream.

And It wasn't sleep paralysis.

I have yet to find any kind of rational or logical explanation.

I might be able to lie to myself and accept it as maybe some kind of extremely strong and realistic vision or something if it were not for these key things: My bed, my solid you-have-to-really-push-to-move-it-from-being-wedged-between-my-shelf-and-drawers bed, was moved as if someone had been pushing on it just like that thing had.

And my door- I normally lock my door when I sleep because I can't stand being woken up. I can't remember whether I did or not that night. Considering my habits, I should've had it locked.

But I do remember this: my door knob is the kind that stops the outside knob from moving, but the inside is free to do so, making very easy to lock yourself out.

My grandmother closed the door behind me when she ushered me to the living room because the mere sight of my room was frightening me.

When she went to fetch a sweater and bra for me to wear when my best friend was coming, she didn't have any trouble getting in my room.

So why couldn't my family get to me?

_____________

So that's the skinny of it. Not sure if it qualifies for a crytpoid. It's a lengthy story so you may not want to post it to your site and that's fine. Hope you enjoyed it.

____

Holy shit, thank you for the submission, @reo-c-pelluna !! If it’s any consolation, I believe you. After seeing a UFO and some ghosts, I have no reason not to believe stuff like this anymore, and my god, how terrifying.

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snake-noodles · 5 years

Text

Flowers of Flesh and Blood

Characters - Deceit, Virgil, Roman, Logan, Patton Pairings - Loceit, but it’s kinda not really healthy

Word count - 8880 Warnings - Unhealthy relationships, stalker-like behaviors, yandere logan, Deceit i guess but hes chill, non consensual touching/kissing, cursing, violence, descriptions of wounds, gore, touch starvation, touch deprivation, kidnapping, minor nsfw- but nothing really sexual happens, major character death, lacerations. Please ask to tag if I forgot anything.

AU - Inventor Au, made by @whos-she-never-heard-of-her !

Notes - Deceit’s name will be Ethan.

I absolutely loved the AU idea- and I got so many writing ideas for this. It turned out kind of long, but I do hope its ok! I just.... love the concept so much?? 10/10 onto the story

This took MONTHS to complete and I know it got kind of long but i jsut?? My motivation was turning on and off like a lightswitch so im sorry it's so delayed and out of nowhere kfbdnfndnf

---

A STEM assistant, huh? The vitiligo boy stood there, staring at the ad printed. He had just gotten out of college, and he considered himself to be somewhat skilled. He was also in need of a job for the summer. He blinks. This would be a gold mine, huh? He looks though the other jobs- just in case there could be anything else to look over. Maid service, janitor needed, dog keeper. Low pay for all of them, too.

It seems this would be his best bet, though he wasn’t sure how well he could keep up. If this job fails, he could always be a maid, he snickers at his own joke, shaking his head. He’d rather die.

But, in actuality, he was quite excited for this job opening, though he wasn’t sure if he’d be accepted for some… specific reasons. Most people we him as a discolored freak, but this is an inside job, right? He huffs, finally deciding and dialing the number set on the ad.

He wasn’t sure when he was supposed to get a call back, or if he’d ever even get one- but he almost forgot about it until he heard his phone ringing. He quirks an eyebrow, taking a swig from the tea he had just made and swipes up his phone to see who had called.

He blinks, suddenly remembering, and he nearly spits out his tea. Why is he nervous? Oh jeez, this could go in so many different ways.

But, he steadies his breathing, and answers the call.

"Hello?" He answers in the most formal way he can muster. The other line is quiet for a moment, and he nearly hangs up, thinking he had gotten the wrong number, before he hears the voice speak.

"Yes, hello, sir." He states, his voice crisp and clear, even though the slight static of the phone. It sent a chill down the boy’s spine, but he stays silent, waiting for what the other has to say.

"Let's see… Ethan Greene, yes?"

"That’s me." He resists the urge to lie, that might make this a million times worse.

"I’m calling to let you know that you will be my assistant starting tomorrow at 7 am If you do not make it on time, you will be fired. Good day, and I suppose I look forward to working with you." And then the phone clicked, signaling that the inventor had hung up.

His brain was still trying to process what the hell was just said to him. Well, he got the job but holy Shit with a capital ‘s', this dude was hella strict. 7 am? And he’ll get fired without question if he’s late? Holy fuck.

He stood in his kitchen for an awkwardly long amount of time. He should set an alarm. Maybe.... 6 am.

How the hell did he sleep past his alarm. It was already 6:30, and he was awoken by his neighbor mowing. At first, he was annoyed for being woken up so early. Then he remembered.

"How the hell did I sleep past my alarm?!" He shouts, jumping out of his bed and already getting dressed.

He’s usually a perfectionist, but he doesn’t really have the time to straighten every single strand of his hair or take a shower.

In the end, he just ended up wearing a button up shirt and some worn jeans cause he had no idea what the dress code was for this fucking job.

He nearly cringed at himself looking in the mirror. Jesus, he looks like a curly haired mess. What if he just… Adds a necktie. Then he’ll be 20% more serious looking.

Looking over at the clock, he yelps, and rushes out the door after he makes sure he has everything. He’s only got 15 minutes. But thank whatever god is out there for speeding.

But, he arrives at the address given to him, and he pauses, checking to make sure it’s the right place. Once he confirms with himself, he walks up and knocks on the hard oak door.

He felt somewhat nervous standing here, but he tried not to let it show as he waits at the door.

Logan was already awake at 5 am, busy with upgrading his AIs, and making sure it was all perfect.

To be honest, he wasn’t too excited to have a partner, but he did need the extra hands now that he’s working on Virgil. Oh well, hopefully they won’t get in the way. Not that he really even cares- he could just fire them. In fact, working with another person in these conditions could be dreadful. He doesn’t usually depend on others, and now that he’s meeting someone for the first time in ages, he isn’t exactly sure what to expect.

But, he hears a firm knock on his door, and he glances over at the wall clock, humming in amusement. 2 minutes early, hm? He was almost positive they wouldn’t make it. He hums, standing up from his desk and making his way to the front door. He waits for a second, thinking of what he should say before opening the door slowly.

“Ethan, yes?” He greets, staring down at the shorter male.

On the other hand, Ethan was trying not to panic over how tall this guy was. Holy shit. He knows that he’s already kind of short, but damn this guy is a giraffe.

He was tall, and slim with an extremely pale complexion. He must not go outside too often. His eyes are dark, and slightly sunken in, and glasses rest on the bridge of his nose. He wore a lab coat too, that gave away that he’s Serious about this job. Ethan gulps nervously.

“Yeah, that’s me, I’m here for the job.” He explains, and Logan stares adjusting his glasses. It was a bit uncomfortable, and he didn’t know how he should feel, but after a few seconds, he stands aside, letting the vitiligo boy through.

Walking in he blinks. This place is… dark. And dusty. He looks around, before looking over at the scientist.

“So what is it that you need me to do, mister… uh…” He pauses, realizing that he doesn’t know this guys name. A+ socializing skills. “Logan. Logan Sanders. All I need you to do is clean up my workspace and make sure my creations are in proper working condition. If not, perform the required maintenance on them.” He hums. “There’s other things that I will require your help with, but we can wait for those. As of now, please perform your duties I have written out for you while I work on my latest project. And, do not interrupt my work.” He states, handing the other some papers. Ethan blinks, nodding slowly. When he signed up for this job, he didn’t think he’d have to be doing chores for this guy.

But, it was a good pay, and it wasn’t the most difficult of work, so he couldn’t really complain. Before he could ask any questions, Logan disappeared into his work space. Letting out a sigh, he gets to work.

Sort things out, keep things clean, blah blah blah. He didn’t really care all that much, but, he was intrigued in whatever these “creations” were.

The paper said they’d be in his work space, he just has to make sure he doesn’t bother Logan. He lets out a sigh, rolling up his sleeves. He had a feeling that it’d be a long day.

Logan sat in his office, adjusting his glasses as he took notes on Virgil’s current behavior. He was still a work in progress, so he was nothing but an endoskeleton. His programming was a bit messy, so that’d have to be fixed. He taps his pen to his lip, thinking as he watches the robot. It didn’t have any free will yet, so it just moved in patterns that he had programmed. This one might take longer than the others.

He picks up his tools, but is quickly interrupted when the door opens, and Ethan walks in. Well, he half stepped in, and then started staring at his creations, a look of shock and awe on his face.

Logan stares at the boy, saying nothing. It’s been a long while since he’s been with another human. It was quite strange. Seeing the rising and falling of the chest, the natural hair, the emotion in the eyes. It was hard to capture such a thing in his creations. They may look realistic, but they’re still metal. Perhaps one day he could create a perfect copy of a human. Though, it would take a very long time.

But, he couldn’t help but stare at the other as he checked up on the creations. He was quite different from most people he’s seen. His skin was quite beautiful, he wonders what caused such a discoloration. Logan hums, tilting his head slightly. Intriguing. Perhaps he could write some notes.

He turns back to Virgil, scribbling down some quick notes on a stray piece of paper while Ethan was still trying to figure out how the hell he was supposed to open up this thing.

He huffs, blowing some hair out of his face as he pokes and prods at the human-like robot. The robot was… tall, though a tad bit shorter than Logan. It also looked like a suburban white christian dad, but who was he to judge. He just hoped these things weren’t sex bots. That’d be kinda gross.

But after 10 minutes of attempting to figure this robot out, he looks over at Logan. He thinks a bit, before tapping his shoulder from behind.

"I totally understand what I’m doing right now. And I totally don't need help." He huffs, before quirking an eyebrow, noticing how Logan had gone stiff.

