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danielxricciardo · 3 years

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Where do we go from here

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Chapters: 1/?

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,015

Playlist for the series

It was your fault when you agreed to go to Monaco. After what happened the last time, you swore you would never go back there. Because it fucked with your mind and soul. You were crushed and your best friend had to scrap you off the floor for weeks, he had to remind you to shower and to eat. Knowing he will be so pissed you chose to go back to him, you didn't tell him you were leaving for a week until you were on the plane. His reaction was everything you were expecting, he called you a bitch and he advised you not to get back to him with a broken heart to cry on his shoulder then he hung up on you. Sure, you both knew you will cry on his shoulder after this week.

The entire flight you were questioning your life choices. How did you get there? You wanted - you needed to know how you allowed yourself to become dependent on a piece of affection from Daniel. You were trying to figure out when you became a sucker for him but you couldn't, maybe because you always were.

You'd always been good friends, ever since he moved from Australia to Europe. You were his first non-Australian friend and he was always been grateful for you and your friendship. You were with him even when he didn't ask you to and even when he told you he wanted to be left alone. That was your first choice. You went with him to almost all the junior competitions, until he reached Formula 1, you cried with him when he had a bad race and you partied with him on a podium or a win. Fuck it, 9 years later, you were still with him. Red Bull Racing was the team that helped him discover himself as a driver and gave him confidence that he could get far. After only one year in the team, he finished third in the drivers' championship with 238 points and secured the first fastest lap of his Formula One career at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.

But all this has consequences. The fact that he was so good and became so well known attracted many girls who wanted to meet him and be affiliated with him for increased media attention. The worst part was that he liked all the female attention. Who wouldn't like it? He could have a new girl every day and they would still not end. But Daniel was not the type to take such advantage of his name and his position in society, you thought at the time. But that was exactly what he did. At the end of the 2014 season, days would pass without hearing from him because he was too busy to enjoy the female attendance that crossed his threshold.

After a few months, you already had a pattern. For 5 days you would not hear from him and on Saturday morning he would call you with a guttural voice, asking you to come to his place. And you went there with some headache pills and for a few hours, you would listen to everything that had happened during the week with different girls. At first, it hurt a lot. To hear how your best friend and the person for whom you develop some romantic feelings, has fun, and fucks with different girls is not very ok, but over time the whole situation had become repetitive and you became immune.

But you didn't realize you became a regular girl in his bed too. The only difference between you and the tens, maybe the hundreds of girls before you, was that you warmed his bed on Saturday and Sunday. It was just you, all weekend, every weekend. You felt special. He gives you his full attention all weekend and you hope he doesn't need anyone but you, except that Monday was coming and you could see that to his right was another model looking for fame. But have you ever told him what bothers you? No. Because you'd rather share him with so many girls than not have him in your life at all.

So what happened when you ended up crying for weeks without eating or taking a shower? Daniel told you that he is done with all the girls and he wants to focus on his career. This is after in 2015 he finished the season in 9th place with only 92 points, without a victory, and only twice on the podium. Of course you were happy! Daniel was going to have only you in his life. But he told you that what was between you before, sex and everything else, must end as well. I mean, you had to go back to being just friends. But how do you go back to being just friends with the person you've shared the bed with so many times? Friends don't know the way you taste. Your luck was that you had to go for a visit to your parents for 2 weeks and you didn't have to see him. You had 2 weeks to lick your wounds and return to him without a broken heart. Troy, your best friend, was with you and he tried to put your heart back together. Just when he succeeded, you had to go back to Daniel as if nothing had happened. Broken heart? Who?

Making your own decisions makes you responsible for what comes out of that decision whether it was a positive move or not. Making your own decisions also allows you to make your own mistakes and learn from them. It was your decision to go back to Daniel, to your friend. It was hard to look at him and not want to kiss those fleshy lips but you could manage it.

"There she is!" you heard Daniel say as soon as the Nice Côte d'Azur airport gates opened. He was wearing his merch purple hoodie that you wore so many times before and a pair of black jeans. He had a pair of sunglasses on to keep him away from the press. You smiled. It's been 2 weeks since you've seen him and it's as if your heart has tightened in your chest. You really missed him. You ignored his calls because you didn't want to hear his voice and start crying on the phone and all the messages he sent you were deleted by Troy. You don't even know what he wrote to you.

"Hey, Daniel!" you said and hugged him. You were enveloped by the smell of his perfume and you smiled. He was your safe place. "Missed you."

He hugged you back and the force he put in that hug was enough to crush your bones. But it didn't hurt you. You wanted to be one with him, to be absorbed by him. Everything platonic, of course.

"Missed you too, Y/N."

The road to your house was not a long one but at that moment everyone seemed to be on the road at the same time as you so what needed to be a 45-minutes road trip was now more than an hour, and you were still in the car. The small talk already finished about your parents, your brother and your best friend, Troy, and about all the new things from your home town and at the moment in the car was an uncomfortable silence which none of you knew how to break.

"I tried to talk to you these 2 weeks, you know?" Daniel said and you swallowed loudly. You knew that at some point he would ask about why you didn't talk to him for two weeks, but you hoped it would take some time until then - you hoped you had more time to think about a pretty good reason.

"Yeah, sorry, I just wanted to focus on my people there, you know?" you bit the inside of your cheek until you felt the metallic taste of blood. You hoped it would be a pretty convincing reason but you knew after so many years of friendship that Daniel is not the type to press you if you don't want to say something.

"Yeah, I get it, I'm the same when I'm down under, y'know?" you both laughed, and for the first time in a long time you felt good around him. You felt yourself, no labels and no shoes to fill.

In front of your apartment block, after Daniel took all your luggage out of the car trunk, he leaned against the car, his hands folded, and looked at you.

"Aren't you going to help me get them up to my apartment?"

"Yes, in a minute," he says, still looking at you. "Would you like to do something tonight?"

You shrugged. You weren't tired after the flight, so you could have done something but you had so many questions. Just the two of you? Was anyone else coming? Any friends of his? Some girl? But you couldn't ask him, even if you were friends, you didn't want to give him the feeling that you were jealous. Were you jealous? You didn't have a reason just yet but you could become one.

"Sure. Do you have something in mind?"

"Remember Jay? He just opened a nightclub. Actually, tonight is the opening, he asked me to swing by for a few hours, want to go?"

"Yeah, sure, sounds like fun."

Daniel took two suitcases and passed you to enter the block, but he walked with the wheels over your toes.

"Hey, idiot, watch where you're going!" you yelled at him and immediately laughed. Daniel turned to you, laughing too. You didn't realize when you said it, but that was the exact phrase you told him when you first met.

You got out of the cab in front of the restaurant and slammed the door shut, despite the pleading of the driver to be gentle with his darling car.

You arranged your dress on your body and put your hair behind your ear. You were ready for this blind date that Ellie, your co-worker, planned for you. Of course, there were better things for you to do on a Friday night, such as drinking a bottle of red wine watching a few episodes of your favorite show. But you were there, prepared for a shitshow. You took a few steps towards the big glass door until someone hit you hard and made you unbalance and break a heel.

"Hey, idiot, watch where you're going!" you yelled at the boy that hit you. A tall, dark guy that made you lose the little balance you still had. A small amount of his curly dark-haired was peaking out under the white hoodie he was wearing and his brown big eyes were looking at you like you were a statuette that broke.

"So sorry," he said and the thick accent made your legs soft. Whatever accent that was, you knew you wanted to hear him talk non-stop. "Was looking for an address, I'm fucking lost."

"That's fine, maybe I can help you," you smiled at the boy and you took off your heels. One was already broken so there was no point in wearing them at this point.

"Oh, no, it's fine, you look so elegant, you must be dining with your boyfriend or something," he laughed and then saw the broken heel. "Bloody, I just broke your shoes, I'm so sorry!"

You laughed even harder at the panicked boy in front of you.

"No boyfriend, just a blind date I didn't even want to go in the first place so you saved me, I'm the one that should say thank you. Where do you need to go to?"

He came closer to you with a map in his hand. He showed you where he had to go and you explained to him that he was in the wrong part of the city but you were more than happy to show him the right way. But after you stopped at a boutique to buy a 5 euro pair of sandals.

"This city is not so big that you get lost in it," you told the boy, whose name is Daniel Ricciardo, he told you so. "How long have you been here?"

"Ugh, just a day, and I thought it was a good idea to go out and see the city, I even took this stupid map, but I still got lost."

"Okay, but why did you go out by yourself in the evening and not in the morning or, at least, when is sunny, y'know?" you ask him and point to his left, where you had to go.

"I woke up two hours ago. I slept for eleven hours with the whole time zone, jet lag, and shit and when I woke up I was hungry. I went to get some food and to visit the surroundings because why not," he shrugged.

"But where did you come from?"

"Perth, Australia, baby!" he smiled and leaned back, pulling his chest forward. Anyone could see how proud he was of his hometown.

"This is you!" you announced when you arrived in front of the apartment building, his final destination. He smiled so wide and hugged you.

"Thank you so much, you saved me!"

"No biggie," you smiled at him and then waved. "Bye, Daniel Ricciardo."

"Hey, hey, let's meet tomorrow for a brekky!" he casually announced.

"For a what?"

"Oh, sorry!" he laughed. "Forgot for a second you're not Australian. For breakfast."

"Sure, I'll come here at 9 so you won't get lost again. Bye, Daniel Ricciardo!"

"Bye, Y/N Y/L/N!"

"I'll come and pick you up at about 10 o'clock, ok?" Daniel announced just as he was about to leave your apartment after he got up all your luggage. "Sounds good?"

"Yep. All good."

"And wear something sexy!" he yelled as he was closing the front door. Something sexy? Why would he request a sexy outfit for a night out from you? His best friend. Sometimes Daniel made your head spin, that was one of those occasions, you didn't pay much attention to it, you just went to grab a shower.

The night had come too fast. Sure, you had enough time to put on makeup and do your hair, but you had no idea what to wear. You were sitting in front of the bed in your underwear, with three dresses lying on the bed when the clock struck 10 o'clock. You heard the front door open and close but you did not hurry to put something on yourself so that Daniel would not see you in your underwear; he saw you even worse than that.

"Hey, are you ready? Whoah!" he says and turns his back on you, with his hand covering his eyes. "You should have told me you were naked!"

You scoffed at him.

"Cut the crap and come help me pick a dress for tonight, Ricciardo."

Daniel removed his hand from the eyes and looked at you and swallowed hard. The underwear you were wearing was almost a silky one, black, that hugged your curves just right. He couldn't take his eyes off you and you loved all the attention.

"Stop drooling and come help me. Do you want to go to this club or not?"

Daniel came near you, his eyes were now on the push-up bra that lifted your breasts, making them fuller and bigger than they really were, and at that moment Daniel wanted nothing more than to touch them and play with them. But he remembered who was in front of him. He told his best friend that the sex games were now over because he was focusing on his Formula 1 career. That was not a lie at the time, but he just wanted to throw her in bed and make her forget the words he said that evening. He coughed a few times to regain his voice and then looked at the three dresses lying on the bed.

"That one," says the brunette and points to the short black dress that fits perfectly on your body. You would have chosen that one too.

"Ok, I'll be ready in a few minutes," you said and went to the bathroom to put the dress on. You adjusted your make-up and grabbed the bag and you were ready for a night out with Daniel. Or so you thought.

No one can see the dance floor, it's wall-to-wall people dancing to the club music. There's no room for any more but somehow Daniel was pulling my hand to where he knew Jay was sitting. The music vibrated in your ears and you were tempted to move to its rhythm, but you had to follow Daniel. After going through the whole room you reached your friend, the owner of the club. He told you that the drink for you was on the house and wished you a good time. Daniel announces that he is going to have a drink for both of you and leaves you alone among hundreds of strangers, driven by the same inner desire to get rid of inhibitions for a few hours that night.

The DJ moves everybody in ways no one has ever done before. Mixing the loud music on the turntables to the beat you desire to hear, the DJ watches the half-naked bodies of young men and women dancing around as if something has possessed their bodies. Men are wearing an undershirt, or no shirt at all, and pants. They eye the women who strut around in tank tops and tight dance pants or skirts, and who are smiling, and letting all their worries go away. A smile appeared on your face and look at the line at the bar for Daniel and you were pleasantly surprised to see that he was already looking at you. When you saw his smile you realized that the night will not end with you two still being just friends.

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#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfiction #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #ongoing

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kcatta-wodahs · 3 years

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Making Lore Out of the Angel Event

Im the definition of 'its not that deep but I'm going to dig a hole to make it that deep'

In this case its me making it that deep because otherwise this event is upsetting so I'm making some dark lore theories to make it make sense to me.

I'll have a lot of spoilers below. For the event and everything I know, which is up to like lesson 32 I think.

Basically, TLDR; this was an attack by Michael/their Father on Devildom. Simeon and Diavolo have successfully negated the threat by turning it into a game.

TLDR Thesis; The Celestial Realm is governed through careful mind control. The Demon Bros are not "avatars" because of being demons- they have been cursed by their Father to suffer as no other demon nor angel has to.

First we hear direct from Michael, and he's giving these bangles that appear to brainwash the main cast.

This was an attempt by their Father to bring them back under his control. By control, I mean this literally.

I've felt for a long time that the way the Celestial Realm seems to be run is... shady. It's a utopia to outside appearances only, and those who have been most deeply embroiled in the Great Celestial War know this.

The Great Celestial War was over free will, rather than the specifics of Lilith's situation. She was the catalyst for a long-time-coming revolt against the rulers of the Celestial Realm.

My logic for this:

The reason for Lilith's expulsion goes against the current action plan of the Celestial Realm. Peace between the realms? Sure, but their Father is bound to realize that you put angels, humans, and demons together you're going to end up with more angels like Lilith, who fall for other races. Why would he accept this truce if he lost his favored children over an issue that is very similar? Did he have a change of heart? Heavens no.

Luke's behaviour towards the demon's seems case-and-point. Luke is not the strange one out of the angelic transfer students- Simeon is. Not only that, Simeon is chosen not in an attempt to promote peace, but to protect Luke from being influenced. (Which is, again, the whole point\of the exchange program.)

That time we went to the Celestial Realm for real - Lucifer was worried. Scared, even. This can be explained by, you know, the War and Lilith.. but I wonder if it may be more sinister. Like perhaps being brainwashed.

Diavolo and Barbatos weren’t required to wear bangles to become less “demon-like” for the “party”. This is because the bangles were a ploy to get the brothers back.

My theory is that when an angel begins to show signs of rebellion or questioning the divine order, they are forcibly stopped. Michael is that enforcer, and these 'gifts' are a method of stopping them.

The bangles cause a person to act *perfectly angelic* against their free will. The people affected become all smiles and sunshine, so clearly nothing could be wrong with it, right? They’re happy, right?

No. Very not right, and we can see that through Satan.

Poor Satan is always the exception to the rule of the Brothers, as his circumstances are different from everyone else's.

In this case though, he's the one who provides insight on this mind control.

Let me remind you of the quotes Satan gives us during this time:

“I feel worked up.” “I don’t feel like myself at all.”

“It feels like something foreign is forcing my heart to be calm.” “Like my heart... becoming tranquil.”

Satan has never been an angel. He has never experienced this before. He has something the other brothers don’t: self-reflection. Satan can tell the difference between his feelings and feelings that are being imposed upon him. He tells you what he feels - “worked up” and “not like himself” and he is not smiling during this. He’s clearly unhappy, even though an angel might say he should feel unburdened by losing his anger.

He even mentions this.

“Normally, that wouldn’t seem like something bad, right?” “Something isn’t right.” “Maybe you shouldn’t come near me when I’m in this state.”

Satan is under the effects of the bangle, being forced to act angelic, but he can tell something “isn’t right.” He clearly shows that he thinks this is a “bad” thing, not because being calm is bad, but because it’s not “normal”. And can I remind you that he’s the Avatar of Wrath? The Sin that is most likely to be dangerous to be around - and yet it’s only when his anger is forcibly quelled that he thinks you should stay away from him. He knows that this is not something to desire. He knows that it is not happiness.

“I can’t concentrate on reading today.”

I mean, he’s obviously going through a lot, so that’s fair. But I have the theory that if he were to try and research this condition he wouldn’t be able to either. I have a theory about the Garden of Eden. My theory is about Paradise.

Remember when Eve ate the fruit? Do you know what that fruit was? Sin?

No. That fruit was knowledge.

Specifically, knowledge of good and evil. Now, why would this knowledge be something to keep from those under the control of the Celestial Realm? It sounds rather like they might be able to then make their own decisions of what is right and wrong.

Satan has known this from the beginning. Knowledge is power. The Ruler of the Celestial Realm, the other demons’ Father, knows this, too.

Why are there no other Avatars?

Sin was not something inherent to Devildom. Sin is a judgement sent from the Celestial Realm. There are no other Avatars because they are a wholly angelic creation. There are other posts that have examined the Sins as outlets, and how each of the brothers are attempting to find ways to allow themselves to express their sin so it does not overtake them.

From the get-go, we are shown that these Sins are a defining point for the brothers, but we’re also shown that they cause more trouble than anything else. Again, part-and-parcel of being a demon, right?

So why aren’t other demons like this?

Look at Diavolo and Barbatos, or even just the background demons who work across Devildom. Look at No. 2. They are all far more complex, and could even be considered normal. No. 2 is specifically meant to be based off of Mammon and his greed, but is much more rounded when we interact with it.

If Diavolo is meant to be the ruler of demonkind -- the paragon of what a demon should be -- then why would he not be the epitome of all of these Sins in one? What is Diavolo, instead?

Diavolo is accepting.

Hold up a moment here. What? Sorry y’all but it sounds to me like Mr. Demon Daddy King trusts his son enough to pass the kingdom on to him... so that must mean that Diavolo is behaving as a demon should.

Barbatos doesn’t question Diavolo’s choices. Nobody does. He’s an all around popular ruler. Devildom seems to be quite.. the opposite of what we’ve been trained to expect, huh? Trained by who exactly?

What are the Demon Brothers?

Cursed. They don’t act like other demons because they’re not like other demons. When they rebelled against their Father, they were punished for this act, but I posit that the punishment and the exile were two different acts. Their Father knew that leaving the Celestial Realm was not punishment to those who desired free will. So instead, he gave them Sin. Something that Demons are not normally bound to.

But how would the brothers know this? They only know what they’ve been taught by angels about demons. Surely these new, pressing desires come from turning into demons..?

So, why was this not taken seriously?

Short answer: it was. But in the way that aligns with Diavolo’s ultimate goals.

Diavolo wants peace.

Let’s Talk About Simeon

Simeon is an enigma and a half isn’t he?

Simeon is close with Michael, closer than Luke in any case. Now, I’ll be honest, I can’t remember if it was a fanfiction I read that said this or if it was canon so uh - forgive me. But Simeon was chosen to accompany Luke as an exchange student so that Luke would get some education. Simeon says this is to help relations, as Diavolo wants, but of course that’s what you would say as a sleeper agent?

Now, don’t get sad. Because we love Simeon here and we support him.

Simeon is wise and neutral. He seems to support the brothers, and even still wishes to foster a relationship with them. This could be seen as an attempt to bring them back, or some such, but I like to think that Simeon knows what’s wrong with the Celestial Realm.

Simeon, however, doesn’t think that a revolt can solve it. Simeon is working with Diavolo to create a form of peace - and has been transparent about the fact that Michael chose him to prevent Luke from being corrupted. I like to think he’s also been transparent with Diavolo about Michael’s actual goal.

Simeon believes that the races should co-exist and love freely. How could love be evil, after all? Whether or not this is a new concept to him (because of his falling for you) or if this is just who he is, I’ll leave up to you and your preferences, but since he is now no longer undateable, it is established that he does not believe love between angels and humans to be bad - as his Father did with Lilith.

What happened, then?

My theory is that Simeon told Diavolo that Michael had given him a task - to give these bangles to the brothers to remind them of the joy they were missing by disobeying the Divine Order. Either that, or to brainwash them into coming back home.

Simeon’s position would be revealed to Michael if he didn’t give the brothers the bangles, but he does not want to instigate another war either. So he told Diavolo Michael’s plan.

Diavolo wants peace, and he knows that with time, the brothers can overcome this mind control as they had in the past - especially with his help.

So thus comes the “party”.

An excuse to make the bangles seem like a “harmless” gift, that had only gone wrong because of strange magical interference, when really they had done exactly what they were supposed to.

And a wonderful way to maintain peace while leaving the Celestial Realm to stew in their own pots.

Simeon gets to maintain his facade for everyone - and put on a show for Michael as being loyal. He also gets to show Luke that perhaps being wholly angelic isn’t the way for some people, letting him learn a little more about peaceful coexistence. Nothing happens to ruin Diavolo’s grand plan for peace, and he gets to learn more about the curse that is set upon his friends - One that he hopes to be able to break someday, so they can live their lives unfettered by their Father.

#okay this has gone on long enough #i have other ideas about satan in this whole situation but this is my canon now okay #the celestial realm is shady af #Our group of friends are the ones trying to rebel against it #but also are the victims of what happens if you do #man i wish that they would go into deep lore and plot like this in the game #but its an otome so i can't really expect that #anyway this is how im going to treat the whole thing #obey me lore #lore #bast babbles #obey me event #angel event #obey me angel event #obey me #obey me shall we date #obswd #headcanons

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

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Perchance to Dream

@aspecarchivesweek Day Three: Drinks

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker, Sasha James

Jon comes out to Martin. Twice.

(Ft. Kiss-Averse Jonathan Sims and Hamlet References)

__________

“Ugh, no thank you.”

Martin pauses. Sasha and Tim titter behind their hands.

And Jon, well. He’s got a look of vehement disgust written across his features, not unlike when he’s laying into what he claims is a fabricated statement. Martin can feel his face turning red at the words.

Getting Jon to come out for drinks had been the hard part. It’s one month into his tenure as Head Archivist, and everyone’s starting to feel the scope of the task ahead of them. Tim thought a ‘monthiversary’ drink was in order, and the only way to get Jon to come out was to threaten him with some sort of ill begotten information, the likes of which Martin couldn’t hear behind the closed door. Ten minutes later, Jon emerged, looking grumpier than usual (and very dashing) with a scarf around his neck. And now he sat next to him in the cozy pub booth, Martin trying very hard to remain stock-still because Jon’s leaning into his side. Perhaps he’s cold? Either way, Martin isn’t going to discourage it.

But then he’d had a few drinks and they all loosened up; even Jon’s laugh came easier. And Martin- well, Martin’s opening up a bit more than usual, chattering about his time in the library and bolstered by the smiles he receives in turn. Tim changed track to the personal, regaling them with his latest outdoor adventure while Sasha and Jon gave witty, sarcastic commentary. But then Tim directed the conversation towards him, and they seemed relatively interested in his poetry. He even felt comfortable enough to rattle out a few lines from his phone in a desperate hope to impress, and he stupidly chose one that referenced ‘lips like a rosebud’ and Jon reacts like he’s read a particularly saucy bit of a smut novel aloud. How embarrassing.

“Whew,” Tim whistles lowly, folding his arms behind his neck with an exaggerated wince. “Harsh, boss.”

“No, that’s not it,” Jon says, shaking his head and putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand- “Martin, your poetry is fine, if a bit derivative.” Jon thinks his poetry is fine and he’s got his small, fine-boned hand on Martin’s arm and god, he’s got a poem about that too, somewhere in his phone-

Tim guffaws, slamming a hand on the table and startling Sasha. “What a compliment!”

“It’s just…kissing. Lips. Ugh.” Jon smashes his fork rather violently into a dumpling, sending bits of food flying across the table, one of which hit Tim directly above his eye. “I eat with my mouth.”

“Wise observation.”

“Very astute of you.”

Martin would join in on the banter but Jon’s hand is still on his arm and his warm weight is pressing into his side. Honestly, what’s Jon playing at? He could rip the poetry to shreds in front of him but as long as that hand remains on his arm he’d just sit there, not saying a word. Hell, he’d probably even agree.

“So the bossman doesn’t like kisses,” Tim says, taking an obnoxiously loud sip of whatever fruity beverage he’d decided on. “Is that why you ripped down all of my mistletoe back in research?”

Jon. Mistletoe. Hand still on arm.

“I don’t like any of it,” Jon says, removing his hand from Martin’s arm to make a decisive gesture across the table which nearly sent his drink flying. He instantly misses the pressure but the warmth is still there, burning through his sleeve. Jon looks incredibly drunk, now that Martin’s got a better angle to view his flushed cheeks and bright eyes and lips- “All that touching. I don’t understand why everyone’s so hung up on it. No thank you, not for me.”

A brief flash of understanding lights Sasha’s eyes but Martin’s not in a place to decipher it. He’s not sure if it’s the drink or the Jon-of-it-all that’s impeding him. He’s never seen him so relaxed, so animated about something that’s not work. He can’t even focus on the words coming out of Jon’s mouth at the moment.

But Sasha leans forward- once she’s got an idea in her head, she won’t let go until she’s seen it through. Martin recognizes that look. “You’re asexual, then?”

“Mm,” Jon mumbles, his head tilting back dangerously as he puts on an affected, exaggerated voice. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither.”

And then Martin’s gone, suddenly struck by a vision of teenage Jon, silhouetted on a stage by a dramatic spotlight, reciting Shakespeare like a born thespian- look, Martin despises theater, but even he’s not immune to Hamlet. In a dream world he’d be Ophelia, no, not Ophelia, idiot- maybe he’s a stage hand, or no, he helps Jon with his quick changes, that’s a job, right? So caught up is he in this pseudo-high school fantasy that the words being said don’t actually dawn on him until a full minute later, when Tim’s laughter reaches a crescendo.

“Boss, did you seriously just come out via Shakespeare?”

Jon’s not even denying it, giving a lazy, good-natured smile in response. Fuck. Here he is, having some stupid fantasy over his boss who is very much right next to him and very much not interested. God, is he taking advantage? He jumps to the side, trying desperately to put a few more inches of space between them for Jon’s comfort when that small hand comes back to his arm, the sudden and strong grip stopping him in his tracks.

“No!” Jon’s voice is low, those dark eyes so intense. Martin can feel his face go scarlet from his gaze alone. “This is nice. I like it.”

Tim and Sasha share an evil little smile and Martin’s out of commission, the night’s revelations and Jon’s insistent snuggling having taken their toll. He couldn’t tell you what happened after that, how many drinks were shared or how he got home. All he remembers is the feel of Jon’s hand on his arm, his insistent closeness, and the sound of his laugh whenever Tim teased him.

The next day Jon comes in late, looking about as bad as the rest of them felt. From the way he interacts with them, it’s likely that he doesn’t even remember last night, what he did or what he said. Martin tries not to let it sting, and goes back to work, knowing there’s a side of Jon that he’ll likely never see again.

__________

“Martin, we have to...talk, if that’s alright.”

Martin pauses, a lump building in his throat. “Okay.”

He settles in on Daisy’s lumpy couch, trying not to let his apprehension show. It’s been a week since Jon got him out of the Lonely and they’re still adjusting, but Martin likes to think they’re settling into a nice routine. There’s such a natural ease to their domesticity; they had their differences, sure, but he’s never seen the man so soft and unguarded, puttering around the cottage, making sure everything’s nice and comfortable for the two of them. And of course, there’s the bed situation. Only one, like in all the cliché fanfiction Martin had taken to reading back when he lived in the Archives and his biggest problem was worms. Maybe Jon doesn’t want to share anymore? He’s been strangely distant the past day, keeping space between them and hovering about in a nervous manner. He goes back through their interactions, trying to think of what he could’ve done wrong.

Jon sits down next to him, his face showing his own apprehension. “I know we’ve been getting...close, this past week. But if we’re going to ah, have an, er- well, you know, relationship- there’s some things you need to know.” Relationship. Jon thinks they're in a relationship. Martin didn’t want to put a label to it, too afraid it would shatter the fragile trust they built. But to be in a relationship with Jon, well, that’s something he’s always dreamed of, right?

So he relaxes minutely, tries not to show the utter joy he feels at the words. “Alright. What’s up?”

Jon takes a steadying breath, looking so oddly grave that Martin immediately wants to take him into his arms. “I don’t...well, I’m asexual. So I’m not really interested…” he makes a vague gesture down towards Martin’s crotch and then freezes, clearly embarrassed by the crudeness of the action. “I’m not interested in all of...that. Or kissing, for that matter. It’s just a personal boundary for me, if that’s alright.”

Oh. Martin blinks, taking in Jon’s serious countenance and hopeful eyes and while he wants to match it, he can’t control the laughter that bubbles out of his throat. “Oh-oh Jon-”

Jon immediately blanches, his brow furrowing in confusion and probably hurt. “W-What? What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck-it’s, it’s not that, that’s fine, it’s just-” Martin tries desperately to keep his laughter under control and fails. Christ, he can’t breathe. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither!”

“Why are you quoting Shakespeare?” Jon’s looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Perhaps he has.

“Because you did, you daft thing!” Martin’s shoulders shake with the effort of containing himself, and he wipes a tear from his eye. He immediately puts a hand on Jon’s arm, a mirror’s reflection of that night at the bar and yet it’s still his hand that burns. “Jon, it’s fine. I already know. You told us over drinks my first month in the Archives.”

Jon’s face takes on that peculiar look of confusion and concentration that Martin loves, as if he’s searching his mind or maybe even the Eye for information. “I-oh. Oh!” He puts his head in his hands with a groan, ignoring Martin’s comforting pats to the back. “How embarrassing.”

“It was adorable.”

“No it wasn’t,” Jon whines into his hands even as he leans into Martin’s touch.

“It was,” Martin assures him, drawing him close to his side and letting him lean his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I laughed- you were just so serious, I couldn’t help it-”

“Yes, well,” Jon sighed, settling into his arms, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “It’s fine. As long you’re alright with…”

“More than alright.” It’s Jon, of course it’s alright. Being here with him, in their little shabby oasis- well, it’s more than enough. They sit there in silence for some time, Martin enjoying the closeness of the man he’d fought so hard to protect finally in his arms. He’s starting to think they just might be alright. He smiles to himself, perching his chin on top of Jon’s head.

“To be or not to be-”

“Shut up, Martin.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741983

#my writing #aspecarchives #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #asexual jonathan sims #cw drinking #gratuitous use of hamlet #the gay agenda

346 notes · View notes

seoloquent · 3 years

Text

project: dance, dance, revolution

summary - you hate that ai robots are beginning to take over the entertainment industry, but you have no choice than to help them. but what if it all didn't turn out to be what you thought it was?

pairing - johnny and fem!reader

genre - strangers-to-lovers!au, robot!au, comedy, fluff

word count - 10.101

warnings - cw! food, there might be some grammatical errors... i'm depending on grammarly on this one

author's note - this is for @pastelsicheng's ai project #14320 collab! this was honestly such a challenge for me since i have been in a writing slump for over two years i believe, but i'm glad it gave me the push i need. i am still super rusty, but i think the dialogue is cute, so i'm happy with it! thank you so much emmy for sharing your great idea with everyone, and i hope you all like it!

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

Johnny AI AU - seoloquent

Kun was terrified.

Despite experiencing your various emotions throughout the five years of being your manager, he has never seen you this angry before. But, honestly speaking, he couldn’t blame you. He’d be just as mad if he found out his boss went behind his back and signed a contract with a company he hated. As much as he could sympathize with you though, Kun just couldn’t get himself to understand why you were so upset about working with LSM Incorporated. If he were in your shoes, he’d be doing backflips off the wall! The amount of exposure, and revenue you are potentially going to be receiving… Kun just does not understand what the problem is.

Although your strides were long and strong, Kun was able to keep up with you while making sure he kept his distance, as if a dark cloud followed behind you. As cautious as he was to not have you blow up at him, he still tried to convince you to not make a scene within the conference room by his desperate protests; in which you kindly ignored. Every single word that left his mouth went through one ear and straight out the other as you paid him no mind. You were in a tunnel vision; the only person you wanted to talk to right now was your boss.

Pushing the door open with much force (that Kun had to catch before it slammed onto the wall behind it), you caught the attention of the CEO of your company, as well as Lee Soo Man of LSM Inc. They flashed pleasant smiles your way, completely oblivious of your angry state.

“Y/N, just the person we wanted to se-”

“Are you serious?!” You slammed the contract papers down on the table, your eyes wide and fierce as they stared into your boss’s eyes.

Your emotions were still fresh from when you first received the signed contract papers from Kun about an hour prior. The feelings of betrayal and violation lingered within you, and the uneasiness it caused made you sick. How could someone lack so much human decency that they justified going behind their employee’s back, an employee that has their trust in them at that, and force them into labor; which they have already voiced that they did not want to do? It baffled you, and you were hurt, as you believed that you and your CEO had a great business relationship. But he took that open communication for granted and took advantage of you.

After realizing that you stormed in with anger rather than excitement, he pursed his lips and looked down at the papers, chuckling to himself. “Oh. So you’re still opposed to the idea.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Of course I am!” Your voice rose as your eyes grew bigger. “You never talked to me about it again after the first time; what made you think that I changed my mind?”

“Y/N, I have to get you to notice that you are not the only one signed to this company. This will not only be good exposure for you, but for us as well.” He justified. He kept his voice calm, not only to calm you down but also to keep a professional demeanor in front of his newly established business partner.

“Oh, so you’re doing this for yourself?”

“Of course not! This is for the benefit of not only you, not only me, but for the company as a whole.” Your CEO reasoned. Before you could respond, he cleared his throat and turned to Lee Soo Man. “I’m sorry, but will you excuse us for a moment? I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation in front of you as our partner.”