Logan blinks as he feels something tap his shoulder. His robots should be off, how come-. Then he heard Ethan’s voice, remembering that he’s there. He didn’t really know how to feel- being touched by another human… It made him feel strange, and conflicted. The only other contact he’s had is from artificial skin. It takes him a moment to process, but he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and turns his head to Ethan.

"If you do not need my help, why bother me?" He asks, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. The other stares, confused for a second.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I forgot to tell you." He laughs a bit. "I’m a bit of a compulsive liar. It just kinda… slips out, y'know? But, anyway, I dunno what you want me to do. You want me to check the robot’s insides, right? I’m a bit confused on how to open him… her… it.”

Logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He really had to hire someone like this? A liar, of all people? Well, at least he wasn’t lying about his degree, so he knows what he’s doing. No one else accepted the offer, either.

But, he stands slowly, walking over to Patton, and opening up his stomach effortlessly, Ethan watching close behind.

"See this box here? Be careful with it, you could get shocked if you touch it the wrong way. All I need you to do is to make sure everything is in the right place." He says this, and without another word, goes back to his desk.

He hums, looking at his paper before pushing his hair out of his face and checking over the robot. It was.. Extremely detailed, and he was honestly super impressed. It was so realistic, and extremely advanced from what he can see. He wonders what it’d be like if it were on. Hopefully it wouldn’t kill him, that’d be a little disappointing.

But, he leans in carefully, checking between the paper and the insides of the robot. He wasn’t used to working with something so advanced. Of course, he could handle it, but it might take him longer than it usually does. He hopes Logan doesn’t mind that, he seems kind of… strange, to put it in the nicest way possible.

Thought he can’t help but wonder if this guy is even trustworthy. He’s some creepy giant who stays in this dark house with hyper realistic robots. It was a little weird the more he thought about it. I mean, he seemed… Okay? He hasn’t really hurt him, and did help him, but he couldn’t be certain just yet.

But, on another note, he finishes up with the two robots he was told to check up on. In all honesty, he was a bit exhausted. He never really got up early, and he wasn’t the most active person in the world. Hopefully that wouldn’t bother Logan- despite all of the red flags, he does need the money to, y’know, actually survive for the summer.

But since he was finished, he comes up behind Logan, watching him work.

“What’re you working on, Logan?” He asks, looking the endoskeleton up and down. Logan pauses, leaning forward to avoid the physical contact that would inevitably happen. He wasn’t used to it, but he knows he’ll have to. He sighs quietly, pausing his writing.

“What does it look like I’m doing? You should get back to work.” He huffs, narrowing his eyes at Ethan.

“Oh, I’m totally not done, Doc.” He says in a sarcastic tone, rolling his eyes. “So, like, is there anything else you need me to do or can I leave?”

Logan pauses, thinking if there’s anything else the boy could do for him.

"Not that I can think of… But don’t think your job will always be this easy, you’ll have more tasks tomorrow." He states this, closing his eyes.

"Oh joy, I absolutely cannot wait to work for you." He mutters, rolling his eyes.

"You could always quit if you don’t want to work for me." Logan looks over, the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. Ethan couldn’t tell if he liked this slick bastard or not.

"Ugh, you’re annoying." He growls. "Fine, I’ll keep working. I need the money anyway… Speaking of, when do I get paid?"

"End of the week. Hopefully you’ll last long enough to get your pay." He hums, clicking his pen.

Ethan stares. That statement could mean so many different things and all of them sound bad. He liked this guy. Hopefully he doesn’t die on the job, though. That’d be inconvenient.

Logan, on the other hand, can’t help but stare as the other leaves. He doesn’t exactly know how he should feel, but his hand goes to his shoulder, and he tries to imitate the small amount of warmth he felt when Ethan had touched him, but it didn’t work. It didn’t have the same… spark to it.

Maybe tomorrow he’d get another chance. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to feel that warmth again. Oh well, those urges would probably leave after he got whatever it was he desired.

But of course, that didn’t happen.

★☆★

The next morning, Ethan found himself waking up early. Maybe too early. At least he has time to look somewhat decent, last time he was in a hurry. But it was 5 am, and he sat in his kitchen, drinking warm coffee. He didn’t usually drink this stuff, but he wanted to not act like a corpse today.

He just hoped today wouldn’t be as long. That probably wouldn’t be the case, but god he wishes it was.

"Ugh." He lets out a groan, eyeing the clock with an annoyed gaze. He’s just gotten out of college and adult life is already so god damn tiring.

He slaps his cheeks, trying to wake himself up, and he goes to his room to get dressed.

The sun was… Extremely bright this morning, and stung his already tired eyes. It just made him dread the day even more as he changed into his yellow dress shirt.

He thought of wearing his jacket too, and even though it’d look good, he’d be a puddle the second he walked out of the door. He instead wore a black vest. Still stylish, so suave. A real lady killer.

Haha.

He would never touch a lady in his life.

He walks out the door around 6:30, adjusting his hat to block the sun out of his eyes. It was a beautiful day, despite the boy’s annoyance. The birds were singing, and the flowers were vibrant, too.

He made a mental note to himself to get some flowers for his house later.

But, he arrives at the somewhat menacing house, only ten minutes early.

He gives the old door a knock, tapping his foot as he waited for an answer. But, the one who answered the door wasn’t Logan.

"Oh, good morning, sir!" The robot greets, a friendly smile on its face. The robot was the same one from yesterday- the one that kind of looked like a dad.

"Morning… Is Logan here?"

"Master Logan is currently buying more supplies. He should be home shortly. He has left me and Roman in charge!"

The voice was cheerful and warm, but had a robotic undertone. It was actually quite calming, though creepy knowing it’s coming from something that isn’t human.

They were so realistic… The man had serious talent, and he didn’t know if he should be amazed or concerned.

"So who’re you then?" He finally asks.

"Oh! I totally forgot! I’m Patton, it’s a pleasure meeting you, mister Ethan!" He holds his hand out for a shake, in which Ethan reluctantly takes.

"So he’s out? Is there anything I should do, or should I wait for him to return?"

“You should be fine to wait, sir! He will only take a few minutes, after all.” The robot smiles in a way that made Ethan feel somewhat nervous. Jesus, how life-like can these things get? It felt as if he was talking to another person. The thought sent a chill down his spine.

Patton moves out of the way, allowing the boy entry. He walks in, putting down his bag and sitting down on the surprisingly comfortable couch.

The whole place- despite being dusty and dark- was quite nice. It was quite comfortable compared to where he was staying. He wondered how rich this Logan guy was. The place was quite big, and he had access to equipment and parts that could create extremely realistic humanoids. Did he have a job? Did he work at home? Sell his creations? Is he a criminal?!

He rolls his eyes at his own thought. How stupid- he may be a bit weird, but he doesn't seem like he'd hurt anyone. He looked quite… frail, too. Though, his skinny structure sort of added to his creepiness. Tall, pale, dark haired… Like a guy you'd see in a Tim Burton movie.

His thoughts were cut off as the front door slowly opens with a long creak. Logan walks in, not even sparing a glance to Ethan as he immediately goes into his office, holding various different things. It was surprising he could even hold all of that due to how skinny he was.

He simply blinks, raising an eyebrow. Did he not even notice that he was here? He sighs, his shoulders slumping. He doesn't get this guy at all…

Standing up slowly, he stretches his arms out and walks over to the office, giving a knock on the door.

“Hey, Lo, I'm here.” He announces, a hint of annoyance in his voice as he crosses his arms and waits outside the office.

Logan's mind was a bit more active than it usually was today. He was having a bit of trouble due to this, and was trying to do too much at once. He blinks, hearing a knock at his door. Pausing, he racks his brain for what he was supposed to make his assistant do today.

Oh, yes, he should probably let him in first. He sighs, adjusting his glasses and opening the door slowly, allowing the other boy entrance.

“Took you long enough..” He hears the other boy mumble, but he says nothing, instead staring.

What was this sudden rush he was feeling? He was already feeling out of it, but now that Ethan was here, he felt… strange. Lightheaded, almost. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. It felt as if he was a robot losing power… This was nothing new.

So instead of fighting it, he lets his legs give out and he falls to the floor with a thud, falling asleep rather quickly, leaving Ethan to quickly rush to his side.

★☆★

When he woke up again, he felt hands on him. That part was normal. But, something felt strange… His eyes flutter open slowly. He looks over, seeing a pair of hands. Roman? No, Roman is more tan than dark.

…

Oh, yeah.

“So you're finally awake, asshat?” A voice huffs. He blinks slowly, sitting up as he feels the comforting warmth quickly leave him.

“... My apologies. That was unprofessional of me.” He mumbles, adjusting his tie.

“Patton explained it to me. So this is a normal thing or whatever?”

“I suppose you could say that.”

The two sit in a silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't very nice either. Logan stands up slowly, his hand instinctively going to his arm- where he had been touched. He really didn't understand, but his heart… His heart was pounding like a drum. What is wrong with him? Perhaps he could ask Roman or Patton later- he has no time for an actual doctor or therapist.

“So…” Ethan speaks up, thinking of what he should say. “Do you need me to leave? If you're not feeling good, I wouldn't want to bother you.”

Despite being a bit worried for the man, he was also desperately wanting to go home.

“... It's fine, just get to work.”

He figured that he'd get that answer. He sighs, standing slowly.

“Alright, okay. What’s today's work?”

Logan goes quiet, thinking. Ah, yes, he prepared another paper. He turns to his desk.

“Here…” He mumbles, grabbing some papers and handing them to the smaller boy, which he takes quietly, reading over the instructions.

“Yeah I think I got it. But, uh, what's this mean?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and pointing to ‘If Virgil is left unattended, do not bother him’. Sounds kind of dangerous.

"Exactly what it says. Do not touch him, he's dangerous as he is still just an endoskeleton.” He explains, turning away and sitting at a desk.

Ethan stares at the paper, and then to the endoskeleton in the corner of the room, having only half of a face and wires sticking out of it's back. It was quite scary to look at without context. Well, even context it was scary. He still wonders what Logan is trying to achieve with these robots.

He tries to shake the thought from his head, and he goes to his tasks.

Work went normally, for the most part. There were small occurrences, but nothing that signaled any red flags. Just normal. Ethan originally thought he'd hate the guy, but to his surprise, Logan was very nice despite his cold appearance. It's been maybe a month and he enjoys being with the other. They don't talk much, but it's fine. He doesn't like wasting his breath on small talk anyway.

Logan, on the other hand, was conflicted about his feelings. It's been a month and 3 days. He was acutely aware of that. He still had the urge to feel that warmth. As much as he tried to hold those urges down, he couldn't exactly control them. Even if it was simply brushing against each other, it made him go mad. But, not in a bad way. Everything would feel… tingly, and his heart would pound against his chest. He's never felt such feelings before.

He often finds himself thinking about Ethan. But, he never stops it. People normally do this, right? There's no reason to be concerned. He just wants to feel his skin. His hair looks soft too… his eyes so wet… He just wants to look at him.

He puts his hand to his heart, trying to calm his emotions as he stands in his office, his breathing shaky and his face tinted red. He grabs onto his desk for support as he lets out airy laughs.

He stood there alone with himself as his head ran wild. These feelings make no sense, but he loves it. He wonders if he could always feel like this… He's not certain, but if there was a way, he'd stick to it all of the time.

Maybe Ethan is just what he needs.

They're friends, right? Maybe he could try and get closer without warrenting any suspicion. He bites his lip, staring down at the papers on his desk. He couldn't help but think of the other.

He had never really had any family or friends to talk to. Is this what it's like? This rush of blood? The pounding of the heart? Stumbling, he slowly lowers himself into his seat, picking up his pen.

But going by those means, that would mean that Ethan is his first friend. He laughs a little, biting at the inside of his mouth. Apparently if friends get close enough, they can have a courtship.

A courtship? Why is he thinking of such unnecessary things? Though, the thought of hand holding and… hugs do sound quite lovely. But does he really feel that way? They’ve only known each other for a month and three days, after all! It's as if his mind is working against him to confuse his emotions. He shakes his head, scribbling on a blank sheet of picture.

Surely not. He’s just confused. Caught up in emotions of friendship.

It will go away soon enough, he's sure of it.

★☆★

The sun rises and Ethan's alarm sounds, waking him up with a groan. His back was sore from yesterday’s work. He hoped today wouldn't be as draining. He stretches out, and after getting ready, leaves his place.

And he once again found himself in front of the menacing house. Despite considering Logan a friend, he really wishes he had more breaks. But, he couldn't exactly complain. The pay was good and the work wasn't killing him. He sighs, wondering if he should turn and leave. But, no, that'd be shitty.

He shakes his head, deciding to commit as he knocks on the door. Once again, the door wasn’t opened by Logan. Though, that was normal for him at this point.

“Ah, good day dear Greene! How may I help you on this fine morning?” The robot greets, a dazzling smile on it's face. Ethan laughs nervously.

“Nothing, Roman, I'm just here for the usual.” He shrugs. “Can I come in?”

“Why, of course!”

Saying that, he moves out of the way and Ethan lets himself in quietly.

“Ah, Ethan! Master Logan instructed me to tell you to get to work right away!” Patton calls as he pokes his head into the room.

“Right. Will do.” He mumbles, setting his things down and walking into the office.

In there, his eyes landed on Virgil, the endoskeleton. But instead he was on the desk instead of at his usual corner. That didn't exactly sit right with him. He was told not to touch Virgil, but… He was a professional too, damn it. He can handle a work in progress.

Sighing, he walks up to the endoskeleton, looking for a way to switch it off. But, as soon as he touched the creation, he felt a stinging pain on his cheek and his eyes widen. The robot had sliced him. Probably with a loose piece of metal. He puts a hand to his cheek, flinching when he feels his own blood. He looks to the robot who was now sitting still. He wondered what had triggered such a reaction. He sighs, only to wince in pain. He should find something to stop the bleeding.

But at that moment, the door opens, and Logan stands there with an unreadable expression. It doesn't take him long to turn Virgil off and grab a small white box off of his bookshelf.

"What the hell were you thinking?” Logan scolds, rummaging through the kit.

"Hey, I'm not a kid, I can handle a robot. He wasn't in his usual spot so I was trying to help.” He hisses, shifting his eyes away, hand still on his cheek.

Logan says nothing, reaching his arm out, hesitating for a second, before grabbing Ethan's arm. It wasn't intended, but he pulled him a little harder than he meant to, making the other flinch.

But he follows the other's movements and sits down. Logan stares at him, realizing how close he is to the other.

No, now's not the time. He shakes his head, wiping up the blood. But despite this, he still adored the warmth. His skin was so soft. He just… wanted to keep touching it.

Even his blood was mesmerizing. That beautiful red against his dark skin. How beautiful.

He notices the other flinch, and he holds down the urge to smile. Sensitive, is he?

He wonders what the boy would look like covered in bruises.

It took awhile, but Logan finishes up, placing the bandaid carefully over the thin cut. It still stung, and he couldn't really smile or talk without feeling a stinging pain from it.

“Thanksssss…” He slurs that out, hissing out in pain once again. He rubs his cheek carefully, eyeing Logan.

He sure did take his time on that injury. It was a little awkward for him. It shouldn't have been that bad of a cut, right? A bit of suspicion rises in him, but he doesn't question it. What else could he have been doing anyway? He has no reason to feel this way.

He shakes his head. Whatever.

The day continued as normal after that point, but thoughts ate away at the back of Logan's mind. How dare his own creation hurt Ethan?! He didn't create Virgil for him to attack others. And Ethan, of all people.

He'll have to teach him a lesson after the other leaves.

“I'm off.” Ethan states, stretching his arms out above his head. He pauses for a second, as if wanting to say something, but stays quiet. He has an off day tomorrow, he doesn’t need to concern himself.

“Ah, I didn't notice you were finished.” Logan stares at him, a few conflicting thoughts in his heads. “I hope your injury heals up. I do apologize.”

“Eh…” He shrugs, looking away. “Yeah the injury was so fatal, I think I'm gonna die, doc.”

He gives a crooked smirk, before turning. “Anyway, see ya, Lo.” He gives a wave and leaves the building.

The house goes into silence the minute the door closes. Roman and Patton look at each other before looking back at Logan, who was already making his way to the office.

He knew the others were following him, but he didn't care.

He enters his office, going over to the endoskeleton and grabbing it with a concerning amount of force.

“Master Logan, what on Earth are you doing?!” Patton exclaims.

“What does it look like? I'm resetting his system. For an intelligent AI, I'd assume you'd at least know what the hell I'm doing.” He glares, before turning back to Virgil.

“I know he hurt Ethan, but you have no right to be doing this. He isn't even finished-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Logan slams his fist onto the desk, a glass knocking over and shattering on the cold ground.

“You have no right to tell me what to do. Do you want me to reset you, too?!” He shouts, snapping towards the two bots.

“Sir-!”

“No, shut up!” He growls, “I'm the only one who's allowed to hurt Ethan, got it?! Only I can touch him like that!”

The room goes silent after he says this, his breathing heavy and his eyebrows knitted.

“Patton, clean the glass up.” He orders, seemingly going back to normal as he turns to the endoskeleton. Patton silently nods, gathering up the broken glass.

No words were spoken for the rest of the night- and Virgil was temporarily turned off.

Logan was in his room, pacing. His hands go to his pockets, where he feels something inside. He blinks, coming to a stop as he pulls the paper out. Paper? Ah, there's blood on it.

He then remembers what had happened and he gets a rush of different emotions. Anger was one of them, but there was another he couldn't quite name.

The blood was dry now of course. But it was still so pretty. He traces his finger over the spots and streaks. Such a strange, yet fascinating feeling. He felt his heart starting to race.

His blood was so pretty. His insides must be just as beautiful. His skin is also so pretty. He just wants to touch him.

A few strangled laughs escape him as he hugs himself tightly. Ah, he shouldn't be thinking such things. But he couldn’t help but gush over how perfect his friend was. It's called a crush right?

Such a silly thing to say. His feelings were so complex, yet they felt so right. So good. Is this how everyone else feels?

Do they just want to open up their crush?

That must be it.

Logan smiles, still tightly clutching onto the bloodstained paper. He needs to explore these feelings more. The next time he sees Ethan, perhaps he'll test them out.

Though, perhaps he should be discrete. He wouldn't want to show his feelings and surprise the other. That could scare him away! No, he'll take it slowly if he needs to.

There's only one thing that could possibly go wrong.

★☆★

Ethan was able to sleep in today, which he was happy with. Work was getting tiring, and after the event that had happened yesterday, he didn't really feel like working and destroying his arms and back. God, he sounds old.

He sighs, taking a long sip of his tea, his leg idly bouncing and his eyes tired. He realizes that he needs to go out today, but it didn't really sound the most ideal to him.

Get food, and other necessities to survive this test called life. He throws his head back, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe he'd stop by the park. He still wanted to get some flowers, too.

A punk asshole liking flowers. How ironic. But he liked them. Maybe he could take care of some succulents. Easy and pretty.

“God that sounds so gay.” He mumbles to himself, taking a sip of tea.

Deciding on that, he hums, getting ready for the day.

He didn't exactly focus on looking good, he was only gonna be out for an hour or two, but hey he might as well try and look nice.