Normally, you would be embarrassed that you presented this side of yourself in front of a potential partner, but embarrassed in front of Lee Soo Man? You care more about a monkey’s opinion about yourself more than his opinion. Besides, it doesn’t seem like he’s phased by your reaction at all. Strangely enough, when you turned toward the founder of LSM Inc., you realized that his arrogant smile had never left his face since the moment you stormed into the conference room. It gave you chills. He seems so artificial that you wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to be a robot himself.

After Lee Soo Man gave his, “No problem,” your boss stood up from his seat and escorted you both outside the conference room. The moment the door closed, your boss’s true emotion started to show. His eyes grew wide and his fingers grabbed onto his freshly trimmed strands as he breathed out a heavy breath of frustration. Equally as frustrated, if not more, you crossed your arms and made sure your gaze was unwavering; something you needed to learn after being manipulated many times from past experiences with people who work within the entertainment industry. You stepped your metaphoric foot down. Even if your boss had signed a contract without your acknowledgment, you were not going to do the job. That’s not your signature on the papers.

“Are you crazy Y/N?!” He yelled in a hushed tone, careful to not have anyone overhear your conversation. “How could you act like that in front of him?”

“Do I not have a right to be angry? You sold me away to a robot company Jack, a robot company!” You slapped the back of your hand on your other palm, now physically unable to withhold your emotions.

“I didn’t sell you away, you’re getting paid to do this job.” He spat. Now self-aware of how uncivil and unprofessional he was being, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to ease his nerves. You are going to get nowhere if you bickered like this, and if you keep it up, he knows he is going to say something he regrets.

Now keeping his tone soft, he revealed, “I chose you because you’re the best for this job.”

“Aren’t there other artists under this label who could do this? I’m sure they’re more willing to work with LSM than I am.” You matched his tone, hoping that this time you could get through to him.

“Those other artists can’t produce the same product as you can.” Jack shook his head disapprovingly. “Listen Y/N, I don’t want to waste any more of Mr. Lee’s time, so I’m going to make this short. I apologize in advance if you find any offense in this, but business is business.” You stared intently into his eyes, in hopes to understand where he was going with his next sentence, but his expression could not be read.

“If you can’t do this job, then I’m afraid that I’ll have to drop you from this label.”

You never knew what people meant by having their hearts drop down to their stomachs until now. You felt as if the wind was knocked out of you, your breath short and shaky and your knees weak. All these years… all this work you put in to make a name not only for yourself but for this company… it baffled you that all that effort could be thrown away so easily, just because of some AI company.

As much as you wanted to keep standing up for yourself and your role in the company, you knew there was no use. Your boss didn’t seem to give you a choice either, seeing that he walked back into the conference room shortly after his bombshell. The only thing you could find yourself doing is laughing bitterly to yourself while shaking your head. What in the world are you going to do now?

***

Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to go to a bar when you’re in a bad mood. The constant noise of chatter and the clinking of glasses did not soothe your nerves one bit. Rather, it made you even more annoyed, and on the brink of yelling out at everyone to just be quiet. Instead of making a fool of yourself in public though, you sat with your head under your arms, forehead resting on the cool surface of the bar. Kun, your designated moral support, sat next to you, tapping his glass of whiskey as he thought of what to say to you.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

That simple yet oh so effective sentence had you throwing your head back and releasing a loud groan. Your reaction had your manager shrugging, his face reading, ‘What did I do?’ You rested your cheeks on the palms of your hands as you thought: ‘What can I do?’

Gazing off into a space of nothing, you replied: “I dunno.” You shook your head, your hands still on either side of your face as you deadpanned. “I have no idea what I’m gonna do.” After a moment, something clicked in your head, and you set your arms down and turned to Kun. “Do you want to bail on them and start a company with me?”

He snorted at the inquiry. “You know we can’t do that! At least not right now. It’s way too last minute.”

You looked down at your arms with a sad expression and sighed. “You’re right.” Not only would it be an impulsive decision, but you had no motivation in you to own a whole entertainment company. “What am I gonna do?!” You cried out, your hands covering your face to hide your shame.

“Hey, hey, hey! Stop the whining!” Kun took your hands away from your face, revealing the pout on your face. “Everything is going to be fine! I’m sure of it.”

Kun, a big pep-talk kind of man, was always ready to reassure you when you were in doubt. And boy was he good at it. You still remember when you were growing anxious before your first big concert at an arena. The staff ran around the whole place frantically trying to find where you ran off to. Thankfully, your trustee manager was able to find your hiding spot, which was beside a vending machine in an empty hallway. His comforting words found a way to ease your speedy heart rate, and clear up your clogged mind. After that day, you knew you could always go to him when you were feeling down or unsure of yourself. He’s a friend you could always lean on.

“How are you so sure?” You asked, your voice so small that he almost missed the question.

“Think about it,” he set his glass to the side and folded his hands together, “this contract is only valid for six months. It’s not like you’re going to be working there forever.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I know that; but still! I don’t want to do it at all!”

“You never know what will happen until you try though! You might end up liking it.” He nudged your elbow as he flashed a convincing smile.

“Me? Liking it?” You scoffed. “Kun, do you even know me?”

He pursed his lips and sighed. This situation was foreign to him since he always knew what to say. But now, it seemed like everything he was saying was making the situation worse. He wanted nothing more than for you to feel comfortable, but that mission is basically impossible knowing how much you oppose the AI industry. But still, Kun is a persistent man. He wasn’t going to back down just yet.

Finally, something clicked.

“Actually, your idea doesn’t sound half bad.” You cocked a curious eyebrow, surprised that he brought up something you spurted out carelessly. “Think about it: you’re still your own person. Even though you’re technically bound by a contract doesn’t mean that you can’t make a decision on your own. He did give you the choice to leave.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “So you’re saying that I should just leave the company?”

He shook his head. “No. What I’m doing is offering a deal. I want you to try to work with LSM for at least three months. If you try it, you might like it! If not, I will quit with you, and we can try to start a company on our own; which I know we both don’t want. But hey, that might be fun too.”

You thought about the proposal for a moment. It wasn’t too much of a bad idea. It was actually quite reasonable. Yeah, you aren’t looking forward to being surrounded by robots and their arrogant creators, but you guess that it’s worth a try. Just for the experience at least.

“I think we have a deal.” You held your hand out.

He took your hand in his and gave it a firm shake.

“Pleasure doing business with you, partner.”

***

You shivered upon entering the entertainment wing of LSM Inc. You were told that the lab would be a bit chilly, which is why you brought a jacket with you, but the cool air still found a way to nip at your skin through the material. You have to say, the lab was not what you expected it to be. Rather than it being some cold, plain science lab, it was made out to be much more casual. Your eyes settled on what looked like a lounge area for the employees, and you watched carefully as they conversed with one another with soft smiles on their faces. Scanning the place even further, you came across capsule areas, in which you assume where the AI robots stayed. As cool as the dome building seemed, you still couldn’t shake off the grudge you had against the company.

“Oh, you’re here!” A man holding a clipboard exclaimed. He ran over to you and Kun, flashing a bright smile. “Mr. Lee told me that we were to be expecting you both. I was hoping to greet you at the main lobby entrance, but I got caught up in another situation, so I apologize. My name is Kim Doyoung, I’ll be your guide for the day.” He politely held his hand out, and you shook it while replying with a small, “Hello.”

“We’re pleased to have you here with us Ms. Y/N. Please, follow me.” He motioned both of you to follow him. “I must say, I’m a huge fan of your music. I’m really happy that you decided to work with us for the next comeback.”

“Oh. Don’t mention it.” You shook your head while smiling slightly.

As Doyoung lead you to wherever he was leading you, he pointed out different areas to help you grow familiar with the lab. You learned that they have many recording and dance studios like regular companies do. You couldn’t help but wonder why, since they could just be programmed to sing the songs, but you didn’t bother to ask.

Finally, Doyoung stopped at a station, but his bright expression was replaced by a puzzled one. He looked around as if he were looking for someone. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but stare at what stood before you. The tall human-like… thing, stared right back at you with a neutral expression. It gave you chills how real he seemed; like he could walk past you on the street and you wouldn’t bat an eye. Despite how anxious it made you feel, your curiosity outweighed that emotion, and you inched closer to get a better look.

Your tour guide caught you eyeing the bot, and that smile found its way back onto his face. He heard that you might be a bit opposed to working with the AI’s, so he was glad to find you expressing some sort of interest in their prized possession.

“He’s so human-” As if in a trance, you reached out a hand to touch the robot, but it suddenly stepped back just before you got to it.

“I’m sorry, but physical touch is not allowed unless permitted.” The robot announced before flashing a commercial smile.

Doyoung’s chuckled beside you. “For the safety of our bots, we have prohibited anyone from touching them.” He leaned in to add, “Too many fans at fansigns got touchy-feely.” He shook his head disapprovingly.

“Eager to get a feel of my bot already?” You heard a voice from behind you.

When you turned around, you felt as though you got whiplash. The man standing behind you looked identical to the robot standing before you. The only difference was that the robot had blonde short hair and was styled in fancy clothing whilst the man had long brown hair and didn’t seem to care much about what he had on. He had his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, a sly smirk plastered on his face.

“You’re late.” Doyoung deadpanned.

“I’m not late, I was taking a nap in the Pod, and nobody cared enough to wake me up!” The mystery man shrugged.

Finally, you snapped back into reality, but you still had to verify that what you were seeing was real. When you finally accepted what was going on, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“How cute.” You snickered to yourself.

A puzzled expression masked the mystery man’s face. “What’s cute?”

“What is this? The Man and the Muppet?” Your comment had Kun nudging your arm and shooting you a warning look to which you responded with an apologetic gaze.

Not giving the mystery man any time to respond (merely because he does not have the patience), Doyoung spoke up. “This is Suh Youngho, he’s the head AI Developer of our department. He’s the creator of #S127.” Youngho put his hands behind his back and bowed as his greeting.

“I’m guessing his name is Youngho as well?” You pointed to the robot, still standing expressionless.

“He wishes, but no, we call him Johnny!” Youngho swung an arm over his identical twin of a robot, smiling brightly. “After a long and hard fight for it, he will be releasing his first solo album this year.” He wiped a fake tear from under his eye. “Johnny here is my firstborn, so this is going to be really special.”

“And you’re going to help us make it very special!” Doyoung cheered.

“Actually, speaking of that, what exactly am I supposed to be doing? Wouldn’t it just be easier for me to give you guys a demo and you program him to sing it or something?” You asked.

Doyoung was quick to answer. “That would defeat the purpose of AI robots actually! The thing is, they’re supposed to learn to adapt to certain environments, like we do! So they learn how to sing songs and how to dance complex choreography just like we do.”

This time, Kun was the one to ask a question. “Aren’t you guys just putting more work upon yourself?”

“Yes, and no,” Youngho started, “It’s like a domino effect. The more work we give our bots means more research that needs to be done. The more research that is done, means there’s more data we get. The more data we get means a more refined bot, and then it loops.” Kun opened his mouth in an ‘ah’ shape and nodded his head after the explanation. “Hopefully we can get this bad boy to the point where we don’t have to do any more research and he can be a successful artist on his own.”

Even though this was all very interesting, you still couldn’t help but still be opposed to the thought of helping a robot making it in the entertainment industry. You caught a glimpse of the future as you fell into a daydream: AI’s getting a full sweep in wins at big music award shows, discrediting those who actually put their heart and soul into their work. Robots don’t have a heart, nor do they have a soul. Even if they do seem to “work hard,” they will never be on the same level as a human artist. It just won’t be fair, but what even is fair these days?

“So, to answer your question, we need Johnny to learn what it’s like to be a true singer-slash-songwriter. And to achieve that, he’ll be staying with you for the duration of the six months before his solo debut.” Doyoung’s words snapped you out of your daydream and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

“Oh, so this is going to be like ‘Take your robot to work day’ or something? But just for six months instead?” You questioned.

Doyoung looked up as he thought, nodding and shrugging seconds afterward. “Well, yes, but we were hoping that Johnny could get the full package. We planned for him to stay with you 24/7 so that he could really get a feel of your creative process.”

You did a double-take, eyes wide and mouth agape showcasing your shock.

“E-Excuse me? You mean to say that he will be… living with me?” You spoke low and slow, scared of the obvious answer.

You didn’t see anything about this in the contract papers; not that you read it anyway since you weren’t the one who signed them; but still! You could feel your heart race as you thought of him living in your apartment, those brown soulless eyes studying every move you made. The vision made you shudder.

“Affirmative.” Youngho nodded firmly.

Your heart wanted to burst out of your chest. “I’m sorry, but can you guys excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with my manager in private.” You said just before taking Kun’s hand and dragging him somewhere where the two scientists wouldn’t be able to hear your conversation.

“I’m living with the robot?!” You whisper yelled, careful to not have anyone nearby hear your anguish.

“In my defense, I had no idea about this.” Kun shook his head with his hands up.

You paced back and forth as you panicked. You lifted your hands, but not knowing what to do with them, you just clenched them into a fist. It seemed like your life was spiraling out of your control. Nothing is going your way, and it is driving you insane. You need to get your life back in order fast. If not, who knows what will happen?

“I swear, if he wasn’t the one paying me, I would kill Jack right now.” You grumbled.

“Hey, it’s not like Johnny is a real guy. I doubt he would try to do anything to hurt you.” Kun tried his best to reassure you, but it was not doing much to help.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know what those guys are capable of!” You pointed toward Doyoung and Youngho. “That Doyoung guy is nice, but I don’t know if I can trust him. And Youngho seems like he’s gonna be a handful.” You stared at the said man as he and Doyoung bickered, probably about him being late again.

Kun turned his head to see the two men bickering, and the only thing he could do was chuckle. “I think they should be the least of your worries.” His comment made you sigh deeply. “You’ll be fine, I promise you!” He put his hands on your arms to steady you, but you avoided his gaze as you stared down at your feet with a pout on your face. “You know I’m always on speed dial if you need me.”

You nodded your head, still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey,” his call made your eyes meet his. “If all goes wrong, we can always dump a bucket of water over ‘em.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “Yeah, and then we’ll get sued and possibly go to jail.”

Kun smacked his lips and said, “Eh, I’m sure they’ll be able to fix the guy. A little water can’t do that much damage.” He stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. After a small moment of silence, he kicked your shoe gently. “So what do you say? You’re still gonna do it, or no?”

A groan erupted from your chest, and you brought your hands down your face out of frustration. You really don’t want to do this, but a deal is a deal.

“Three months. I’m giving three months.”

“That’s my girl!”

***

You found yourself pacing around your apartment in the early morning. It has been about a week since you first spoke with LSM Inc. From this day forward for the next six months (or three months you hoped), Johnny would be shadowing you at all times. You were a nervous wreck since you didn’t know what to expect from living with a robot. What if he suddenly malfunctioned and they blamed it on you? You can’t handle this type of responsibility. Or what if he malfunctioned and started acting violently toward you?

“Snap out of it!” You whisper yelled at yourself, hitting your temple with your knuckles. You always tend to scare yourself when you’re nervous. Everyone you have spoken to about this matter has told you that you had nothing to worry about, so you made it your goal to not worry. But why is it so hard?

DING!

You swore your heart jumped out of your chest when your doorbell suddenly sounded throughout your home. As much as you wanted your heart rate to calm down, it only began to race faster the closer you got to your door. When your hand touched the gold knob, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, then you finally opened the door.

Two identical men stood before you, flashing the same bright smile.

“Good morning to you!” Youngho greeted you cheerfully, to which you replied with a dazed “Morning,” before allowing them inside.

You eyed the two men as they entered your living room, confused as to why they were the only ones here. “Where is Mr. Kim?”

Youngho cocked an eyebrow before turning around to face you. “Who?”

“Your coworker. Doyoung, I believe his name is?” You answered.

“Oh!” He let out a hearty laugh. “You don’t have to call him that, it makes him sound old. And I’m older than him, so that kind of hurts my feelings.” He joked, but the only thing you could find yourself doing was nodding your head and looking away.

Sensing your discomfort, he cleared his throat before answering your question. “He’s busy back at the lab. I’m here to make sure John is all set before I leave him in your care.” You winced at his words. It only added to the overwhelming weight on your shoulders.

“Why do you ask? Did you grow fond of him already?” He slung his backpack from around his shoulder onto the floor. You peeked inside when he zipped it open, finding wires bunched inside.

“Uh, no, I wouldn’t say that.” You let out a nervous laugh. “I just find it a bit overwhelming with only you two here.”

A smirk grew on his face. “So, you’re overwhelmed by my great looks huh?” He flipped his hair and shrugged as if it was inevitable to be starstruck by him.

“I look exactly like you,” Johnny spoke for the first time since entering your home.

You had to hold back a laugh at the sudden comment, and Youngho’s reaction didn’t make it any easier.