Adjusting his hat, he leaves his house, the sun shining down on him. It was a nice day, and the weather was warm, yet he couldn't get this strange feeling out of his chest the second he stepped out the door.

It's just anxiety, right? He's got nothing to be worried about. He takes in a deep breath, trying to push that feeling back as he walks.

It didn't take him long to get everything he needed. He still had money left over for those flowers, too. He hums to himself, checking to make sure he got everything he needed, nodding to himself.

“Should be good…” He mumbles, walking forward, only to bump into someone.

He hisses, grumbling slightly, and regains his balance. He was ready to just walk away before he sees who exactly he ran into.

“What a coincidence.” Logan hums, staring down at the liar. “I didn't expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same for you, Lo, I thought you've never seen the sun or something.” He gives a half smirk, though he was slightly annoyed. He didn't like small talk- he just wanted to get some plants without judgement.

“Where are you going?” The scientist questions, staring at the boy with an unreadable expression. He hesitates and shrugs.

“Oh, I was gonna go to that flower shop. No reason, really.”

“How funny, I was just about to go there myself. Though, I've been having trouble finding it.”

With Logan saying that, Ethan raised an eyebrow, questions bubbling inside of him, but he decided not to ask- even if this situation was a bit strange. Running into your boss and going to a flower shop- this was something straight out of a cheesy romance novel.

“I can show you the way if you want.” He shrugs, pushing back all of the questions and red flags.

“That'd be appreciated.”

After saying that, Ethan, without hesitation, grabs Logan's hand and starts walking. He didn't seem to think anything of it, but…

It wasn’t like he had to look good, though, he just felt a little special. He hums, adjusting his hat on his head and leaving the house.

It wasn’t the most eventful, but he did feel as if something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It’s just his anxiety, right? He has nothing he needs to worry about.

Logan's heart pounded in his chest as he held onto Ethan’s hand, his eyes lidded as he savours the warmth he was getting from this contact.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to make his heart go mad, and blood rush to his face. He could practically feel his ribcage shaking from the pounding of his heart. So, so warm… So soft…

A whisper escapes his lips as he follows the boy.

“I want to cut off your hand so that I can hold it forever…” He whispers, staring intently at their hands.

"Hm? You say something?” The boy questions.

“Nothing at all, just thinking aloud.” He excuses, his eyes trailing away from the other.

It wasn't weird for him to think out loud- he had done it at work all the time after all. But concern made it's way onto Ethan's face. But, he shakes his head.

It's probably just his anxiety. Maybe he needs to get back on medicine. Who knows? But there's nothing he should have to be worried about.

They arrived at the flower shop fairly quickly, and Ethan lets go of the other's hand, walking in with a hum.

Logan didn't seem to be too impressed with it all. He had only come because Ethan was going, after all. He didn’t care for these glorified plants and succulents. But Ethan seemed to like it.

He was chatting with the shopkeeper about this and that, and Logan was left to stare and wonder what he even liked about these.

But, he did seem happy.

Soon enough, he walked back over.

“Hey what'd you come here for? We could look together.” He gives his usual crooked smile that makes Logan's heart melt.

“Oh, nothing in particular. I simply wanted to study them.”

Ethan raises an eyebrow. Always research with this guy, huh?

“Cool, I guess.” He shrugs, looking over at the succulents. He was more fond of them than regular flowers- and in his opinion, they were prettier.

He picked up a pot containing an echeveria. Logan stares at it, before rolling his eyes. How gross.

“Oh, hey, they have fly traps.” Ethan points out, pointing to a small pot containing a small garden of surprisingly tiny venus fly traps.

“Check this out, Lo.” He smirks, putting his finger in out of the mouths, causing Logan to flinch- but Ethan seemed fine, pulling his finger out with ease.

“They're not as violent as the media makes them out to be. Unless you leave your finger in there- then it could, like, digest your finger.” He laughs, looking over at Logan.

“I'd take em, but they would probably freak Dee out.”

“Dee? Who's that?” Logan asks, his curiosity spiking at the name.

“Oh, she's my snake. Despite being quote unquote ‘dangerous’, she gets spooked quite easily.” He laughs.

Logan nearly sighs in relief. Just a snake- nothing he needs to worry about.

…

Worry?

He already knows that Ethan would never leave him, right? There's no way he could. And even if he tried, he would never let him. Ethan is his, and his alone. And he'll make sure of that.

“Well she sounds… lovely.” He wondered why he even cared for the reptile. Animals are just that- animals. They can't love or communicate. What's the point of them?

“You not a snake fan?” Ethan raises an eyebrow.

“It's not that. I'm not very fond of animals in general.” He explains. “Though I can admire them from a distance.”

“Hah, aren't you the edgelord?” He jokes, nudging Logan slightly with his elbow.

He would have scoffed if it weren't for the small contact just made. He says nothing in response. Ethan puts the pot back gently, and turns to Logan, eyebrows knitting together in thought.

“I'll probably come back some other time…” He muses aloud, walking out, the scientist following behind shortly after.

“I'm headed home- what about you?” He asks, looking at the taller man.

He goes quiet. He would just follow Ethan, but that wouldn't be an appropriate thing to say.

“I'll probably go home myself.” He mumbles, never taking his eyes away from Ethan's.

“Alright, cool. Guess I'll see you tomorrow!” He gives a lopsided smile and leaves, Logan staring at his back as he does so.

Logan could feel the familiar warmth growing in his chest. It was something he had gotten used to by now. He never wanted to stop looking at him.

Thoughts swarmed his head, and he grabs the wall for support as he legs practically go weak, his breathing ragged and face unnaturally red. He gets strange looks from the few customers and the single worker there. He shakes his head, leaving the store slowly, his hand to his chest.

He wants to touch him. Hold him. Hear his voice, smell his hair, see his smile, taste his blood and insides. A strained giggle escapes his mouth.

He'd like to see the boy squirm. He wonders what his skin would look like, bruised and bloodied. The thought in itself, made him feel short of breath.

This boy will be his. His. And only his. No one else can have him.

★☆★

His collection has been going swimmingly well.

Hidden in his closet were photos and belongings. All of it was Ethan. He had completely memorized Ethan's schedule and routine. It's been a month and 3 days. Logan's given up on his own necessities just to sneak into the smaller boy's house. He knows every nook and cranny. Even a little room that Ethan never goes in.

He noticed that his little toy had been getting nervous lately, and had even confided in him, telling him that he felt he was being watched. Of course he had no idea he was confessing this to the exact person stalking him.

He giggles at the thought. How cute. Maybe one day Ethan will become entirely dependant on him… How nice.

He heard that Ethan would be moving come August. He giggles to himself. That would never happen.

Truth be told, he had tried countless times to make a robotic replica of Ethan. But, in the end, it was never good enough. Never.

He wasn't warm. He couldn't breathe. He didn't have emotion. He couldn't bleed.

But he had a plan. A plan so that his beloved would never leave his grasp.

★☆★

The moment he had entered, Ethan felt a chill down his spine. Something felt off. Like something bad was going to happen. It was almost unnaturally quiet. He felt his fears crawl up his back as he takes a few steps inside the dark home.

Logan wasn't here.

That part was normal.

What wasn’t normal was the fact that not a single robot had greeted him. No Patton, no Roman, and hell, not even a sign of Virgil.

He bites his lips, fear turning to worry as he walks into the office. But nothing.

His fear only increases before a rush of pain goes through his head. Before he can even register what had happened, the world goes black, and he hits the cold ground.

When he woke up, he expected he'd be dead, or in someone's basement, ready to get killed.

But it took him a moment to process the sight in front of him.

“... L… Logan?” He murmurs, still shaky from whatever had hit him earlier. His eyes adjust slowly to the darkness of the room, as he watches Logan, who in turn was watching him back.

“I see you've awoken. I hope I didn't hit you too hard- but I just couldn’t help myself.” His eyes go lidded as he says this, and he stands, walking to the small cage that contained Ethan.

“Y-You… What?”

Logan hums, seemingly unhappy with his answer.

“You never cease to amaze me, my beloved.” He gives a breathy laugh, leaning against the cage. Ethan could see just how red the scientist’s face is. “I had always doubted the path I chose. My dreams… They felt all on hold. But… Then you came.”

He reaches into the cage, caressing Ethan’s cheek with a cold hand, making his shiver.

“My beloved… You surprised me with just how perfect you are… When I doubt, you're my belief… Whenever you're not with me, I feel as though I could die. Again and again, you… You never fail to remind me how perfect you are.”

Ethan wanted to vomit.

“Logan… What the fuck is this..!?” He hisses out, his body shaking, and his eyes wide. Logan laughs at this reaction.

“That look in your eyes… Perfect. I wish I could stare forever.” He hums, leaning against the cage more. “My body… It's burning whenever I'm around you, Ethan.”

His eyes go wide, before laughter escapes him.

“Oh, my beloved… I just want to eat you whole.”

Ethan could vomit right now. He has to be dreaming, he has to be. Logan had been so nice to him up til now- why was this happening? What the fuck happened?!

“Don't look like that, love.” Logan purrs, and the cage door opens.

He can't even register what's going on before, once again, the world goes black.

★☆★

He doesn’t know how many days have passed. Has it been months? Weeks? He's not even sure. His little room is completely deprived of outside light.

Scars littered his body. Slits that the scientist used as lips for him to kiss.

He shuddered, remembering the feeling of the tongue inside of his body, invading his insides, wiggling like a worm.

“Don't cry, don't worry… It's supposed to bleed the first time.”

He'd vomit if he had a full stomach.

Is this his life now? Is he some sort of slave to this fucked up… demon? The demon that had taken his humanity from him. His daily life, his friends and family, the outside world, his rights as a human. All of that was in the hands of the demon he had once seen as a friend.

Hot tears burn in his eyes. He felt utterly exhausted. He just wanted to die already.

Just… Die.

Die.

Everything seems to pause as that thought came into his head. Is he really just going to let that happen?

He hears footsteps.

Is he going to let this demon take everything from him?

The sound of keys clatter.

Is he going to let himself die here?

The door starts to open.

Is he going to let this man treat him like a slave? Or is he going to take back his rights to being a human?

“Ethan, my beloved…” The man's voice lingers in the air. Ethan felt sick. “I'm glad to see you're awake..”

“Yes…”

Logan pauses for a second, before smiling. “I'm glad you're finally submitting to me. Has my training been working?”

Ethan catches glance of the familiar scalpel in the scientists hands.

“Don't worry… I'll be sure to return the love you give me.”

Logan seemed pleased with that answer, opening the cage. But, he didn't expect what happened next.

Ethan jumps, using every ounce of whatever strength he had remaining, and tackles the scientist to the ground.

“Give you back the love, my ass!”” He shouts, taking the scalpel, cutting his hand in the process. He didn't care. He didn't care at all.

“I am NOT your slave, you bastard!” He screams, stabbing down into the scientist before he could even respond. “I'm a human! And you will not take that from me, you hear?”

He growls, punching into the wound, the man sputtering and choking under him. He didn't care he didn't care he didn't care.

He punches again, his fist digging into his stomach, reaching his wriggling insides. He could puke, but he never stopped.

He sees the man. He's crying, and for a moment he remembers that he's human. But, instead, he leans in to Logan's ear.

“Hey… Don't cry. Don't worry.” He punches into the wound again, a squishing, bloody noise sounding once he does so. “It's supposed to bleed the first time, right?”

Blood covered him at this point, the man's stomach practically torn open and his intestines in a tangled, scratched up mess. He knew he was probably dead by now. He doesn’t know how long it's been.

He looks down at the body, and at himself.

He was covered in blood. His pants, his shirt, his arms. Hell, probably his face too. He doesn't care. He stands up, body shaking as he looks down once more at the freshly dead man. He can't even feel pity.

He spits on the body, turning and leaving the room.

It took him awhile, but he found the bathroom and washed off the blood to the best of his ability. He felt gross.

Leaving the house, he notices that it's night time. He so badly wants to burn the house down. Set it aflame, run, and never look back.

But instead, he simply locks the door and walks away. He knows that Logan has no other friends or family.

No one will find him for a while. No one will miss him.

His mind felt blank as he stumbled through the streets. He almost didn't recognize where he was. He was so dazed. It took him a few hours to make it back home, having to take breaks and dry heave or catch his breath.

He stares at his door, looking at his hands that were previously covered in blood. He winces slightly. He knows that this will stay with him for the rest of his life. He wanted to sleep, but time only stood still as he opened his door.

What is he going to say to his family? What would they think? He feels gross. But…

He collapses onto his bed. The familiar comfort swallowing him whole.

And he cried.

It had been a while since he's cried like this. But it felt good to finally let it all out.

There's so much he should worry about. So, so much.

So much he went through, so much he has to explain. So many thoughts, so many emotions.

He feels his eyes close.

It was at that moment he realized how ungodly tired he was. Tomorrow.

He can worry about it tomorrow.

All of his worries, doubts, fears, nausea, anxiety…

He can deal with it tomorrow. He can see his family. He can see his friends.

But that's for tomorrow.

For tonight, he'll forget everything. Leave it for himself when he wakes up. He'll forget his emotions, his fears, and the events that had happened.

He forgets it all.

And, even if it's just for that moment. Just for that night. Just for that sleep.

Things are calm.

And everything, even if it doesn't last, feels normal.

Safe.

Those are his final thoughts before the most comfortable sleep he's had in weeks swallows him whole.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #deceit sanders #loceit #sympathetic deceit #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #snake.txt #my fics #My writing #tw #theres alot to tag so #ask to tag #sorry ive been so inactive haha #i feel like im forgetting to tag something #anyway hope you enjoy

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han100894 · 5 years

Text

Some of My Frustration with NNT

So this is probably going to be a controversial take, but as much as I like NNT, there are things about it that have been bothering me.

One big one is, despite attempting at least lip service, the girls often vastly get overshadowed by the guys.

(Note, this is me airing my frustrations, I still like NNT, I like all of theses ships to some extent, I don’t mean to rain on anyone’s parade. It would be awesome to know if anyone else agrees, but mostly I’m just trying to make myself feel better and honestly it may not be the best written and I’m probably forgetting points that made me feel this way and I’m sure I’ve forgotten things in the Manga itself.)

Just look at the three biggest ships: Kaine, Banlaine, and Melizabeth.

I like Kaine, it was my first favorite ship but… it’s ultimately King’s story. The majority of the focus is on King’s POV and feelings. Even Daine’s memory loss is played more about how he feels than her—she doesn’t even get a chance to get mad at Gowther for it, or for that matter angry at King—no instead King gets mad on her behaft. She gets pulled around by the plot, and the memory loss in particular to give King extra angst. Even her confused feeling for Meliodas are mostly played as comic relief, drama fodder early on with Elizabeth, and to King more angst. We get very little from her POV.

And whenever Diane tries to protect King (In my memory at least) it always backfires on her, leading to King to Angst and “power up” and come to the rescue.

She has no real major victories to her name. Generally in any fight from the second half of arc 1 and moving forward she’s either coached by King (The Vytle festival, he saves Diane and defeats his enemy alone, but Diane needs couching), or King takes the spotlight (fighting Helbram, fighting Mael)

The only plot point she gets on her own is the brief time with Matrona after she loses her memory once again. Otherwise her plotlines are heavily tangled with King’s and again we usually see things from King’s point of view. Even when they both went back to the past Diane ends up goofing off but King notices something is wrong. We just—we never get into her head like we do King. We don’t see anywhere near the kind of character development he has.

And King gets several plots unconnected to Diane, Helbram, the fairy forest, Ban and his sister, his inferiority complex…

I just wish she’s get some focus that didn’t revolve around King (or Mel)—and also that she got a chance to protect King without it instantly backfiring on her or making King feel bad about himself again…

(Also, there is no reason for Diane to be “equivalent of 15” none at all. Made even worse once King gets to go through “fairy puberty” in an instant and grow up something she can’t do (Also why the heck would 700=15 when giants only live to like 2000?)

And then Banlaine:

Let’s be honest, Elaine exists almost completely as a prop for Ban’s story, up to and including dying on him (aka being fridged) and causing his manangst and driving his story). She spend half the story dead and the other half deathly ill. She has little to no interaction with anyone else—even her conversations with her own brother is all about Ban.

She doesn’t even really get much of a say about the whole thing, Ban’s quest to save her, it just is.

I do think the Raven’s arc was the best arc, but it was so entirely because of Jericho and her character development and drive, not because of Elaine. She had one moment of cute interactions with Elizabeth as they fought off two people who had no build up and were pretty much fodder, and then she had one moment where she saved Ban and managed to “grow up” something that’s downplayed slightly by being part of the reason Ban gets into his huge angst, and her losing her upgrade literally the next time we really see her just in time for Ban to save her (And turning her back into a child look alike) something that was truly not necessary. Gloxina didn’t lose his wings when he died, and wings are literally something fairies are killed for to sell—she could have stilled died and not lose her upgrade.

Honestly what I want from her is her to get to talk with her god damn brother, and maybe actually work things out on screen how he hurt her, and her understanding how he did so almost entirely unintentionally without Ban being their or brought up would be nice. Off screen does not count at all either. other than that let her be a person and not a prop!

And finally Melizabeth

Technically, or at least some people believe so, Meliodas and Elizabeth are the two main, main characters of the story. Honestly I kinda feel that Meliodas, Ban and King are the one who have gotten the most development and focus throughout the whole story, or at least until recently.

Elizabeth has tried, but in a lot of situation she’s been a plot point (Getting kidnapped, the seed not being in the cup for her test, ect) or had a lot of her agency taken from her to push the story along. Ever since she got her memories back she’s been trying to change that yes, but so far has instead been nearly instantly kidnapped and put into a situation where she could only be saved by others. (And yes, in story context she as in a bad situation for her powerset, but Nakaba still decided to have this happened to her and decided that she could do nothing to help just after she decided she would do something about all of this. It’s not like he didn’t have a choice.)

Meanwhile Meliodas has mostly treated Elizabeth like a child—which is fair considering she is one, she’s only 16 (Seriously, why couldn’t she have been at least 18, what would that have changed other than a tiny bit of the creepy factor)—but even after she regains her memories, he decides what he’s going to do with no input from her (Take the Commandment, break the curse, kidnap her, ect) and yes he has no emotions at the time but it’s still really shitty and only a step more than earlier when he refused to allow her to join the Sins again at the start of arc 2, without even explaining why, and even insulting and hurting her instead.

And it’s not that I want her to be a badass fighter. I’m fine with her being a realistic pacifist and mostly a healer and leader—that’s great. I just want her to have more agency instead of being shoved around to force the plot to do what Nakaba wants and get a chance to actually help Meliodas like she wants.

Bonus: Monspeet and Derieri

Their relationship is interesting, as on its outside it’s actually reverses some of the tropes this story has. Derieri is the one who get most of the focus and character development, while Monspeet is somewhat behind her. And in a twist, instead of the girl being fridged for the guy’s character development, the guy is fridged for the girls. Something rare enough that I actually thought that Monspeet’s death was somewhat okay (Up until Derieri’s story faltered right after).

Derieri has the same somewhat realization as Elizabeth—she was always the one being protected by Monspeet, being taken cared of by him, and how she wanted to be the one who did it back.