“So? You’re inspired by me, so therefore I take the credit of our looks!” He stuck his nose up in Johnny’s face. When the scientist turned back toward you, he realized you were holding back a laugh as your pursed your lips and looked away. “What? You find this funny?”

You put your hand up and shook your head. “No, no.”

Youngho was happy to find you in a better mood than when you first met. Sure, you’re still on the shy side, but at least you’re laughing instead of frowning like the first time. He heard that you weren’t exactly on board with working with LSM, so he made it his goal to have this be an enjoyable experience for you. He hopes that one day your negative opinions about AI’s would change. They’re as special to him as music is to you.

“I need to set up Johnny’s things. Is it okay if you tell me where he’s allowed to sleep?” Youngho asked.

You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled expression finding its way on your face. “He sleeps?”

“Yeah!” Youngho nodded simply. “It’s like setting your computer on sleep mode. Machines need rest as much as we do. Johnny here is a hardworking man, he deserves to sleep.”

You supposed he was right. He might break easier if his gears were running constantly. Plus, he was made to function as a human, but you didn’t know that it was to this extent. To say the least, you were impressed at the attention to detail.

You motioned the two to your guest bedroom, and immediately Youngho got to work. Johnny stood next to you as the both of you spectated Youngho’s work, but you were shortly distracted by the robot.

You peered up at the tall machine with a curious gaze, and he turned to you with a kind smile.

“So, I’m not sure if this is an inappropriate question or not, but I’m curious.” Johnny nodded for you to go on. “Should I, like… talk to you like Siri? Or can I talk to you like a normal person?”

You were startled to hear Youngho’s loud snort in the corner of the room, but instead of him being the one to answer, Johnny did.

“You can talk to me like a normal person, don’t worry.” Johnny shook his head. “If it makes you comfortable, you can view me as a human if you’d like. I’m not that much different than you actually. We’re just wired differently.”

“Hey,” Youngho’s stern voice caught both of your attention. “Be proud of who you are, whether you are a human or robot. We’ve been through this John.”

Johnny nodded. “Right, right. My apologies.”

Youngho hated it when Johnny tried to tell others to view him as a human. Not because he believed that Johnny was trying to fool people, but because being a robot is his identity, and he should be proud of that. Sure, it’s not likely that Johnny could feel the feeling of pride, but Youngho could tell that Johnny was insecure. It worried him, but he didn’t want to tap into his database to change anything since he wants Johnny to be as authentic as possible. So for now, Youngho is keeping track of Johnny’s growth as an AI person.

Soon, Youngho was finished with setting up Johnny’s station. In the corner of the guestroom stood a white podium with a screen built in the middle of it. He let out a deep breath of satisfaction as he stepped back and dusted his hands off.

Before you could ask what it was, Youngho was already answering your unspoken question. “This is Johnny’s Communication Center. Every night he’ll have to transfer data from his system so that we’ll know what he’s been up to and see if he’s made any improvements. That’s if he’s not with me at the lab.” Suddenly, his face grew serious. “For legal reasons, I have to let you know that this station is strictly off-limits. There’s confidential information in here that belongs to LSM Inc.”

Even though you were curious, the last thing you wanted to do was get involved with the law, so you took note of his warning. Hopefully, it isn’t something regarding the invasion of privacy.

You shook your head before you could scare yourself even further. Positive thoughts. Think positive thoughts.

“Alright, on that note, I think my work here is done!” Youngho announced. “Can I talk with you in private?” He asked suddenly, pointing a finger at you.

“Me?” You had to double-check whether he was really talking to you or not. He chuckled as he nodded his head, confirming your wonders. “Oh, okay.”

You followed the man out of the room, leaving Johnny to check out the place he’ll be living in for the next few months.

After the two of you reached your living room, Youngho began to speak. “Hey, so, I really want to thank you for working with us on this project. I heard that you’re not the biggest fan of AI’s, so I was surprised to hear you signed the contract.”

You held back from rolling your eyes as the memories of your boss came up. “It’s not like I really had a choice.” You smiled softly and shook your head.

He tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

You tensed up when you realized what you just said. As much as you did not want to do this job, you made it your goal to remain as professional as possible for the sake of your reputation. After working in the entertainment industry for some years, you learned to keep your personal feelings apart from your job. If- no, when you do end up quitting the job after three months, at least LSM won’t be able to say anything negative about you.

Refraining from explaining yourself, you shook your head once more. “Nevermind what I said. Johnny will be safe in my care!”

Youngho pouted, his eyes scanning your face. He wanted you to elaborate, but he had no time to talk further. He needed to get back to the lab.

“Well, I hope so. Call me if you need anything. I need to get going.”

Nodding, you waved goodbye to him before seeing him off. Your feet ended up taking you back to your guest bedroom, where you found Johnny sitting at the end of the bed, staring at the wall in front of him. You caught his attention after you cleared your throat, and instead of staring at you with that lifeless gaze, he smiled brightly.

You mustered up the courage to walk up to him, still stopping some feet away though. Crossing your arms, you tried to think of what to say. While you thought, he examined your face, trying his best to read your expression so he to could come up with something to talk about. The silence was awkward for you, but Johnny never sensed the discomfort. He was happy to be here with you. You are the gold coin on his road to success, so he decided to cherish you.

“So… it’s quite early and I usually don’t head to the studio until the evening. Is there anything you wanted to do?” You asked.

“There isn’t anything I can think of…” he shrugged his shoulders.

Suddenly, your stomach grumbled and your hand covered it as a reflex. You were so nervous this morning that you didn’t have much of an appetite, but hunger was catching up to you now.

“I didn’t have breakfast yet.” You laughed nervously. “Are you… able to eat anything?” You felt weird asking such a question since he’s a robot after all, but who knows what he can and cannot do? Technology is so advanced these days. Besides, isn’t he made to live like a human anyway?

In all truthfulness though, Johnny isn’t allowed to eat-- sometimes. In special cases, he can nibble on a snack, but eating a full course meal was a no-go. But Johnny was aware of your discomfort of being with him, and he was determined to make you feel the opposite. As long as he doesn’t clog his gears, taking the risk should be okay.

“I know of this breakfast house Youngho likes to go to every now and then. Do you want to go there?”

Your face lit up at the suggestion. You were more excited at the thought of being around others rather than eating. Being in the house alone with Johnny was really starting to suffocate you, and you needed out immediately. Maybe some fresh air and being surrounded by humans will make you feel somewhat better.

The two of you were quick to leave the apartment after you accepted the offer. Johnny led the way to the restaurant, and on your way, he let you know that it was not far from your home. Come to find out, it was within walking distance. You wondered how you never noticed the humble breakfast house, but after thinking about it for a while, you realized that you are always on the go. Ever since you moved to your apartment, you never took the time to stop and get to know your surroundings.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny’s question snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh… nothing, just thinking.” Finally, you noticed that you were standing in front of the restaurant. “Let’s head inside.”

Surprisingly, Johnny was easy to talk to. Even though he had somewhat awkward responses to your questions, it was never boring or dry. You got to know about his life in the lab, and even how Youngho decided to grow his hair out because people mistook him for Johnny so many times. His story was so interesting, and it kept you on your toes, itching to hear more. It was beyond what you could ever imagine.

“So what is your goal?” You suddenly asked.

He tilted his head in curiosity. “Can you elaborate for me please?”

“You know, like what’s your goal as a singer? Or even just as a living being?”

He sat back in his seat as he pondered on the simple, yet deep question. It’s something he’s never had time to think about. Actually, it’s something he never considered thinking about. Ever since he was first powered up, he has always been working. But working towards what, is the question he began to ask himself.

“I… honestly don’t know.” He shook his head after moments of thinking.

“Really?” Your eyes grew wide at his response. “If that’s the case, then why do you expect to learn how to write music? You need to have some desire or passion to do so.”

He crossed his arm over his chest and rested his chin on his other hand. “I guess you’re right… But how do I find out what my goal is?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “What are you living for? What’s your purpose? You have to ask yourself these types of questions.”

It worried Johnny that he didn’t have a passion despite calling himself a music artist. But he knew he needed to figure it out fast because he really does want to be successful in this field. But is there anything really to work for being the person he is?

***

The next day, you were back at the lab for Johnny’s first checkup. The first night at the studio was not a success, which wasn’t surprising considering that he had nothing to write about. This was exactly what you were afraid of. No matter how busy he might be, he hasn’t gotten the real human experience, so what really can he write about? Hard drives and wires?

“Hey Babysitter!” Youngho greeted you cheerfully after spotting you and Johnny some feet away.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Babysitter?”

“Yeah, you are taking care of my kid after all.” He laughed, ruffling Johnny’s hair, to which Johnny slapped his hand away. “How was the first day?”

You sighed deeply, thinking about yesterday’s events. “It went okay, but we made no progress in the studio.”

Youngho smacked his lips. “Well, that’s alright. We still have six months ahead of us. There’s still time left.”

“That’s true.” You nodded your head. “But on the bright side, Johnny treated me to the best breakfast I had in a while! So brownie points for that.”

Your words came out too fast for Johnny to stop you. He froze, his hand slapping his mouth in shock. He is dead meat.

“He didn’t eat with you, did he?” Youngho blinked at you. Sensing the tension in the air, you nodded slowly, but kept your mouth shut. “Oh my-” Youngho stepped back as if he was about to faint.

He clenched his fist against his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. You felt like you did something wrong, but you just couldn’t figure out what. You were sure Johnny would tell you if you did.

“Johnny, just head to the back, okay?” Youngho said, his eyes still closed.

“Yes sir.” Johnny rushed away without another word.

“Did I do something wrong...?” You asked shyly.

“No you didn’t, don’t worry.” Youngho sighed. “He knows better. If he eats too much he could clog his gears. But mostly, I just hate cleaning him out, it’s so tedious!” He groaned at the thought of all the clumps of food he has to take out.

“Oh my gosh! I wouldn’t have let him if I have known!” You exclaimed.

Youngho shook his head. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. He seems to be functioning well, so he should be fine.”

You were worried at the thought of Johnny breaking while under your supervision. Imagine getting sued by a company that handles AI’s? Your life would be over! You can’t let that happen, you won’t allow it to happen.

“Is there any way for me to know if he’s okay or not? Like does he feel pain or no?” You asked. You needed to know just in case you had to rush back to the lab if anything happens. You’re not going to be the blame for anything.

“Yes, and no.” Youngho went on to explain. “He can feel you if you tap him on the shoulder, but if you punch him, it’ll still feel like a mere tap. But the only time he does feel pain is when something in his system malfunctions.” You tilted your head, still not catching on. He found your expression cute, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. “Just think about it: when you’re using your phone, it can feel your taps as you scroll. But if you drop it on the ground, you don’t hear it screaming out in pain.”

“Ah, I think I get it now!” You nodded your head fervently.

“Right! But we did program him to feel some type of pain just so we will know if something wrong is happening to the important parts.”

“That makes a lot of sense… Man, you guys really have it all laid out huh?” You couldn’t help but be impressed at the amount of thought that went into creating Johnny.

“Yeah, well, it’s nothing much.” Johnny shoved his hands in his pockets as he shrugged nonchalantly. As laid back as he was acting, nothing could hide the blush that crept onto his face. He’s a sucker for people acknowledging his work.

“Well, as much as I want to argue with you about that, I have to get to my schedule! Kun is waiting for me outside and I can’t keep him waiting. I’ll be back soon!” You waved as you began to walk away.

Youngho waved back to you as he watched you exit the lab. He sighed to himself, not knowing what he was going to do with Johnny. But knowing that it is best to get the job done now rather than later, Youngho dragged his feet to the operation room where Johnny would be waiting.

Johnny tensed up once Youngho entered the room, and he avoided eye contact in hopes he wouldn’t blow up at him. Thankfully, Youngho didn’t have the energy to yell.

“Why did you do that?” The scientist asked simply.

“She was uncomfortable and hungry, so it was the only thing I could think of.” Johnny justified his past actions, but Youngho wasn’t having any of it.

“Let’s just get this over with, and then we’ll check your data.” Youngho sighed as he started to prep for the cleanup.

“Wait, wait! I have a question.” Johnny stopped him. “Do you have a goal?”

Youngho was taken aback by the sudden question. “Yes… I think so? I guess it depends on what the goal is for.” He wasn’t very sure if he had a set goal, but he did know that he is satisfied where he is right at this moment. The only thing he is concerned about is making sure #S127 remains on the rise.

“Do you think… I’m able to have a goal?”

“You can have the goal of winning a Grammy!” Youngho suggested.

Johnny scoffed. “Well, yeah, but I’m talking about for myself. Am I able to find a goal or a passion at least for myself?”

Youngho blinked at his robot. He was at a loss for words. It seems like a simple yes or no question, but there are levels to it. The right answer to this question was up in the air somewhere, and Youngho was finding a hard time finding it. What in the world did you do to his bot?

“I’m sure you can if you put your mind to it,” Youngho answered. He grabbed his phone and began texting you, suggesting that the two of you grab coffee when you get back to the lab. He needed to talk to you to figure out the meaning behind Johnny’s words.

Some hours later, you were at a Starbucks near the lab sitting across from Youngho. You were nervous you did something bad after all, but you couldn’t get yourself to figure out what you’ve done. But thankfully, Johnny was the first to speak.

“So, Johnny asked me a question that kind of shocked me. I’m supposing you asked him the same question yesterday.” He began.

“What question are you talking about?” You asked.

“If he has a goal. He’s been thinking about it really hard.”

You felt as if a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. You thought of something way worse, even though you talked to Johnny a handful of times yesterday, and the conversations the two of you had were never bad or questionable. Your nervousness always found a way to get to you still.

“Well yeah! He needs to have a passion in order to be a real artist. And to have a passion, he needs to have a goal.” You nodded.

“Are you sure he can have a passion? He’s a robot.”

You were surprised at his response. “Aren’t you the one who created him? I thought you would know this! Writing songs isn’t just jotting down words on a piece of paper you know. It’s much more to it than that.”

Youngho sighed. You’re right, and it bothered him. It’s not you that he’s bothered by, but the fact that he really doesn’t have everything figured out. He’s so used to being a genius and having questions answered before people could even ask them, but the fact that he doesn’t have an answer prepared for something as simple as this messed with his head. How did he expect to make a successful idol group if his idols can’t even write music on their own?

“I could always just give you a song to use.” You suggested.

“No, I don’t want that,” Youngho answered quickly. “We do that every comeback. We need to actually make some improvements.”

You took a sip of your coffee as you watched Youngho try to figure out what to do. You knew Johnny writing his own song was too good to be true, but you have to admit, there is a part of you that believes in him. If he can read and understand human emotion, there are chances for him to be able to write a decent song.

“What was your purpose in making Johnny and the other guys in the group?” You asked suddenly.

Youngho frowned at the memories that came up in his mind. “I actually didn’t create Johnny and the others to be idol singers.” You furrowed your eyebrows at the bombshell. “I actually intended for them to be soldiers.”

Your jaw dropped. You would have never thought of #S127 fighting in a war. It’s a complete 180 from what they are doing right now.

“What made you change your mind?!” To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

“I didn’t change my mind.” He laughed. “The government rejected my offer, but they told me about LSM Inc. and now here I am. Lee Soo Man suggested that I use my bots to make an idol group, and I wanted nothing to do with it. But it was either I make a group, or be broke with robots that have no purpose.”

So he was in a similar situation that you’re in right now. It made you feel happy to see that he seems to enjoy his current circumstances, but still, you can’t get yourself to accept that you have to share competition with AIs who can’t even figure out how to write a song on their own. Despite that, you were growing fond of Johnny, and you wanted him to be able to find his passion. He’s the only AI you would allow to win.

“I would have never thought of Johnny being a soldier.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Considering that this is your current circumstance, you need to figure out if they’re able to create their own goals for themselves. I understand the base goal is to win awards at big music shows and hit the charts, but there needs to be a better foundation.”

Youngho couldn’t help but admire you as you gave your advice. Not only are you beautiful, but you’re thoughtful, and the more you spoke, the more it attracted him to you. Where were you when he needed you the most? The company has worked with so many different artists before you, but you’re the only one that is actually helping. He just wanted to take you into his arms and thank you repeatedly at this moment.

From here on out, Youngho was determined to find out what Johnny’s goal is. Whether it is impossible or not, he is going to make sure Johnny becomes the best songwriter there is.

***

The three months had gone by before you knew it, and in all honesty, you didn’t want to quit the job. Johnny and you had grown closer the more you worked together, and you enjoyed seeing his progress as he worked to become a better and more authentic writer. And Youngho and you also hit it off very well, becoming closer friends the more you talked. You also realized that you were catching feelings for the scientist, but you ignored it, believing that it was nothing but a simple crush. ‘It will pass overtime,’ you would tell yourself.

Kun on the other hand did nothing to remind you of the deal that you made with him since he knew you forgot about it. He enjoyed seeing you have fun made him happy, he never liked seeing you in a sour mood. He too has gotten close with Youngho as well after going out drinking with him and Doyoung several times. Just like tonight.