But then just as she was getting a big moment, finally a chance to somewhat redeem herself and try and help stop this war and save Mael, she is killed just as she’s about to do it, stopping her story cold turkey.

And now with Mael doing the weird reincarnation thing I have to ask why. If she’s almost certainly going to come back at some point (probably in the sequel—Arthur’s story I’d assumed if it actually happens) why couldn’t she have succeeded when she was so close. Why did she have to be worfed to show off Mael and eventually being the catalyst to power up King.

It’s just… frustrating.

I just wish she’s been allowed to succeeded after everything. I wish she’d gotten at least one moment where she protected Monspeet.

Last complaint

And one thing that has bothered me over all is, most notably while Ban and Meliodas were in Purgatory, how “We are going to get out of here and save our girls” which is great I guess, but, both them, and King in his “I have to protect you” say it so often that it almost feels…infantizing. The guys are so obsessed with taking care of and protecting the girls who don’t get the same chance to do it for them, or try and get punished for it, or realize to late and it’s just…

Ban and Mel really do it, King has his huge “I have to save everyone” complex, even Monspeet goes overboard with Derieri a bit (hitting away the rocks anyone). Escanor is similar, though he respects and believes in Merlin as much as he wants to jump to her defense making him a bit of an exception but I have no idea if Escalin is supposed to be a thing or not at this point. Margret got to be political prisoner for ages, and when she went out to find Gil she gets manipulated into becoming Ludo’s host. Veronica gets a whole side plot only for it to suddenly stop with no conclusion.

I just want the girls to get to do cool things, sometimes completely unconnected to the boys, and not have it backfire on them or get overshadowed. I want the relationships to have more equal screen time between each partner, Is that so much?

#seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #me being kinda salty #ignore me if you want

57 notes · View notes

solastia · 6 years

Text

Shayde | 2

Chapters: [1]

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 5,924

Genre & Warnings: Angels & Demons au, Fluff, angst. Mentions of stalking.

Summary: Whenever a human is born, they are automatically assigned a guardian angel. And Lucifer, not to be outdone, assigned the child a “guardian demon” as well. Twenty-four years ago, a baby girl was born and was assigned her guardians. Bright, energetic Hoseok as her angel. And Yoongi; a demon so apathetic that guiding her down a bad road was too much work for him. After Guardian Hoseok goes missing, Yoongi and his charge must team up to find their hope.

Notes: Don’t forget that with Y/N type fics, you can use the interactive fics chrome extension to fill it in with a name of your choice.

»»————-

This was quite possibly the most horrible dream you’ve had yet, and you’d been having nothing but nightmares for weeks. You thankfully knew you were dreaming, but the horror you felt was genuine. You were standing in the middle of an old, rusty warehouse. The air was stale and dusty. There was debris everywhere, showing that it had been abandoned for years. The floor where you were standing was covered in what you were pretty sure was blood splatters. Most of the stains appeared as though they’d been there for a while and could have been anything, but you’d watched enough crime shows to know the difference between rust and blood. And if that wasn’t terrifying enough, the walls of the warehouse were lined with glowing bottles that were screaming. Screaming like something was trapped inside and desperate to get out.

Overwhelmed, you backed up and tripped over someone’s leg, falling onto your hands and knees, which were now aching somewhat realistically. You look up to find a gorgeous blonde haired man staring at you with a horrified expression. He was shackled to the wall with thick chains, including something behind his back that looked suspiciously like wings.

“What are you doing here, Y/N? Run! Run before he sees you! Stay with Yoongi!” He screeched, glancing between you and a reinforced steel door with frantic eyes. You didn’t know how this man knew your name, but he seemed frightened enough that you decided to take him seriously, so you jumped up to look for a way out when you caught the man’s scent. Vanilla and citrus, just like...

“You!” The tone of your voice must have tipped him off that you were on the verge of figuring out something because he paused his efforts to make you run away long enough to give you one tiny, pained smile.

“Me. Now run, Y/N. If he catches you...I can’t watch you die. That will break my heart. I love you, and if you ever get the chance to see Yoongi, tell him I love him too.” Tears were streaming down his face, but he was still gesturing with his head for you to leave.

You nod in agreement, not knowing what else to say, and stand up to look around for a way out. There were quite a few windows, but they were incredibly high up the walls. You scanned the room for a ladder when you heard a clinking noise. You look back at the man and find him gawking at the steel door in terror as the lock jiggles. Someone is coming in.

The man throws his head back and screams at the top of his lungs, a sound so loud and piercing coming out of him that you have to cover your ears, hoping that they don’t burst. Glass shatters around you and the steel door slams open to reveal a man angrily scowling at the noise. He finally catches sight of you, his eyes widening in shock. Suddenly, his face turns dark and cold as he begins stalking towards you, like a tiger that had spotted its prey.

So you run.

You don’t know where to go, but you just run, glass crunching beneath your feet and slashing across exposed skin as it fell.

You awaken with a jolt and stare at your ceiling, body still paralyzed and shaking with fear. You remind yourself over and over that it was just a dream as you will yourself to breath deeply and relax.

You sink into the plush mattress as you slowly calm down, fear now being replaced with a more familiar emotion of exhaustion. As you debate whether to go back to sleep or get up to at least go to the bathroom, you hear a small snore next to you and freeze in shock. You slowly turn your head only to find someone is in your bed! You quickly stumble off of the bed with a screech, tripping over your feet and landing on your butt. You watch in fear as the ebony haired man shoots up and looks around before staring down at you with worry in his sleep-heavy eyes.

“What are you doing down there, dummy? Come back to bed. It’s not even noon yet,” the man rasps with his voice still thick with sleep. He plops back down and snuggles into the pillow like a little cat and closes his eyes.

You stare at him and think that crazy stalkers should not be this cute. It’s totally unfair. You slowly stand up so you don’t startle him and look around for something to grab. You finally spot your tennis racket that you haven’t used in forever and grab it before cautiously making your way back to the bed.

The man opens one eye slightly to peek at you and frowns slightly. More of a pout really. A cute one at that.

“Why aren’t you responding to my influence today? You love to sleep. Come back to bed, Y/N. Sleep for another hour or so, and then we can go get lamb skewers.” He groans sleepily and reaches out with one hand to make grabby hand motions. If this weren’t some crazy nutjob, you’d totally freak out over how cute the pouty, tired mess was.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my bed?” You growl and hold the racket up menacingly.

He opens one eye slowly and then another, peering at you curiously. “Y/N? Can you...see me? There’s no way you’re actually seeing me, is there?”

“Of course I can see you. There is a strange man in my fucking bed, it’s not a hard thing to see. Get the fuck out of my house. The cops are already on their way.” You bluff and hold the racket up higher.

He pushes himself up, gawking at you in wonder. “You can see me? You can answer me? Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“I didn’t hit my head or something. You’re holding up three fingers.” You observe as he looks down at his hand to confirm he really was holding up three before quickly shooting back to you.

He stands up and walks towards you, so you try to back up and hold the racket in front of you.

“Stay back. I will beat the shit out of you if I have to.” You wave the racket to warn him, but he just keeps coming, staring at you with such an awestruck expression you didn’t know what to think.

“So you can hear me and see me. Can you touch me?” He asks as he reaches one beautiful long-fingered hand out towards you. You panic and swat it away, but that seems to be enough because he’s smiling and doing a little raspy chuckle that does things to your insides.

“Holy shit. What is happening?” He whispers, still smiling.

You frown at him in confusion, not understanding his weird reaction. “That’s what I’m wondering. Who are you and what are you doing in my house, let alone my bed?”

“I...I have no fucking clue how to explain this to you without sounding insane.” You widen your eyes, and he must sense your impending panic because he puts both palms out in a pleading gesture. “Okay, wait. I have one idea. Lay on the bed.”

“What the fuck? How about hell no? Leave, now!” You shriek and advance towards him with the racket.

He just stares at you intensely, his cat-eyed gaze boring into you, and with a deep growl orders you, “Lay on the bed, Y/N.”

A warm feeling starts in your toes and works it’s way up until finally reaching your head, which begins to feel a little fuzzy. Suddenly, nothing sounds better than being in bed. A small part of you feels like that’s not right, but you give in.

With a deep sigh, you set the racket down and lay on the bed, not bothering with covers. You follow the man as he walks back around and lays on the bed next to you, positioning himself so you’re face to face. You quietly observe him, noting the small pouty lips, cute boopable nose, and sleepy eyes. It’s really too bad that someone as pretty as him was crazy as shit.

“Sorry. That’s my influence. Normally, I don’t like to use it full strength because it feels like force. Okay, so, this next part is going to sound really weird. Smell me.” He whispered as a blush slowly appeared on his cheeks. You raise your eyebrow and scowl, but he quickly adds, “I promise, it’s not a weird sniffing kink thing or something. Just, relax and smell me. I know you are aware of my scent because you’ve mentioned it before.”

You scrunch your nose at that but scoot a little closer to inhale the air near him. Coffee and spices like cinnamon and nutmeg. But that’s...

The man begins to hum, the deep raspy tune as familiar to you as your own face, having heard it every night for as long as you can remember.

“Ghostie?” You murmur in disbelief. There’s no way he could possibly exist, but there he is, humming his song as he watches you with an almost tender grin.

“Well, it’s Yoongi, actually. But yeah, it’s me.”

Your eyes travel his face, memorizing all of his features, from his beautiful eyes to the lips smiling at you gently. You’d wondered for so long about the “ghosties” that seemed to be a permanent presence in your life. And here is “Yoongi.” Tangible and speaking to you. It was both terrifying and wondrous.

“I don’t understand.” You whisper. Either he was crazy, or you were, right?

Yoongi sighs and reaches out a hand, lacing it through one of yours. You take a quick glance and are astounded to learn that even his fingers are pretty. Long and elegant, with thick veins that were strangely attractive.

“To be honest, I’m not completely clear on everything myself. I’m guessing when God said he removed the mental blockage you had, that made you able to see supernatural beings? Fuck if I know,” he huffed.

“God. As in...the God?”

“Yeah. We just met. Kinda weird, but seemed alright.”

“Yeah, sure. Cool. You met God. There’s a ghost in my bed. It’s all good.” Because if invisible companions can be real, why not God himself. You briefly thought about sending a note to your favorite show. Your life would make a great episode.

“Demon.”

“What?”

“I’m...actually a demon. Your guardian demon. Everyone gets an angel and a demon. I’m your demon.”

You stare blankly at Yoongi. Demon. Okay then.

“Uh, yeah. Cuz that makes it better. Demon, cool. Wait, if I have an angel too, why can’t I see him?”

“He’s not here. He’s the reason the block in your mind was removed. He’s been taken, and I think I’m going to need your help to get him back. The reason you’ve been feeling so horrible lately is because of the lack of your guardian. It will only get worse the longer he’s gone.”

“How can I possibly help to find an angel?”

Yoongi snorts and shrugs as well as he can laying on his side.“To be perfectly honest, I’m not very sure. Yixing said something about you having powers, but that he wasn’t sure what you were capable of. So you believe me?”

“Yixing? Nevermind, I don’t need to know. As for believing, I’m still wondering whether this is just a really vivid dream, but sure.” You sigh deeply and rub your eyes in frustration. Yoongi scowls and grabs your arm, bringing it closer to his face.

“Wait, what’s wrong with your hand? And your arm? What the hell?” It’s almost endearing how worried he looks as he takes in every cut on your arm.

“I...I’m not sure. I haven’t really been going outside much.” You begin to frown as well as you take in the extent of your injuries. The scrapes on your hand look suspiciously like the ones you got when you tripped over the guy with wings in your dream. And the cuts on your arm could have easily been caused by falling glass. But it couldn’t be, right? That was absurd.

“It couldn’t possibly be my dream...” You mutter thoughtfully, stroking your poor arm.

“What dream?” Yoongi demands. You glance back to his face and contemplate telling him your thoughts even though it would make you sound nuts, but he did claim to be a demon, so he was not in a place to judge.

“I had this really freaky dream this morning. There was a guy with wings chained up in a warehouse. A bunch of glass fell on me and cut me in the dream, but why would I be so cut up in real life?”

Yoongi shoots up until he’s sitting in the bed, staring down at you suddenly appearing excited.

“Guy with wings? Blonde, big smile, sharp nose, squeaky ass voice?”

“He was blonde, and I thought his voice was nice. Kinda raspy but smooth at the same time, I dunno. He knew my name. Kept telling me to run. To go back to...you? Wait, he told me to stay with Yoongi. How did I know your name before you told me?” Instead of answers, you were just growing more and more confused.

“Because I don’t think you were dreaming. I think you may have astral projected, like your soul was searching for Hoseok by itself. And I think you may have found him. Describe the dream in detail. And I swear to God if you make a single Charmed reference...”

“How did you know I was thinking about Charmed?”

Yoongi shoots you a look that you interpret to mean Are you kidding me?

“Because you watch the reruns on tv every morning with your coffee, and you smile and laugh like it’s your first time watching, and it drives me crazy. Why do you act surprised everytime Cole fucks up? You already know what’s going to happen. You gasp like you’re all amazed whenever they win the day like you had no clue. And I knew you’d made a Prue reference since I was talking about astral projection. Now, describe your dream.” It was funny how he sounded upset, but you could swear you caught him grinning. It was also a little weird meeting someone that already knew everything about you.

You chew on your bottom lip and try to think.

“I didn’t see anything to specifically pinpoint a location if that’s what you’re wanting; Just that it was an old abandoned warehouse, big and rusty. Might have been for cars at one point, because there were tires everywhere. There was blood on the ground, but old blood, so it couldn’t have been from the man. He was chained up to the wall and had chains around his wings even. The craziest thing was all the screaming blue bottles on the wall.”

“Blue screaming bottles? Maybe angel grace...” He chews his lip in thought, scrunching his nose. Cute.

“Angel grace? You mean like that stuff that Cas...” You begin before Yoongi glares at you.

“Ok, the Charmed rule goes for Supernatural too.”

You pout and sit up, crossing your arms. “It’s not my fault my life suddenly looks like a damn TV show.” You mumble.

“Oh!” You perk up and grin at Yoongi. “He told me he loved me and that if I see you, to tell you he loves you too.”

Yoongi’s face is bright red and you can tell he’s fighting off a grin. ‘Yeah, that’s Hoseok, alright.”

You’re about to ask him more about the man with wings, “Hoseok,” when your stomach started rumbling. You grin sheepishly at Yoongi, who just shakes his head.

“Go get ready. We’ll get you skewers.”

»»————-

Yoongi watches as she pads to the bathroom, mumbling to herself. She was doing surprisingly well taking in all this information. And Yoongi...he was happy. Well, as happy as could be, considering the situation, but things were looking up. They had a lead to find Hoseok. It wasn’t much of one, but it was something. And maybe she’d be able to find him again. The biggest miracle, however, was she could see and hear him. Hoseok too, apparently. He knew that wherever he was being held, the angel was probably over the moon that he’d finally gotten to talk to her, even if it wasn’t a happy moment.

Yoongi smiled to himself as he made the bed, thinking of Hoseok squealing to him about it. “Hobi, we got to meet our girl.” He rumbled as he flashed a grin laced with amusement at the closed door to the bathroom as her voice screeched out some horrible pop song.

»»————-

You lean back in your seat, groaning in contentment as you lightly rub your belly. You felt full and a little more human after taking care of your needs. You admitted to yourself you’ve been slacking lately. Even doing something like going out to eat was difficult. Somehow having Yoongi with you made it easier.

“How did you know I liked lamb skewers?” You question mindlessly, as you wonder whether you have room for ice cream.

Yoongi glances at you incredulously over his own meal. “Didn’t we already cover this? I’ve been there since you were born. Hoseok and I basically had more of a hand in raising you than your parents did. I like meat. You get your sweet tooth from Hoseok.”

“You realize that’s a weird thing to say out loud when you look barely older than me, right?” You tease, flashing a smile at the woman that was now peeking over at Yoongi curiously.

Yoogi glared back, his face almost expressionless except that slight narrowing of his eyes. After a few moments, the woman blushes wildly and grabs her companions to leave the restaurant.

“That was mean.” You snicker at Yoongi as he smirks at you, satisfaction and smugness emanating from him at his successful intimidation.

“Demon, hello.” He gestures to himself sarcastically. “Besides, I’m still not used to people being able to see me. I can’t believe that your power turned off my cover for everyone. I’ve had to say hello to three people today, Y/N, three. That’s way too many.”

You snort and stand up. “Right. Demon. My bad.” You put the tip down on the table and lead him out of the restaurant. Hopefully, you can make it to the ice cream shop without any problems. You wanted to take full advantage of having more energy right now than you’d had in months.

“You know, you’re taking this even better than I thought you would.” Yoongi comments as the two of you walk slowly down the street.

“Mmm, to be perfectly honest, I’m still not entirely convinced I’m not in a really long, weird dream. I mean, we’re talking angels, demons, angel kidnappings, astral projection. Evidently, God is Chinese...I mean, this sounds like a bizarre fantasy show.” You laugh and kick a couple rocks as you walk along. “I’m not stupid though. I know that this is something real and I’m terrified. But I think you’re helping.” Yoongi blushes a little when you smile at him before he looks away, grumbling something under his breath that you didn’t catch.

The two of you fall into silence until you reach the shop. It was a good silence though, comfortable. Like, the both of you were merely processing and thinking, but you knew the other was there if you had a question.

Eventually, the both of you are on a park bench with two vanilla cones. You kick your legs back and forth as you observe him.

“So, you’re a demon?”

“Yeah. I thought we established that?” Yoongi grunts.

“Well, yeah. It’s just…I thought demons would be…taller? And have like, horns and stuff.”

“Oh my God, are you stereotyping me right now?” Yoongi glares at you until you apologize and feel like a jackass, then suddenly he smiles and chuckles lowly.

“Nah, I don’t care. But no, we just look like however we appeared when or if we were alive. So, I guess this is what I looked like when I was an angel.”

You stop midway through chewing a bit of cone when you realize what he said.

“Wait, angel? Can angels become demons?”

“Isn’t that kinda Satan’s whole thing? But yeah, I didn’t know about it until the guy claiming he was God told me. I’ve been too worried about you and Hoseok to really think about that much. I don’t remember being anything but a demon.”

Yoongi shrugs like it’s no big deal, but the little furrow in his brow tells you it’s bothering him at least a little. You reach up intending to comfort him when your body suddenly feels so weak, like it had for the past few months. So incredibly weak that you drop your cone on the ground, unable to even lift something like that. You feel yourself slumping and fighting to stay awake. Yoongi glances between you and the cone.

“Hey, since when do you waste food. ...Y/N? Hey, what’s wrong?” Yoongi leans over to study your face.

“Yoongi...so tired. I can’t move.” You whisper, groaning at the mere thought of having to stand up to walk home.

“Fuck, I thought that you acting normal was too good to be true. Don’t worry, I’ll get you home, baby girl.” Yoongi assures you as he picks you up like you’re a toddler, settling you on his hip and starts walking.

“You’re stronger than you look.” You mumble into his neck, your words slurred like you’d been drinking.

Yoongi chuckles. “One of the main benefits of being a supernatural being. Everything is more enhanced. I’m probably still a weakling compared to other demons or angels, but when I’m just dealing with a human, it’s not a big deal. You’re about as heavy as a kitten.”