This time, you decided to join the guys tonight for drinks at the bar. Once you found out Kun was hanging out with the two scientists, you felt left out and invited yourself to the next outing. It wasn’t like they minded though since they love your company.

“So, I heard that you don’t really like AI’s Y/N. Can I ask you why that is?” Doyoung asked.

You poked your lip out as you thought. “Well, it’s mainly because nothing they do feels true to me. It’s all programmed. Not only that, but they’re slowly taking over our jobs. I’m not exactly comfortable with that.”

Youngho shook his head. “I get what you’re saying, but that’s not necessarily true. AI’s, at least the ones we make at LSM, is made to function like humans. So everything they do is learned after we establish a little bit of a foundation we put in their program. And there are still significantly more humans who have jobs than AI’s, but I do get your concern.”

What he said had you thinking. You supposed he was right, but you still felt so odd about it. But you figured it’s just something that you’re going to have to learn to accept as time goes on. The only AI you trust is Johnny, and that’s all that matters to you right now.

“You might be right, but it’s going to take me some time to get used to them. I like Johnny at least.” You shrugged.

“And that’s all I need to hear.” Youngho smiled widely.

You giggled at his antics. “Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom really quickly. I’ll be back. Don’t buy any more drinks without me!”

“No promises!” Kun called after you, laughing afterward.

Youngho tapped his glass, trying to decide whether the question he has is worth asking or not. But he needed to muster up the courage since it’s an important question. For him at least.

“Hey, Kun, I have a question.” Youngho started.

“Hit me.” Kun nodded.

“Do you… like Y/N?”

Kun threw his head back in laughter. “What?! Where did that come from?”

Youngho could only scratch the back of his neck and let out a small laugh. He was embarrassed, but it’s something he has been wondering about forever now.

“He’s been waiting to ask that question for ages!” Doyoung exclaimed. “He wouldn’t stop bugging me about it.”

“Well, to answer your question, no I don’t. She’s like a sister to me.” Kun shook his head simply. “You should ask her out on a date. I’m sure she’d like that.”

Youngho shook his head fervently. “I don’t know if I can do that. Not right now at least.”

“You never know until you do it.” Doyoung sing-songed. Kun couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shut up, she’s coming back!” Youngho whisper yelled.

For the rest of the night, Youngho thought about you as the four of you enjoyed more drinks. He knew he had feelings for you, but he wasn’t sure if you felt the same as he did. For now, he just wanted to take more time to read your actions before he let you know of his feelings. He needs time to muster up the courage.

The four of you decided to end the night after realizing how tipsy you have gotten. Kun realized that you had a packed schedule the next day, so they needed to get you home immediately. He already knew you were going to regret it later on.

Kun had made sure you got up to your apartment safely. You stopped him at the door, saying that you could get in the house yourself, and just go home. He at least opened the door for you before leaving, hoping that you’ll get to bed right away rather than finding things to do around the house.

When you entered your home, you began to drag your feet toward your room, that was until Johnny stopped you in the hallway.

He leaned forward and sniffed. “Were you drinking?”

You giggled. “Yeah, I was.”

“You might want to get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.” Johnny pouted at your condition. Looking at how you were, you for sure were going to experience a hand hangover in the morning.

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” You waved him off. You stepped forward to start going to your room, but you paused and stepped back. You looked up at Johnny and sucked in a sharp breath as you thought. “You look a lot like Youngho.”

Johnny blinked, confused at the sudden revelation. “I am aware of that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you just saying that because you are Youngho? Are you trying to fool me?” You poked your finger into his chest.

“No…” Johnny wasn’t sure how to respond to your absurd words. He’s never been in this situation before.

“Well, Youngho, goodnight. I will see you tomorrow.” You smiled at him. Rather than leaving, you stood there, staring up at who you believed to be Youngho through your heavy eyelids. Suddenly you got on your toes and pecked his lips softly. “Rest well Youngho.”

Johnny stood in shock after you left to your room. What was he going to tell Youngho? He has never allowed this to happen before. The kiss was so unexpected that he couldn’t dodge it! He hoped he wouldn't get in trouble.

The next day, Johnny was at the lab for the daily check-in.

“How was the night at the Babysitter’s?” Youngho asked as he plugged Johnny’s chip into his computer to retrieve yesterday’s data.

“She kissed me.” Johnny found himself blurting.

“She what?!” Youngho squeaked.

“She kissed me.” He repeated.

Youngho couldn’t believe his ears. He shook his head, slapping his hand on his forehead. “Huh?!”

“She kissed me—“

“I heard you the first two times!” Youngho yelled.

Youngho suddenly turned around to his computer and rushed to retrieve any video data if there were any. And there was. The camera hidden behind Johnny’s eyes wasn’t always on, but they only started recording if Johnny felt that he needed to. Youngho played the video, nervous about what he’s about to see. But all that worry washed away after seeing your drunken smile. Seeing you kiss his robot amused him more than he thought, as he couldn’t help but snort and laugh hysterically at what he just watched. It was something he never thought he would see or even hear about.

“She thought I was you,” Johnny revealed, which shut Youngho’s laughter up.

“W-Wait, really?” He was shocked.

“Yeah. She kept calling me Youngho.” Johnny nodded. “I think she likes you.”

A blush crept up Youngho’s neck, and he couldn’t hold back the grin on his face. Knowing that you had the same feelings he currently has sent him over the moon. He just wished you kissed him rather than his lookalike.

Youngho waited until the evening to talk to you so that you were free from all your schedules. The two of you spoke at the convenience store near your apartment, enjoying a canned beverage.

“So… Johnny found out what his goal is,” Youngho revealed.

You gasped, clapping your hand over your mouth. “For real? What is it?” You were slightly disappointed that you didn’t know what it was first since you’re the one that is with him most of the time, but you could care less since the whole point is that he knows what he’s working for now.

“Well, his goal is to gain more of a human understanding. He wants to be able to truly write a song. And he found a passion in… people, to simply put it.” Youngho chuckled. “He talks more and asks more questions than he has ever had before.”

“That’s great! I’m so glad, I was really rooting for him.” You cooed.

“I just want to thank you so much. He has been making so much improvement since he started working with you. You really helped us out. You helped him out.” Youngho smiled softly.

“Oh it’s no biggie. I’m glad I was of some help.” You laughed. “He’s the one who did most of the work, so the credit should go to him.”

“I’m supposing that’s why you kissed him then? Because you’re proud of him?” Youngho asked suddenly, a playful smirk on his face.

“What?” Your eyes grew wide in shock. “I kissed him?”

Youngho’s cackles filled the air. “You don’t remember? Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t since you were so drunk last night. Johnny told me you thought he was I, and you kissed him.”

Your fingertips touched your lips after the memories started coming back to you. “Oh my gosh!” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “This is so embarrassing!”

“Don’t be embarrassed! Actually, I’m quite flattered.” Youngho reassured you. “Just be sure to kiss me next time.”

You brought your hands down from your face so you could get a good look at his expression. You had to figure out whether he was joking or not.

And to answer your unspoken question, he cupped your cheek with his hand and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Please tell me this feeling is mutual.” You whispered.

Youngho chuckled, poking your nose as he sat back in his seat.

“Don’t worry. I want you to be mine as much as you want me to be yours. You have me baby.”

#nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #johnny suh #johnny #nct u #nct imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #johnny imagines #johnny x reader #johnny scenarios #johnny drabbles #johnny seo #johnny fluff

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lifewithdavefarts · 3 years

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DaveFarts - Episode 10 “The Elevator” [Episode List] After visiting a friend’s house, Tim and the gassy-as-usual Dave take a really slow elevator together.

The Elevator

I took a quick sip of beer as our friend Adam left the living room to get another can in his fridge. What was left was a weirdly awkward silence and Dave, with his own beer, glaring at me.

“Dude,” he whispered. “It’s been a hour. I thought you were gonna tell him.”

I chose Adam as the first non-Dave bud to come out to, but it ended up being surprisingly hard to do. It’s not like Dave was forcing me or anything, or that Adam was a bad person; on the contrary, Dave was simply there with me as my emotional support in case things go south (but we both know they won’t) and Adam was, well, just Adam. Dave’s rightful reaction to me not coming out as planned didn’t bother me and as I said he wasn’t there to intimidate a confession out of me.

“Look, I don’t feel ready, okay?”

“You’ve been talking about the weather for 20 minutes.” he hissed. “What’s next? Geology?”

I chuckled. “Actually, this reminds me that they found this weird rock in South Amer-“

“I can’t believe this.”

“What’s not to believe? You take a big shovel and-“

“And I’m gonna dig my own grave if you start talking about rocks.”

I chuckled again. I know he wasn’t really mad.

Annoyed? Maybe. But mad? Nah, that’s a stretch.

He had all the rights to be annoyed though, but in the end it was my decision to make and he knew this.

We kept whispering as we heard Adam rummaging the fridge like some kind of raccoon longing for a cold drink.

“Look.” I said. “it’s late now anyway. Let’s just leave. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“Fine.” he replied. “Let’s finish our beers first at least.”

“That goes without saying.” and I took a long sip.

Truth is that I hadn’t any real reason to hide my homosexuality from Adam or any other of my buds actually. First, we’re in our 20s, we’re all mature and open-minded here. And in the end, excluding the whole fart-thing going on with Dave, they were all like him, chill guys. Adam, despite always sounding like someone who wants to have none of your shit, or anyone’s shit really, more than once proved that it’s just a facade and not-so-deep down he’s always ready to listen and back you up whenever you needed it. He did just listen to me talking about the weather for 20 minutes, so either he’s fascinated by the subject or knows I’m trying to tell him something else and is just patiently waiting.

The thought of wasting both of my buds’ time in a way or another kind of bothered me to be honest, so I was more than okay with wrapping things up and just leave, which me and Dave did mere minutes later.

“See you bro.” my bud said to Adam, standing by the door, as we went outside in the hallway, not far from the stairs and the elevator “Tim wants to talk about rocks so I’m taking him out of here before he kills you with boredom.”

“The one they dug up in Colombia?” Adam asked, much to our surprise.

“Yeah.” I answered. “They know it’s andesite but it has some interesting carvings on the surface and-“

A startled “What the fuck.” from Dave echoed in the hallway and the entire apartment building.

“What the fuck indeed.” Adam uttered, rather excitedly, completely missing the point. “This could change the archeo-history of the entire region.”

“I heard enough.” Dave said as he walked towards the elevator.

Both me and the other rock-enthusiast laughed at his reaction.

“By the way, I’m going to join you for a bit as I gotta walk the dog.” Adam remembered, reaching for a leash behind him.

“We’ll see you outside then.” Dave replied and then turned to me. “Tim, elevator, now.” he ordered.

“You sure, guys? You remember that thing is slow as shit, right?”

“We’ll be fine.” my bud said, patting my back. “I guess I’ll make Tim last longer then.” he joked.

“That only happens when you call me ‘daddy’” I joked back, as we walked towards the elevator, leaving our common friend behind.

“Rrrright.” Adam said. “I’ll get the dog while you two solve your sexual tension. See you outside.”

I pressed the button to summon the lift, Dave’s arm still around my shoulder as if he had something to show me. Truth to be told, I somehow knew where this was going.

As the panels of the door opened, we stepped into the elevator cab. I pressed the “G” on the control panel. I heard a mechanical noise and the elevator started its long, slow descent (we were at the 10th floor), after the doors closed behind us of course.

It was a cold evening and the cab wasn’t any warmer. I turned to Dave, who was wearing a dark blue hoodie and a pair of grey jeans. He looked at me with a smirk, hands in his jeans pockets; he raised his eyebrows and, without warning, a loud thunder echoed in that enclosed moving space.

The roaring fart had a slow start, with some interruptions, actually a sign for how big it was, but Dave, being an expert, quickly tamed the gassy beast and properly “tuned” the sound of the blast after a couple of seconds, keeping a consistent pitch, while also making it sound loud and deep. It felt like he was ripping one of those huge “when the girl finally leaves” farts, only, well, Dave-sized, which is always a sight to behold… hear? In this case there was no girl so he probably simply held all of his farts in to not ruin “the moment”, in case I wanted to come out back at Adam’s place (with beer acting as a bonus fuel).

A silly smile was drawn on my bro’s face as the fart kept going strong and proud, sometimes reaching some incredibly loud moments. He chuckled a bit and even winked at me when the blast made some particularly “meaty” noises, if that makes any sense. The fart was impressive on his own but Dave “interacting” with me while still masterfully passing gas was incredible as well (and, of course, hot).

The number 6 on the control panel lightened up and only in that moment I realized two things: the first being that the elevator was indeed slow as fuck; the second is that around 40 seconds passed and neither Dave nor his fart “flinched”. I was widely aroused by that and I felt the air around us getting more and more “polluted”, but not in an unbearable way actually. The blast kept echoing inside the elevator and I’m pretty sure that it could have been easily heard, albeit a bit muffled, by anyone taking the stairs.

Dave farted in my face many times, but no fart reached the length and power of this one, which is saying a lot. My bud’s butt-burps normally last around 6-12 seconds and don’t get me wrong they’re amazing, but man, maybe this one rip would have been too much to endure even for me: it simply wouldn’t stop. It’s like there was a loud engine in the elevator which couldn’t be turned off as I couldn’t hear anything else.

I was instead the opposite of turned off and teasing bastard Dave Maning knew this and, as usual, had no issue with it. At this point it was a race between Dave’s longest fart and the world’s slowest elevator.

We were now at the 3rd floor and my bud probably wanted to do a “big finale”; he was visibly pushing the blast out now, as if he wanted it to last as long as possible, a smirk still drawn on his face. He closed his eyes and the sound made it look like another fart was ripped over the sound of the previous fart, as if two audio channels in his ass somehow overlapped. The sound was of course louder than ever; the smell now, and only now, getting a bit hard to get used to. But to be honest, Dave’s skills as a sound designer alone were impressive enough.

A big part of me, mainly the one between my legs, wanted to get on my knees and plant my face in his denim ass before the fart faded out, but I knew that would have been too much even for such a chill guy like him. I’m sure he wouldn’t hate me or anything at this point but we both know there are some untold boundaries and honestly it’s better this way. I know how lucky I am to have someone like him around (farts or not).

My farting bro probably read my mind as he slowly turned around and got closer, again without affecting the fart’s quality and, being a bit taller then me, basically farted on the upper part of my hip. It almost made my entire body shake due to its power and it felt good. Now I really wanted to bend down as if I was tying my shoes but what stopped me this time was also the thought of… not surviving. I was familiar with Dave’s farts but this was absurdly powerful even for him.

And finally, as Dave resumed his previous position, again looking at me, the fart stopped, followed by my friend letting out a relieved whistle, and then an immature cackle.

Not even 2 seconds after that the elevator reached its destination, stopping as well. I jokingly clapped my hand and shook my head in disbelief. “Bravo!” I said, as if I just watched some fancy stage play.

Dave simply smiled and turned his back at me to face the exit, as we both waited for the just-as-slow panel doors to open.

“At least not all the time here was wasted.” he laughed.

“Bro, we had a beer together. That’s never a waste of time for me.” I replied.

“Wow. Rocks, gay and cringe. You got it all, Tim!” he replied.

We both laughed at me being needlessly cheesy and finally stepped out of that gas chamber. Someone stepped in the cab as we left it and the doors closed, leaving us in the hallway at the ground floor. We heard muffled coughing noises almost immediately and we laughed again, as we knew the disgusting reason. Poor, innocent soul.

“Ok but bro” Dave then said, looking a bit more serious. “You gotta do it someday. Trust me you can trust all of us.”

“I know man.” I replied, as we walked towards the exit “Next time I meet Adam, doesn’t matter where and when, I’m gonna tell him that I’m gay.”

My voice echoed in the building and through the stairs, but I didn’t care.

“You’re… gay?”

Okay, I cared.

We both turned around, puzzled.

It was Adam, right behind us (with this dog on leash), descending one last set of stairs before ending up in front of us. Somehow he’s been slower than the elevator, which both me and Dave found hilarious but I also had other emotions going on that moment.

Dave patted my shoulder encouragingly and stepped back: it was my time to shine.

“Yep.” I simply said. “I wanted to tell you hours ago but I didn’t have the guts to do it.”

Adam just stared at me with a confused expression.

I didn’t feel as nervous as I anticipated. “Yes, Dave knows it…” I quickly added, noticing him staring at my other straight bud. “And I asked him to not tell anyone.”

A moment of silence followed and those always feel like they last hours.

“I mean you two clearly have been dating each other for years” Adam joked. “So it’s no surprise, really.”

“WHAT WE HAVE IS SPECIAL!” Dave shouted, jokingly faking a desperate reaction.

I simply laughed and before I could process how well everything was going I felt Adam doing something very unusual for him: he hugged me.

“I’m glad you told me, man.” he simply said. “You know you can count on us.”

I know times have changed and all but this felt like a victory. Every time I’m gonna come out to a friend of mine it’s one step closer to the peak of a mountain and once at the top I will finally-

“Fuck, I forgot my phone.” Adam said, patting his pockets. “I’ll just take the elevato-“

“NOOO!” both me and Dave screamed, knowing that it was still a deadly gas chamber.

Adam simply replied with an annoyed expression and went for the stairs, the dog just behind him.

“Oh hey by the way.” I asked. “What took you so long? You said the elevator was slow but somehow we made it here before you.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” he replied. “It’s just that I heard some weird noises echoing through the stairs and me and another guy tried to understand what it was.”

Dave tried to not to burst into laughter, while I simply smiled like an idiot. Adam and his dog then went up the stairs and left us in silence, not until my gassy bro decided to break it the way he usually does.

A loud fart erupted and echoed through the building, only lasting around 4 seconds this time.

“There it is again!” we heard Adam say, a couple floors above us.

Me and Dave shared an amused look and went outside trying to not laugh like immature idiots. I felt the cold weather all over me, which was relieving considering the gas trap I’ve been trapped into only minutes earlier.

Despite a slow, yet really entertaining elevator ride, and my awkwardness, no time went wasted today.

“I’m proud of you, bro.” Dave said, this time serious, but still smiling.

“Wow.” I replied. “Straight and cringe. You got it all, Dave.” and winked at him.

“Don’t get too cocky now, rock nerd.”

I was rock-hard, to be more precise that’s for sure, but that was a detail I’d take care of later, perhaps thinking back of that absurd elevator ride. Whenever I’m with Dave, I’ll make sure we’re never taking the stairs again.

End of Episode 10

#fart story #eproctophilia #fartkink #davefarts2 #gayfart #malefarts

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rose7420 · 3 years

Text

Use Your Words

A request from @lokiismyhubby

Summary: Loki feels down and Y/N decides she wants to help him out

Warnings: Selectively Mute reader

Y/N sat with Peter Parker, listening to him as he rambled on about his homework and complained about how much he had to do of it, instead of just doing it. Even though Peter could be kind of annoying sometimes Y/N loved to be near him. He was the only human so far that had proved to be worthy of her trust. He was a gentle giant and showed her tenderness and care when he provided her company. He even went out of his way to gather her food and certain supplies to help her out, erasing the risk of her being caught by another human.

Y/N knew Peter didn’t have to do all of these things but he still chose to and that made y/n feel good because she knew someone out there cared for her wellbeing. Out of impulse, she stepped up to Peter’s wrist that held a pencil and hugged it.

“Woah there… You good pipsqueak?” Peter said, raising an eyebrow in curiousness. Y/N nodded her head wordlessly. She didn’t like to speak much.

She had lost her parents at a young age and her kind called borrowers lived in small, distanced packs, making it hard to find people to share a life with. After she had lost everyone close to her there had been no reason to speak and communicate with others. Peter was the first person she had talked to in five years. When she first spoke to him her voice had been rough and she didn’t want to admit she had lost the confidence to actually speak. All of her memory of language had practically withered away in her head, making it hard to remember how to pronounce some words. Peter had only questioned once why she didn’t speak to him. He was worried she was frightened of him but she assured him that wasn’t the problem with an exaggeration of her hands and a written note. Peter hadn’t questioned her after that and only spoke to her with no expectations of her responding.

She released his wrist and smiled brightly up towards him.

“I’m glad you’re feeling good today. But I think something has made Loki feel bad these last weeks. Would you know why?” Peter asks, resting his head upon his hand to see her better. Y/n shakes her head.

“Well if you have any free time, you mind using those amazing spy skills for me? I’m worried about him, he won’t talk to me?” He patted her head with a finger.

Y/n nodded, anxious to see Loki for the first time. She had never come across the god since her arrival at the tower.

Y/n sat on a shelf in Loki’s room watching his daily life. He led a rather peaceful but boring routine. Reading late at night and early in the morning, practicing his impressive magical abilities, and occasionally eating a meal. Y/n was about to stand and leave, ready to tell Peter that he was probably sad because he did nothing during the day when the door opened. In Thor walked, one of the biggest people she’d ever seen, and that was saying something.

“Brother, why don’t you just leave this room? There are plenty of things to do.” Thor said to Loki.

“Leave so I can hear you all blabber on of how wretched of a person I am? My life may be spent in solitude but perhaps I like it like that.” Loki retorted snarkily.

“If you stay in here, your chances of being liked will increase no more. “Thor said stepping towards Loki.

“So you admit it? The mortals of this tower do not want me here.” Loki said, anger lashing his voice.

“I don’t blame them, brother. You’re wasting away in this existence you call a life. Mother would be disappointed.” Thor said, his voice going soft to lessen the blow at the end.

Despite Thor’s gentility, Loki still became furious.

“Get out,” Loki said with a scary calm. Thor respected his wishes and walked out. But Y/n stayed, thinking she had just found the reason for Loki’s sadness.

As the days went by Y/n hid well and listened to the others’ Avengers conversations. Most of them as she’d thought spoke terribly of Loki. Remorse became heavy in her heart and she vowed to make Loki feel better. Since Peter had been there for her she figured it was time for her to be there for someone else.

She crept onto Peter’s desk and broke the lead off the pencil quietly. She checked to make sure he was still asleep and began writing.

Dear Mr. Loki,

I am sorry you feel so bad. I know people can be mean but I think your feelings are valid. If it was me I wouldn’t want to hear about what people think of me either. But I think you are very kind and generous. I hope this helps.

-Your friend

Y/n set out the next night to give the letter to Loki. Her handwritten letter was strapped to her back, easily accessible to her reach. The floor was mute under her imperceptible footsteps. She climbed the towering, unstable wall of Loki’s silk, black bedsheets which was a hard task as the sheets slipped from her grip a couple of times sending her heart to beat out of her chest. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, she reached the top. Her breaths were heavy and she struggled to keep them quiet. Approaching Loki’s open, pale outstretched palm she retrieved the letter from behind her back. The paper was bigger than her upper half when folded together and heavy enough that she couldn’t place it upon his palm using only her arms to boost it to the surface. Which meant that she would have to climb into his hand.

Oh, how she wanted to turn around, climb down the bed and run to her safe, warm home inside the wall.

But she refused to give up when she had come so far.

And he needed someone to be there for him.

She delicately climbed into his palm, with the letter strapped to her back carefully placing her feet in non-ticklish places. One twitch of his hand would send her flying onto the covers, or worse off the bed itself. She shivered at the thought. Finding a good place to leave the letter she bends down.

Then a powerful, immense weight falls upon her sending darkness to coat her vision. She falls to her butt as vertigo hits.

“What are you doing?” A booming voice demands.

She trembles in fear, covering her head with her arms. I knew I should’ve just gone away. What will he do?

“I asked you a question?” The voice is angry. A light is turned on allowing her sight of her captor.

She dares to look up and is met with the rage of Loki Laufeyson. She shakes her head in reluctance to answer.

“What is this?” He roughly nudges her away from the note she holds in her arms causing her to fall onto her back with a squeak of fear. She holds onto the slip of paper for security but his strength overpowers hers greatly. His eyes squint in concentration as he reads the small handwriting.

“Did you write this?” He asks returning his focus upon her trembling form.

She nods hesitantly.

“Truly?”

Another nod.

“You don’t speak much do you Little Miss, do you?” He asks with a hint of a smile, his tone is much softer.

She shakes her head. Y/n clutches her arms across her chest, scooting back further from his face.

“Did I frighten you?” Loki suggests his eyes gentle voice guilty.

She nods, her eyes wide studying him for any ill intent.

“I apologize. I have a few trust issues. “

She says nothing and only stares at him with distrust.

“How did you know what the others were saying about me?” Loki asks raising her to meet his eyes. Even through her apprehension, she notices how beautiful they are. How his irises cannot seem to decide on a cool blue or a rainforest green.

She doesn’t try to answer his question, from the fear of speaking and the trepidation of angering him with her words.

“Okay, well I will wait until you’re ready to tell me. For now, I’ll let you go.” He stands up from his bed and releases her onto the hardwood floor. He stays crouched even as she slips off his long fingers. Taking a few cautious steps away from his looming form she is frankly surprised he is letting her go. She supposes that is a good sign. Maybe she will come back to him despite her previous scare.

“Don’t be a stranger.” His voice calls out almost wistfully.

Next week…

Y/n finds herself in a vent located in Loki’s room. This past week she’d felt guilty for leaving Loki in such a dreadful, sad state. So her final decision was to come back. She watched as Loki sat reading in an armchair on the other side of the room. He looked regal and imposing from far away, with his head bent down in concentration, long legs spread outward and she could only imagine how intimidating he must look up close. Her legs shook as she dropped to the floor below with no sound to alert Loki of her presence. Scurrying to his chair she stopped by his black boot. Even this simple apparel dwarfed her, able to serve as her sufficient sleeping quarters.

If you want to turn back now’s the time. She said to herself.

The enormous, unaware boot shifted closer to her and she let out a squeak, scampering back.

“It’s you again Little Miss.”

She craned her head all the way up and saw Loki staring down at her. His black hair hung down around his face. His hand reached for her and pinched her waist carefully, lifting her up to bring in front of his eyes. The pressure on her waist was gentle but still made her fearful.

She kicked her legs in search of a non-reachable floor. Loki noticed her apprehension and set her down in his other palm.

“Is that better?” He ducked his head down to meet her eye.

She nodded.

“Still not talking are we?” He asked.

She shook her head.

“Well, I suppose that’ll be fine. Would you care for me to read to you?” He asked kindly.

His offer was so kind and thoughtful. One that didn’t seem right for a simple nod in answer.

“Y-yes p-please.” She stumbled.

Loki grinned and set her upon his shoulder. She wasn’t sure what to do so high up and close to his person. Thankfully Loki caught onto this with his quick perception.

“Sit right here Little One.” He tapped right beside his neck and held still as she walked to the pointed area. Sitting down, she dared to lean a bit of her weight against his neck. She was instantly met with warmth and the gentle pounding of his pulse. When he started reading his smooth voice vibrated her minutely.

After a while, Y/n started becoming sleepy from the comfortableness of her position. Loki stopped reading.

“You know Little Miss, I think you have a lovely voice… perhaps you should use it more often.”

Y/n pondered these words in her sleepy mind.

Maybe she would heed his advice, but for now, she would sleep.

#loki #giant loki #tiny reader #borrower #selectively mute

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thenovelartist · 3 years

Text

Burned Beginnings, Chapter 4

<<Previous Next>>

10. Tutoring

When Marinette entered the bakery to help Adrien complete the handfuls upon handfuls of special orders, he could tell she was on a mission. He really liked the strong set of her posture and determined glint in her eye whenever she got that way, which meant he’d have trouble ignoring that distraction and keeping on top of the schedule.

“So,” she began, turning her fiery look towards him. “I think I’ve made a decision.”

Adrien raised a brow. “What?”

“About the fashion world.”

“You have my attention.” After all, she’d been researching non-stop for over a month, now. He’d seen how much it was wearing on her. At the moment, she looked revitalized.

“I need you to be my own private tutor for a moment.”

Adrien couldn’t help but grin like a cat that got the cream. He sauntered up to her, striking his best pose. “Oh? Just what am I gonna be teaching you, milady? And is this really the place for it?”

Marinette’s expression fell flatter than a crepe. “Adrien.”

“Hint taken,” he said, straightening himself up. “What am I teaching you?”

“I want every story you have to tell,” she said. “You may not have been a designer, but you first hand witnessed your father’s fashion empire and were involved in several different sides of it. I want to know your own personal experience with everything. Good, bad, ugly, right, wrong; I want to know.”

His mouth set in a hard line. “I… I wouldn’t mind it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But fair warning: I’m biased.”

“That’s what I want to know, too,” she said. “The fashion industry is extremely competitive. And from the data I’ve seen, there’s plenty of people who go in with high hopes, only to get chewed up and spit out. What are your dark secrets? What am I actually looking forward to if I go in?”

Adrien frowned. He had plenty of stories to tell, that wasn’t the issue. What was the problem was the likelihood they’d discourage her from pursuing fashion any further. And if she did end up wanting to go into fashion, he didn’t want to crush any hope she currently held.

But looking at her now, he realized he wouldn’t be able to tell her no. She had a determination in her eyes that was both sexy and frightening. That look warned that she was on the verge of a decision, and whatever she chose would be ultimate and final.

Part of him loved that fire in her, and part of him wished he had half the gumption she did.

“Okay,” he relented. “But before I do, can you promise me that you’re not basing everything off what I say? That it will only add to all the other research you’ve done.”

She nodded resolutely. “Promise.”

He sighed. “Well,” he said, giving her a sheepish smile. “Guess the question now is where do I even begin?”

11. Truth or Dare

Marinette had come to her decision, and no one would sway her from it.

The tales Adrien had told her were mostly along the lines of what she expected, while there were others that more strongly leaned towards “that’s pretty good,” and still others that crossed into “that’s really bad” territory.

So, after that evening, the question she had faced herself with was not “could I handle this?” but rather “do I want to do this?” and “do all the potential benefits out way all the negative?”

But really, that brought her back to “what do I even want out of life?” because her answer changed everything…

Which make her realize that maybe she wasn’t so resolute in her decision after all.

She was almost nineteen. By now, most of her classmates had plans for the future they were all pursuing. She had thought she’d had plans, but when they all crumbled beneath her feet, she found herself lost, wondering around the Land of What-Do-I-Do-Now?

“Marinette!”

With a squeak, she practically leapt five feet into the air at the sudden voice right beside her. When she realized it was Adrien, she leaned against the bakery table with a heavy sigh. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Someone was lost in thought.”

“Yeah! And the last thing you do when someone is lost in thought is purposefully surprise them by suddenly appearing right beside them. Jerk!” With a hint of a smile, she took some of the flour on the table and flicked it at him, knowing that if she did, he’d wipe that apologetic look of his face and loosen up a bit.

“Hey!” He turned away, but not quick enough. Flour dusted his perfect jawbone and perfect collar bone and perfectly fitted t-shirt. But it was the perfect smile that he wore that made the rest of the heaviness she felt on her shoulders disappear, even if only for a moment.

“Don’t do that again,” she warned, her voice not really holding any bite in it.

“No promises,” he said with a chuckle, dusting the flour off him. “That was a pretty cute squeak, princess.”

She just sighed. There was no getting him off the name by now so she’d just learned to roll with it. “I am not cute! I am fierce.”

“Yeah, like a little fluffy Papillion.”

She gasped, flicking even more flour at him. He laughed again.

“Is the bread in the oven yet, Marinette?” her father called out, bringing her back to reality.

“Almost!” she cried, quickly hurrying to score the tops of the loaves on the last pan before hurriedly sticking all the pans she’d made in the oven. “Done!”

“Thank you.” That was when her papa reappeared. “The fridge is clean now, so I’m off.”

“And I’m on,” Adrien said with a grin. “There’s only a couple special orders to handle tonight, right?”

“Yup. You’ll finish those in a flash.”

Adrien beamed. “Perfect. Got to love when my days are easy.”

Her papa chuckled. “Can’t disagree with you there. Being a baker is more fun when you don’t have too large an order burden.”

“Exactly,” Adrien agreed, already tying on his apron.

After Marinette saw her papa off, leaving just her and Adrien in the kitchen, he sidled up to her. “Let’s play a game.”

She quirked a brow at him. He looked way too mischievous at the moment. “You just got on shift, and you want to play a game?”

He was positively beaming. “Yup.”

Although she shook her head, she didn’t mind it. She enjoyed running shifts with Adrien or just hanging out with him in general. But she knew that if they started up, she was the one who’d have to keep them on track for the night. “Start in on something first. Unless you wanna be here all night.”

“Point taken.” Immediately, Adrien set to work weighing ingredients and then mixing up a dough.

“So,” he said as he worked. “Truth or dare.”

Marinette dropped the bench scraper in her hand, less out of shock and more out of annoyance, as she shot him an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

“You want to play truth or dare? Now?”

“Yup. Just for a couple rounds.”

Little red flags went up in Marinette’s mind as she studied the overly happy blond. “Why?”

“Because I want to. Now! Truth or dare?”

She should shut this down before they got into trouble, but she had the feeling he’d tease her for it if she did. And she was not going to give him the chance. “Which one do you want me to pick?”

Adrien turned to study her a moment. “Dare.”

“Truth, then,” she countered with a grin.

“Yes!” He pumped his fist in the air. “I was banking on that.”

This time, she almost did drop the bench scraper out of shock. “What?”

“I know you,” he twittered, grinning like the idiot he was. “I know you. You weren’t going to give me the satisfaction of picking what I wanted; you never do. So, I just played you like the cheap fiddle you are.”