It takes about ten minutes to walk home, but honestly, you were in no rush. Being cradled against Yoongi’s side like this was nice. His long fingers were warm and wrapped securely around your thighs as he held you to him. You leaned into his neck with closed eyes, breathing him the familiar and comforting scent of coffee and spices.

In the back of your mind, you knew that everything about this whole situation was insane and wrong. Demons, angels, apparently you had some kind of freaky powers...all of it was just crazy. That didn’t stop you from cuddling into Yoongi as much as possible. He felt like home, and even though you were back to being so tired, you still felt better than you had in months.

You were suddenly wrapped in soft linen, and Yoongi’s scent went further away. You realize he’s put you to bed and try to muster up enough energy to whine when he doesn’t immediately follow. The small mewl you manage is weak and quiet, but he still hears you.

“I’m coming, sweetheart. Just setting your alarm. We’re going to try going to school tomorrow, alright?” Yoongi slides in next to you, but it’s frustrating how he’s refusing to get closer. You wanted to cuddle.

“I didn’t even think about it, but I guess it’s weird for me to sleep here now that you know about everything. Do you want me to go sleep on the couch?”

“Stay, please.” You slur, tugging him with one finger to get him nearer.

He quietly huffs a little laugh and gets closer until he’s sharing your pillow. “Your fat ass is taking up the entire bed.”

“That better be p-h-a-t, or your ass is sleeping in the tub.”

Yoongi squeaks a cute little noise that sounds suspiciously like a giggle. He laces your hands together and hums his lullaby as you fall into a deep, undisturbed rest.

»»————-

“Hey, wake up, you’re gonna be late.”

Yoongi was shaking you awake from a really nice dream. You couldn’t remember much, but there was an ocean of lucky charms and a field of llamas involved.

“I can’t, I’m suffering from clinomania.” You finally managed to grunt out, your voice still rough with sleep.

“Should I call a doctor? What even is that?”

You snicker and peek an eye open to smirk at Yoongi.

“An excessive desire to stay in bed.”

“Hey, I think I have that too. Must be contagious.” He snorts and pets your hair. You lean into the touch, sighing contentedly. You’d missed the feel of this, being petted awake.

“So you were the one that played with my hair.”

Yoongi’s face is blushing a pretty pink, but thankfully he doesn’t stop threading his fingers through and lightly scratching the roots.

“I...uh. Yeah. If I woke up before you sometimes. I thought it was a better way to wake you. Hoseok likes to tickle. I punched him the first couple times he did it to me.”

You hum and cuddle in closer, vowing to yourself to be a cat in your next life, because this is amazing.

Yoongi clears his throat. “Do you need...uh..help? Like, can you stand on your own or...”

You sit up, missing the feel of his hands already. You take a moment to stretch thoroughly and swing your legs over the bed then push yourself up. You feel steady, much like how you felt when you woke up yesterday.

“I'll be okay for a while, I think. Looks like you don’t have to help me shower.” Yoongi sputters behinds you as you head to the bathroom to get ready.

When you’re done you go to the living room, the smell of coffee permeating the room. Yoongi is sitting on the couch drinking from a cup as another sits on the table. He glances up as you enter, gesturing to the steaming mug.

“Coffee and charmed. We have time to finish this episode before we leave.”

A different sort of warmth than you’d ever felt fills you. Crazy or not, he really takes care of you and pays attention to the little things. You cuddle in and drink your coffee, enjoying the quick moment of peace before you had to go to class.

“Why do you keep saying we? Why do you need to go to school with me?”

“Safety. I don’t know what kind of powers you have yet, but someone out there kidnapped your Guardian. He’s probably after me and you next. At least this way I can attempt to protect you.”

You hum, not knowing how to respond.

As you watch the show, you can’t help but glance between it and Yoongi from time to time. You had so many questions about him, and his supposed demoness and this show just kept reminding you.

“Will you stop staring at me? And I swear if you try to compare Cole and me in any way...”

“Whattttt.” You whine, bumping him with your shoulder. “He’s a demon that looks like a human too. I’m just wondering about the similarities.”

“None. He’s a tool. Phoebe should have kicked him to the curb years ago.”

You stare at Yoongi for a moment before laughing.” Oh wow, you totally watch this show with me all the time, don’t you?”

“I do not. Fuck you.” He mumbles, and you pull him up, grinning.

“Well, let's get going, Belthazor.”

“Just for that, I should leave you here. Give me your hands.” He orders with a deep sigh, reaching his out to you.

You glance at it curiously, raising an eyebrow at him. “Did you want to hold my hand all the way to school?”

“No, as much as I’m sure you would enjoy that. I’m going to transport you.”

You eye him suspiciously, unsure of where he was going with this, but you do as he says and thread your hand in his.

Suddenly, your vision is blinded by a crimson fog that was gone almost as soon as it appeared. You look around, a little shakey and disoriented, only to realize you are standing right in front of your classroom.

“I’m...what? What just happened?”

Yoongi cocks an eyebrow at you. “Supernatural being, remember? I can be anywhere instantly.”

“That is so cool. I take back all the things I was thinking about you not being a demon and just a being a hot, crazy figment of my imagination.”

Yoongi was opening the classroom door for you and pauses. “You think I’m hot? He asks with a smirk.

You ignore his smug expression and instead narrow your eyes at him as a thought comes to you. “So you mean you could have done that yesterday instead of carrying me around? Why didn’t you just do that?”

Yoongi promptly turns and walks into the classroom without answering you, although not fast enough that you didn’t catch his blush.

You decide to let him get away with it this once and just plop into the seat next to him.

“Hey, how are we going to explain your sudden appearance in here?” You ask as you set your books out.

Yoongi shrugs and leans back in his chair. “The room is big enough he won’t even notice me. If he somehow does, tell him I’m an exchange student. From Japan. I’ll order Takoyaki in Japanese because that’s all I know, he’ll totally buy it, and leave me alone.”

“Solid plan.” You nod playfully and relax into your seat as you wait for class to start.

Eventually, the rest of the students begin coming in, filling the huge room. A whiff of strong cologne surrounds you, and you sit up straight and square your shoulders as you prepare yourself. Yoongi peers at you curiously and starts to question you, but a tap on your shoulder distracts the both of you.

You paste a fake smile on your face and turn around. “Taehyung, good morning.”

The guys behind you is beautiful, there’s no denying that. With his golden skin and similar colored hair, a bright smile, and a barely tamed wild aura.

“Morning, Y/N! You’re looking better today. I saved notes for you!” His deep voice greets you cheerily.

“Thanks, Taehyung. I appreciate that.” You whisper, too terrified to make actual conversation when you suspect what you do.

Yoongi clears his throat, still looking at you with worry, before he places his hand out for Taehyung.

“Yoongi. Nice to meet you.” He murmurs, narrowing his eyes at the other man.

When Taehyung’s eye met Yoongi’s, you could have sworn you caught a flash of happiness that shifted into pure terror, before his face finally fell expressionless.

“Taehyung. Pleasure.” He shook the proffered hand then sent you a little wave before opening his book and not saying another word.

The rest of the class went by quickly, without any more interactions with Taehyung, for which you were grateful for. When the last person left, Yoongi pulled you into an empty area and transported you back home. He led you to the couch and sat you down, glaring at you as he practically towered above your seated form.

“Okay, spill. What was that with the kid?” He growls. It was probably the wrong time to find that hot, but you couldn’t help it.

You sigh and lean into the back of the couch. “That’s Taehyung. I’m not sure. He was really sweet when I met him, well, he’s still sweet. It’s just...” You chew your lip in thought as you think back.

“Just...? Don’t try lying to me. I can feel you’re terrified.” Yoongi prompts impatiently.

“Wait, you can feel my emotions? Like, all of them?”

Yoongi shoots you a disgusted glare. “Don’t try to deflect. But yes. Now, go on.”

You file that tidbit of info away to interrogate him on later.

“Fine. I think he might be stalking me? He just keeps appearing in places I am, he sits near me in every class. And I swear I saw him following me home one night when I was coming back from the convenience store.”

“Shit. You should have told me so I could have at least crushed his hand really hard.” Yoongi pouts, making you giggle lightly.

Yoongi plops down next to you and stares at the wall ahead as he thinks. “I didn’t get a read on him at all. He just seems like a regular human, but we can’t take chances when someone is coming for us.”

“So is he suspect number one, then?”

Yoongi snorts. “Sure, suspect one. We’ll keep an eye on him. We also need to figure out how to get you to astral project again, see if you can get any info from Hoseok about where he is. And we need to figure out what your powers are and how they can help us.”

“So what do we do?” You ask as you lean in, instinctually seeking his comfort.

Yoongi pulls you in and wraps his arm around your should, sighing wearily. “I’m not sure myself. We can go see my friend Kihyun. He’s a demon like me but fairly chill. He’s more into the sin of gluttony, so you’ll be safe. More importantly, he has a lot of connections, and might know of someone we can talk to about all this.”

You yawn loudly, your lethargic state coming back, but somehow not as bad as before.

“Can we just chill at home today? We can order whatever you want and watch TV? Maybe let me ask you a bunch of dumb questions?” You ask, fluttering your lashes for good measure.

Yoongi huffs and nuzzles his nose into your hair. “Yeah, that sounds good. I suppose it’s only fair you learn more about me, considering I know pretty much everything about you.”

You smile and pull up the takeout app for Yoongi to use, listening to him mutter to himself as he goes through the options.

You have no idea what your life has become, but somehow you trust Yoongi will keep you safe. And as you lean in closer, chuckling over his serious debate of Thai vs. Chinese, you find yourself feeling a tiny speck of happiness for the first time in a while.

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