Marinette tried to look offended. She really did. But it was hard when her cute, idiot coworker was doing a happy dance. That, and she rather enjoyed this banter they always had. “Excuse you, who are you calling a cheap fiddle?”

“You, princess.”

“Oh really? The kazoo is calling me a cheap fiddle.”

“Kazoo?”

“Kazoo.”

He pantomimed being stabbed through the heart, and while he tried to keep the smile off his face, she could tell he was struggling. “Ahh, the ice princess is so cold. The light is fading. Limbs. Growing. Cold.”

She failed suppressing a laugh, turning and hiding her growing grin behind her hand. He was such a dork.

Adrien seemed to pull himself together, laughing along with her as he went back to measuring more ingredients. “Okay, okay. Back to the topic at hand.”

Marinette calmed herself, but her smile refused to budge. “Okay, you were asking me truth.”

Adrien came to stand right across from her. He reached across the table, grabbing her hands and pulling them closer. Her smile was gone now, and so was Adrien’s, as their combined hands rested in the middle of the table. “Scale of one to ten, how much do you trust me?”

Her cheeks and neck and chest flushed red as she stared into his green eyes. “W… what brought that on?”

His grasp on her hands tightened. “I just want to know.”

That was a lie. Or, at least only a half truth. He had a different reason for asking that specific question. She knew it. She could tell. Eight months of working together, and she’d come to be able to read this man like a book.

When had they gotten so close?

She took a breath to clear her mind. She’d probe him later, or maybe their little game would give her the answer she was looking for in that regard. But for now, she quietly responded, “A solid 8.5.”

Adrien paused, taking in those words before slowly nodding. “8.5,” he murmured. “I’ll take it.”

With that, he pulled his hands away. Marinette felt the loss immediately, but there wasn’t anything she was willing to do to make them come back. Not yet, anyway.

And would her heart calm down already? The way it was racing made it hard to think.

“Truth or dare?” she asked, voice quiet.

“Truth,” he answered.

“How many secrets would you say you’re hiding from me right now?”

A loaded question, Marinette knew. But she just had a feeling, an inkling, that she knew the exact number. One for what he was hiding now, and one… if he had feelings for her.

It wasn’t the first time that thought had popped into her mind. She’d had her suspicions for a while now that his flirty banter wasn’t just out of good, playful fun. And maybe she was reading into it too much, but she felt like he’d been more… touchy with her lately. A fist pound here, a pat on the shoulder here, a playfully light punch to the arm in the heat of their teasing; things like that. And if not touching, then he seemed to like being close. And and and…

And was she wrong, or did when he ask her ‘truth’, he purposefully make it that intimate?

Do you like me, Adrien? Or am I jumping to a conclusion?

And to I like you in return? Or am I mistaking our friendship for something more?

Because I don’t want to hurt you. And I don’t want to get hurt by you.

But…

It might be too late for that.

“Like…” Adrien began after a moment’s pause. “Define secret.”

“Something that you do not, in the near future, intend to tell me or would be comfortable in telling me.”

Adrien pursed his lips. “How will you know I’m being honest about the number?”

“I trust you 8.5 out of ten, right?” she softly reminded. “A number that can go up or down at any time.”

That got Adrien to wince. “Yeah,” he murmured.

There was a long pause, one Marinette wasn’t sure he was going to break.

“How far is ‘near future’?” he finally asked.

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah, it does.”

She paused. “Then answer how many secrets are on the line here.”

“Only one.”

“Only one?”

“Something I am not comfortable telling you or don’t intend to tell you in the near future, per your words, yes. Only one.”

Her brows knit together. Only one? Which meant… either the thing he was hiding now or the feelings. It was one or the other, but not both. “So…” she said, trying to hide her disappointment. “Are you saying that you intend to tell me this sometime in the future? But don’t know when in the future that will be?”

His brow knit together nervously, before he played it off with a warbly smile. “I’m pretty sure I answered my truth, already, princess.”

She frowned. Technically, he did, in an odd, roundabout way that somehow left her with more questions than answers. “Fine. How about we just drop this already?”

Part of her didn’t want to drop it. Part of her wanted to be able to pull another truth out of him. She wanted… needed to know which secret he was hiding. But she wasn’t sure her heart could handle it if it wasn’t the secret she wanted it to be.

“One more round,” he quickly begged.

Marinette quirked a brow but surrendered without fuss. “Fine. Dare. What are you gonna make me do now?”

He grinned. “I was hoping for that.”

“Why?”

He stopped the mixer, then came over to her and once again leaned in close. “I dare you… to come to New York with me.”

Marinette was frozen. She blinked her eyes several times, and her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth.

Eventually, she found the words to say. “I’m sorry, repeat that?”

12. Seatmates

It had been a month since Adrien had gotten the pleasure of surprising Marinette with a trip to New York.

After Marinette had asked him for his stories of the fashion world, Adrien had been so worried that she’d walked away with the determination to surrender her former dreams, and that made him feel too guilty to handle. So, breaking the unspoken vote of confidence she’d placed in him, he’d talked to her parents.

He hadn’t divulged everything, just the bare essentials necessary to get them to understand. Mr. Dupain had seemed surprised, but the information didn’t seem to have caught Mrs. Cheng off guard. It made more sense when she admitted she’d been suspecting something was up for a while, and this had confirmed it.

So Adrien had told them what he wanted to do: give Marinette’s dreams one last encouraging push by taking her to fashion week. His original plan had been for it to be Paris’ fashion week, but he’d been keeping tabs on Chloe and her whereabouts as well as taking into account that Marinette had been barred from several Parisian schools. If she wanted school to be a reality, she wouldn’t be in Paris, meaning it might be beneficial to take her outside the country. It would give her the chance her to explore and stretch her wings in a way staying inside France would not allow.

With her parents’ blessings on the idea, Adrien had started planning. And then had come the fun part of surprising her with it.

The roller-coaster of emotions she’d gone on after his dare had been a joy to watch. Disbelief to doubt to shock to excitement. She’d been so expressive that Adrien had found himself falling even harder. And when she’d agreed to let him take her to New York—which took no small amount of convincing—he’d been over the moon.

However, there was one thing about that day he couldn’t forget. Mostly because it hung of his head. Marinette had only remembered by the end of her shift that she still had one last round of truth or dare.

“Dare,” he’d answered. It was only fair.

She’d seemed relieved almost at that. And with her words, he understood why. “I dare you to let me save my dare for another time.”

After recalling the way she’d tortured him by cashing in her last favor by making him clean out the deep, dark crannies of the freezer and storage room, he had been hesitant about this one. Even if she had repaid him for that torture with the best dinner he’d eaten in months, he still couldn’t forget the devious sparkles in her eyes as she cashed in that favor. It made him worried for just what kind of dare she would make him do.

Hopefully it wouldn’t be too bad. After all, he was taking her to New York. She wouldn’t be cruel, would she?

Quietly, he scoffed. No, this was Marinette. She could be downright devious if she wanted to and make him think he was okay with it.

A weight on his shoulder called him out of his reverie. They’d been watching a new anime he’d downloaded on his computer for the plane ride. When they started, Marinette had seemed intent on watching it, but at the moment, it seemed his seatmate was too tired to keep it up.

“Hey,” he whispered, gently shaking his shoulder.

She took an earbud out but didn’t look up. “Hmm?”

“Do you want to just watch this later and sleep now?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Okay.” He paused the anime, then shut his computer screen.

Marinette shifted just enough to take out her earbuds, but then she was back to leaning against his shoulder. “This okay?” she asked, her groggy voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s fine,” he assured even though his heart protested. It was a little too okay with him. “Get some sleep.”

With one last hum, Marinette fully settled against his side, and within a little while, she was out.

Adrien sighed, leaning his head against Marinette’s.

“Truth or dare?” she asked, voice quiet.

“Truth,” he answered, going back to the mixer to turn it off.

“How many secrets would you say you’re hiding from me right now?”

He let his eyes drift closed at the memory. If only he had the courage to go for it. But this was the girl he considered to be his closest friend, and he wasn’t ready to take that plunge quite yet.

I really like you.

If she didn’t feel the same, he was sure they could go back to almost normal in time, but there would always be that rift.

A small, bitter smile suddenly crossed his lips. Here he was, trying to encourage her to follow her dreams or at least press forward to take a chance, and he was too much a coward to take his own advice.

What a hypocrite.

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrienette #AdrinetteApril2021 #Fluff #Fluff and angst #Yeah I make you hurty #Just a little #I'll fix it soon #i promise

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saby-chan · 3 years

Text

Fire Lord Ozai: A blood thirsty monster or the less fortunate “Zuko” of his generation?

Hello again and thank you as always for clicking and allotting some of your time to read my humble post! Since I’ve happened to notice quite an increase in posts lately regarding the controversial character and nature of the former Fire Lord, the now imprisoned fallen prince Ozai, and I’ve personally promised in my previous post that I will share my own analysis on him if people asked me to do so (which actually happened), I am here to deliver my own take on this very intriguing man’s character, while also building a potential past for him based on stuff gathered from the show’s cannon.

I would like to start this essay with what I find to be my favorite quote ever: ”Monster’s aren’t born, they are created.” ~ Naruto Uzumaki (Naruto) What I like about this quote soo much and find very inspirational is the truth it holds within its short, yet powerful message. We are often fast to judge a “book by the cover”, to reduce others to what we assume of them by their appearance or latest actions that we’ve seen them do, but never actually take a moment and wonder where they come from, if this person we soo harshly look down upon really has been this way since their very beginning?

I’ve come across many comments on social media related to ATLA, especially on YouTube videos on which people would throw with harsh comments such as “Aang being a coward for choosing to spare the villain just because they saw a dumb baby pic of them” or “Ozai is the essence of evil and even as a baby he’d been a monster”. I can’t help but wonder who hurt these people to make them be so cruel? Like, how messed up must you actually be to say that a baby, a friggin baby, is the embodiment of all evils? Or that a child was a coward for choosing to see his opponent’s last bits of humanity and opted to spare them?

Aang was soo morally conflicted about the idea of killing Ozai not only because it contradicted the morals of his people, but because he himself understood that this man hadn’t always been the cruel beast he came to met in their first and final showdown. It’s important to note here the fact that upon finding that picture, Aang was actually convinced it had to be Zuko as a baby since it looked so innocent and cute and was actually surprised to learn it was Zuko’s father. And that’s the thing, Ozai was born like us all as an innocent and sweet baby. Babies aren’t in any way evil or twisted, they don’t even have the notion of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ defined in their small, still developing minds. In fact, the very choice of the creators to add this picture in the show is meant to tell us this very thing: this man wasn’t always like this. But if he wasn’t always like this, then what happened to make him become this way?

Well, in order to find out the reason, we must go back in time to the very beginning: Ozai’s childhood and upbringing. For this next part I am going to solely focus on the show cannon, as the comics aren’t the products of BryKe and have a lot of inconsistencies to the source’s cannon (you can go and read my other post on why they fail when it comes to Zuko’s character and his family).

From what we know and can easily deduce by ourselves just from their appearances, Ozai and his brother Iroh have a huge age gap between them (somewhere between 10 and 15 years). This has to be our first red flag: isn’t it soo odd that this family opted to have their children at such a long distance between pregnancies? It almost feels as if Ozai hadn’t actually been part of his father’s actual family planning... In other words, he was a ‘mistake’ child (I actually hate having to use this terminology, but it will become relevant to when we expand on Azulon’s relationship with his sons). Sure, some may argue that Azulon actually decided to have two sons in case something were to happen to his first born, but wouldn’t it have been more logical to have his second born at 2-3 years max distance from his first? Why choose to have your second child when you are much older and thus risk having a baby with issues, if your sole purpose of this child is to serve as an insurance that you don’t ‘run out’ of heirs? It just doesn’t make much sense, so let’s go for the moment with the possibility that Ozai was an unplanned pregnancy.

This perspective actually gives way to another very interesting aspect: remember the infamous “Born lucky...Lucky to be born” quote? What if I tell you that there is a possibility that this quote wasn’t Ozai’s personal wicked invention, but actually something he himself heard from his very own father? It had been puzzling me for a long time why he choose to say “You were lucky to be born” to Zuko, which implies that Zuko wasn’t supposed to exist. I mean, it’s soo odd that Ozai went with something implying that Zuko was an unplanned pregnancy, since Zuko was the first born. So my theory is that maybe Ozai wanted to convey a different message to Zuko when he said that quote, but due to his anger he ended up replicating the same line he received from Azulon at some point in his childhood. We never got the exact flashback when the line was delivered from Ozai to Zuko, so we don’t have the exact context that lead to it (remember, we are excluding Yang’s take on the matter from the comics).

I mean, this feels like something that wicked old Azulon would have said to his least favorite child. Okay, so let’s go with the scenario that Ozai was an unwanted child, to which we could also add the possibility that Ilah’s health deteriorated after the first birth, which makes plausible the family’s initial decision of stopping at 1 kid.

Moving on, we know from the old ATLA character wiki’s that Ozai’s character design was made with Zuko in mind, being meant to be a grown up version of Zuzu, without the scar. An interesting choice indeed and even Iroh’s letter to Zuko on Ozai from one of the ATLA books describes Ozzy in a similar way to teenage Zuko in book 1: stubborn, feisty, determined and with a volcanic personality (easy to anger and competitive), so it means that these were intentional choices to imply that Zuko and his father are more similar than we were led to believe at first glance. Maybe Ozai was the “Zuko” of his generation. Also, in one of the interviews on the royal family, BryKe stated that Ozai worked very hard to get where he is in book 3, referring to his firebending specifically (we all know how Ozzy got the throne, so clearly, he didn’t “work hard” for that), so maybe he wasn’t always the strongest man alive, with the most exceptional firebending skills out there, like Azula who showed ease in her learning, but rather someone closer to Zuko’s weaker performance as a child, building his way to success through endless hard work until he became the prodigy we know today.

Continuing with our theoretical scenario, after his birth, the second child show’s lesser skills compared to his brother Iroh (by that I don’t mean that he wasn’t gifted at all, but that maybe Ozai wasn’t as fast and great of a learner like his big bro), so Azulon opts to just ignore him and continue focusing solely on his golden child. In my headcannon I actually think that Ilah survived the birth and so she was left in charge of the younger child’s education and upbringing. At this point Iroh is already 10 or older, so he is forced to focus on his development, which prevents him from spending time with his lil brother, but just for the sake of being positive, let’s assume that Ozai still had both his mother and his big brother to keep him sheltered from Azulon’s darkness for a small portion of his childhood.

I choose to believe that Ozai had his mother’s love for a small bit of his childhood due to his willingness in the show to allow Ursa (who mind you, as the granddaughter of Roku was considered a treacherous individual) to spend a ton of time with both Zuko and Azula and share her philosophy with the children, as seeing his wife playing with their children probably reminded him of his own bitter-sweet memories he had with Ilah. They also probably spent a lot of their time near the turtle-duck pond since that pond’s existence prolly dates long before Ozai and Ursa married and had their own children.

Unfortunately, Ilah dies and little Ozai remains all alone, to be influenced negatively by his father (and even by his grandpa Sozin, we don’t really know for certain when the old man died, so he prolly was there for a short time when Ozzy was still a child). Azulon most likely blames Ozai for his wife’s death as the second birth might’ve really had a huge toll on Ilah’s already fragile body, bringing her closer to death, so he still neglects and ignores the child, if not straight out bullies and abuses him for not being on par with Iroh. This prolly leads to Ozai becoming jealous of his brother since Iroh has their father’s love, pushing them further apart. I headcannon that this jealousy between the siblings led to Ozai complaining to his dad when he finally had too much of their father’s discrimination (at a similar age to when Zuko prolly did and got the infamous line, if not younger) only to get the “Iroh was born lucky, you were lucky to be born!” line with the sole purpose of hurting him since now the child knows that he was never wanted.

When Azulon scolds very furiously adult Ozai in Zuko’s memories for daring to ask to be named crown prince, he literally says something like “What, you dare ask me to betray MY own son?!” (this is like red flag number two), line that pretty much testifies how Azulon chose to pretty much treat Ozai as if he wasn’t his son too, showcasing how much he despised his second born and favored the first child over him. Since we are on the topic of their last conversation, the punishment Azulon gave to his son alone proves this man’s level of sadism, which leads me to be believe that Ozai’s childhood was full of this type of punishments for bad behaviors that could be easily corrected trough a long serious lecture or a lesser punishment focused more on teaching him an actual lesson.

The old wikis also mention on the page about the hall with portraits of the previous Fire Lords that it was the place where Ozai chose to spend most of his time in his youth, seeking advice from his ancestors. I mean, seriously now, if he had a good and supportive father and a present brother in his life, would Ozai had chosen to seek guidance from the dead instead of his living family? That piece of information that was easily overlooked by many proves how lonely this man was in his youth.

So for the most part of his life, Ozai grew up under the toxic influence and abuse of his tyrant father who refused to acknowledge him. Yet he managed to grow up still full of determination to one day prove his worth to Azulon and gain his acceptance (just like we saw with Zuko in book 1, who was desperate to regain his honor and be accepted by his father). But unfortunately, no matter how strong he became or how good of a firebender he was, Azulon was unmoved and unphased by his second son’s performance.

From what we could gather from the little info we received in the show, it seems that Ozai was never sent to the battle field to aid his older brother, being kept as a stay home prince, with the only occasion he actually left home being to search for the Avatar (I don’t think Iroh was sent to do his part on searching the Avatar since he strongly believed that there wasn’t going to ever be one, so it’s safe to assume Azulon assigned Ozai with this mission just to get rid of him for a few years) and the only purpose he ever served to his father was to become part of the old man’s genetics experiment in order to create strong unparalleled firebending offspring (which I am pretty sure were meant to be ‘biological war machines’ used by Azulon in the war, as he didn’t really seem to give a shit about Ozai’s children compared to Lu Ten). So just imagine the level of disappointment and dishonor Ozai must’ve felt as a man and young aspiring soldier to find out that he was going to be used like a ‘non-bending daughter’ in a strategical marriage and never get to serve his country in what he’d been taught was the greatest and most important war for their Nation.

All in all, this marriage didn’t really end up that badly because it seems he and Ursa were actually very compatible. The old wiki for Ursa states that she was a noble woman and the perfect match for Ozai, which leads me to believe that show Ursa was intended to be a very strong willed and determined woman who earned his respect. The show never stated that Ozai never wanted his first born or that he was disappointed with Zuko from birth like the comics say, so it’s safe to assume that Ursa and Ozai actually ended up falling in love at some point since they had not one, but two kids with relatively a short time in between pregnancies.

There are actually many signs in the show that actually prove that these two loved each other and Ozai didn’t abuse his wife: from the fact that they went every year to see Ursa’s favorite play despite Ozai hating the poor performance of the Ember Island Players (I mean, what man would do such a sacrifice as to endure the same torture every single year just to make his wife happy if he never loved her?), Ursa’s undeniable and sincere love for their children (in the show it was never stated that Ursa saw Zuko and Azula as someone else’s children, so if she were indeed an abused woman who was forced to have these children, she wouldn’t have ever loved them to such an extent, especially Zuko who resembled his father the most physically), the fact that Ursa had equal rights in their marriage and raising of their children (her even scolding and grounding Ozai’s favorite child without hesitation), to the most significant scene to the Urzai ship in Zuko’s flashbacks: Ozai sitting troubled all alone in Ursa’s favorite spot by the pond, in a sad and brooding atmosphere, after he lost her, instead of celebrating what had to be the happiest day of his life since he was finally crowned Fire Lord (it’s clear who had more importance in his heart: Ursa meant more to him than the throne, so losing her outshined his achievement). In fact, Ursa must’ve been the only thing that still kept him outside of the darkness that threatened to swallow his heart and once he lost her, Ozai had nothing else to keep him on the right path.

And even as a father, it seems that Ozai wasn’t always cold and distant to his children, as his true self depicted in Zuko’s memories on Ember Island shows him caring for both of his children, even holding Zuko close to him with a protective arm on the boy’s shoulder. Except the Agni Kai, there don’t seem to be any instances in which he was physically violent towards his son before the banishment (Iroh literally let Zuko in to join that faithful war meeting willingly. Would’ve he done that if he knew his brother to be very violent towards his children in case they disobeyed? If yes, then it would make Iroh actually very questionable on a moral standpoint) and even on an emotional level, I don’t really think that he was actually abusive to him (at least while Ursa was there) because from Zuko’s conversation with Zhao, he’s adamant that his father will take him back and even states "You don't know how my father feels about me. You don't know anything!", meaning that the father he used to know showed him a level of respect and genuine affection (if Ozai were to bully Zuko since the boy’s very early childhood, do you think this kid would grow up to be so sure that his father wants him around and would he defend this bully when someone badmouths them in front of him?).

Even with Azula, despite people demonizing her from early childhood and saying that she was manipulated since birth by Ozai to become a war machine, I do believe that she shows genuine love and affection towards her father. I do choose to believe that back in the good times when the family was happy, Ozai spent quality time with his daughter, filling in the gap left by Ursa’s neglect. I theorize that the reason why kid Azula badmouthed her grandpa and uncle was because she was being very protective of her father: since she used to like spying and eavesdropping, it’s safe to assume that she prolly witnessed many instances in which the old man bullied or insulted Ozai, favoring Iroh over him. It’s a bit harder to see it that way since her snarky comments involve dark topics, but since they live in a society governed by power and war, I see them as something similar to if Azula would’ve said “Uncle sucks and he will surely be fired from his job!” or “Grandpa is old and weak, he should leave the family business to dad!”. Even the fact that the only thing capable of shattering her to pieces was her father leaving her proves how much she cared for him. Ty Lee and Mai’s betrayal was a big blow on Azula’s control and sanity, but she didn’t breakdown until Ozai discarded her after his coronation as Phoenix King. There’s nothing more painful in this world than to be left behind by the person you loved the most and was there by your side your whole life, whom you wanted to follow to world’s end and back. That was the moment Azula finally realized that the father she used to know and love was actually gone and had been in fact, long gone for years at this point.

But if Ozai cared for his family what made him change? Easy, it all comes back to the fact that his father never acknowledged him. The throne doesn’t seem to be his ultimate goal in life since Ozai discarded of the Fire Lord title very easily, tossing it to Azula without any remorse or hesitation. It was more about the meaning behind getting the crown: replacing Iroh in the line of succession was the ultimate proof of his father’s acceptance, that he wasn’t only a “mistake” and “failure” in his father’s eyes, but since Azulon ended up saying and doing what he did, backfired Ozai and made him understand that no matter how hard he tried, the old man will never see him for what he is. So yeah, for a proud man like Ozai this was a hard defeat to swallow, which in turn sparked his strong desire of winning the war and becoming the king of the world: if Azulon wouldn’t accept him even in death, then Ozai will prove to the whole world that he was above his father and his “perfect” brother by accomplishing what they never could and even better and no one was going to stop him, not even his own family.

This is what differentiates Ozai from Zuko: while both had similar upbringings, Ozai never broke away from his obsession of gaining his father’s admiration, allowing himself to fall prey to the darkness left by Azulon in his heart and abandon his true self, only to become the copy of his abuser, while Zuko stood up to his dad and chose his own destiny. If Aang were to come back around 20 or 30 years earlier, then he might’ve actually been able to save Ozai just like he saved Zuko, but unfortunately it wasn’t this way.

Do I think that Ozai could still be saved and redeemed even after the events of book 3? Definitely! Since he’s actually a broken man and still has a tiny bit of humanity left within, I think he still has a chance to change his heart. The only thing is that it’d be a long lasting process: first off he needs to spend a long time in solitude and reflect on his life’s choices and his past, understand where he went wrong and that what happened to him in his childhood is called abuse, which he ended up replicating on his own children. After he understands his wrongdoings and becomes willing to rediscover his true self, he needs to understand the truth about the war, that everything he’d known was fake propaganda and that there was nothing glorious in what he, his father and Sozin did under the excuse of “sharing their Nation’s greatness with the rest of the world!”. But most importantly of all, the only remedy that could possibly save him is love. It sound cliche, but by responding to hatred with more hate like Zuko did in the comics would never change the world “for the better” or bring it “to reality”. The only way to save both Azula and Ozai would be trough showing them the power of love, hope and empathy, how they don’t have to struggle alone and push everyone away. And especially by redeeming Azula, she would be a very important piece in Ozai’s redemption: since he had a closer parent-child relationship with Azula and cared for her the most when he did care, realizing how much he made her suffer through his actions, that would probably break Ozai enough to make him admit that he was wrong all along.

So yeah, this is my analysis on Ozai’s character using the cannon information from the show and old wikis and why I think he is just the product of a very bad environment and an abusive parent who never showed him love (if there’s a reason for why Ozai might be uncapable of showing a healthy parental love to his children is because you can’t show what you’ve never learnt yourself), being the Zuko of his generation who never got to experience the positive influence of an “Uncle Iroh” to guide him on the right path.

You can agree with me or not on this one, but this is what I choose to believe. Maybe I am way too good by choosing to see any potential good in anyone, but I feel it’s a better way than to counter hate with more hate like Yang did in his monstrous portrayal of Ozai in The Search.

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and if you agree with anything I’ve said, feel free to leave a like and to reblog this post.

See you next time and stay safe! Bye-Bye!

Saby out.

#atla #atla rant #avatar the last airbender #ozai #azulon #ursa #zuko #azula

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ikeromantic · 3 years

Text

Strength

An Ikesen Mitsuhide fanfiction, approx. 2000 words. This scene occurs toward the end of Ch. 12 in the romantic route.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: The Greatest Harm

Mitsuhide found Motonari in gambling house, as expected, but at the promise of violence to come, he was easy to persuade.

“We’re gonna march on tha shogun tonight, huh? ‘Bout time. My gun is gettin’ rusty with all tha waiting!” Motonari walked beside the kitsune warlord, almost bouncing. “I can send my men over to get tha guns and powder in tha mornin’. It’ll take that long ta get there and set a camp. Too bad we can’t just rush tha castle an’ get tha party started tonight!”

It was strange to think the man genuinely enjoyed fighting. For Mitsuhide, battles and killing were a means to an end, but he never sought them out. Still, it was good at least that the pirate was on his side. He’d rather point this avatar of destruction at a target than to be the target.

“Yer awful quiet, fox. Get in a tiff with tha woman?” Mouri chuckled. “Can’t imagine why.”

Mitsuhide gave the pirate a thin, sharp smile. He couldn’t let the man goad him, not tonight. Not with so much on the line. “My little mouse is fine. It is not easy for her to stay here while I go to fight.”

“Huh. Ya sure that’s all?”

The man was too damn perceptive. But they said madmen often were. Mitsuhide chose to ignore the comment.

Kennyo was staying in a widow’s home at the edge of the market. Of course, Mitsuhide was not supposed to know that - but the abbot knew he knew, and his arrival should not overly alarm the demon monk.

He sped them in that direction. The sooner the three were on their way, the less chance to slip and break this fragile alliance. It had to hold until Ashikaga’s head left his body behind. That was what Mitsuhide focused on. Not the last look he’d shared with his little one. He couldn’t think about the tears in her eyes, or the way his heart felt torn in two when he considered leaving her behind.

“What are you doing here, kitsune?” Kennyo’s deep growl came from a shadowed walkway in front of a closed shop.

“Looking for you.”

The abbot stepped out into the moon’s silver glow. His scar was a black crevasse across his face, a crack in the universe through which hell could be seen. His eyes burned with a dark and lightless hate. “You came to betray me?”

“He came ta tell ya we’re leavin’! Time ta make tha shogun pay fer ruinin’ my fun.” Motonari put his hands on his hips and leaned back on his heels. “Ya comin’ er did ya decide ta tuck yer tail and go back ta prayin’?”

Kennyo growled, a low rumbled in his chest like distant thunder. “Demons do not pray, nor do good men pray for the deaths of others. If it is time, then let us go. In silence.”

Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow. “Do you need time to pack?”

“I have all my worldly possessions on me now. And what I need most is always to hand.” He tapped the bottom of his staff, and the dark street rang with the sound.

“Then I will meet you both at the edge of town when the moon touches the mountain tops.” Mitsuhide gave them a nod.

“Goin’ ta smooth things over with tha lady? Ya know if ya need some help, I -”

“Will be silent because your voice grates my nerves as surely as a stone in my sandal.” Kennyo interrupted Mouri with a grimace.

Mitsuhide gave the monk a look of gratitude before hurrying off to the inn.

His little one was gathering the last of his things when he arrived. And seemed in much better spirits. She even smiled as he came in, though there was still an edge of sadness to it. “Everything is packed and ready to go.”

“Good. Mouri will be sending people for the guns tomorrow. Be ready.”

“I will.”

There were a thousand things he wanted to say in that moment. Promises he couldn’t keep. Words of love that would only make it hurt more to be apart. Mitsuhide was good at speaking - when he was playing a role. When it was the truth of his own heart, he found it hard to put the feelings into words. He was no poet. Not like Yoshimoto.

His eyes went to the floor, where the letter had fallen. It wasn’t there anymore, but he spotted the creased paper soon enough. Sitting on the desk, open. Was that the reason for her mood? Had Yoshimoto’s poetries cheered her where he could only seem to make her cry?

In silence, he picked up his things and together, they went to saddle the horses. They, at least, seemed happy to finally be traveling somewhere. Being cooped up in the stables was hard on war-trained mounts.

“Can I come with you? As far as the meeting point?”

Mitsuhide nodded. “Of course.” He couldn’t help the bitter twist to his smile. “I wouldn’t deny you that.”

Neither of them said much on the ride through town. The air felt heavy, and it seemed wrong to push sound out into that darkness. Though unspoken words churned in his chest.

The chatelaine looked lost in thought as she rode. Her posture in the saddle, relaxed. Her eyes forward, looking at some distant point and trusting her mount to navigate the empty streets. It made Mitsuhide proud to see how far she’d come. How much she learned. He held back the compliment though, worried what other words would escape with it, should he speak.

Soon enough, they passed the city gates. The last of the dim torchlight fell behind them, and ahead lay only rolling fields and an endless expanse of stars. Mitsuhide felt lost in it. He had messed this up, as he’d known he would. Giving his love only tears. If Yoshimoto could make her smile with only words on a paper . . . perhaps . . .

The dark figures of Motonari and Kennyo took shape in the darkness ahead. Their horses stood in the field nearby, heads down and grazing. Mitsuhide stopped as they got close enough to make out their allies’ faces. He turned to his little one, feeling brittle like rusted iron. “This is as far as you may come. Turn your horse and go back to the inn.”

Not the parting words of a lover but right now he couldn’t trust himself to be himself. He needed this mask. The kitsune warlord, heartless and cold. It would hold him together. It had to.

“I will.”

Motonari scoffed. “Is that all yer gonna say? Ya know, in tha west they kiss to say goodbye. Ya should try it! Maybe slip her some tongue -”

“Keep your vulgar thoughts to yourself,” Kennyo rumbled. “Your bellowing is disturbing the horses.” He threw the pirate an icy glare. Without looking away from Mouri, he said, “Mitsuhide - we will go on ahead. Do not keep us waiting.” Then he grabbed Mouri’s arm and pulled him toward their mounts.

Mitsuhide didn’t know if he should be grateful or resentful of the courtesy. Now he was alone with his love, and his heart trembled near to shattering. Conflicting emotions tore at him. Jealousy and worry, love, anxiety, doubt . . . he couldn’t let any of it show.

His little one dismounted, beckoning for him to follow. Reluctantly, he did.

Her face was angelic in the starlight. Like a spirit. The silver moon shone in her eyes as she looked up at him. “Mitsuhide, I want you to have this.”

It was hard to look away from her beauty to see what she held. When he did, his eyes widened. “This -!” The bellflower hairpin. He felt stunned, frozen in place. What did this mean? Why? His gaze lifted to meet hers.

She reached for him with her empty hand and touched his cheek. “This is my prayer for victory. Kyubei told me that’s what it symbolizes.” She pressed it into his hand. “I want you to keep it with you while we are apart. Don’t lose it though! It’s my only precious bellflower.”

Her smile was radiant.

“You are a wonder.” Mitsuhide could not stop a tear escaping his eyes, but she wiped it away with her thumb before it could fall. “I thought . . . I thought you would wish me goodbye in tears. Or -” Or tell him she’d had enough of this life, that the shadows around him were more than she could take.

His little mouse nodded. “I might have but I came to a few decisions about myself. Most importantly, that I’m tough enough to be by your side no matter what.”

He blinked. “You . . . decided that as you packed? And . . . read that letter?”

“Yep.” She laughed softly. “It’s funny, actually. I was beginning to doubt myself. I am not the kind of strong you are. I am not a warrior. But I am strong like me - you taught me that. To trust myself and my ideals.”

Her eyes were so warm, and Mitsuhide felt himself leaning into her touch.

“That letter from Yoshimoto reminded me of the things I’ve done. And all the lessons you taught me so that I could survive in this world. We make each other stronger.”

Mitsuhide put his arms around her, still holding the bellflower hairpin tightly. “All of that, you decided in such a short time, hm?”

She laughed again and nuzzled his chest. “It was already inside me, I’d just forgotten how to use it. And now I can access that strength when I need to.”

He stroked her hair, enjoying the closeness. His heartbeat was thundering in his chest, but the anxiety was fading. Leaving behind it only his love for her and the promise of a life together. How had he lost sight of that, even for a moment?

“I want you to remember your strength too. You don’t need to burn yourself out to protect me. Use your strength to fight your hardest. I will be here, waiting for you. Safe.”

Mitsuhide whispered her name into the night, full of his love for her. His heart in each syllable.

“Make sure you come back to me, Mitsuhide.”

His lips curled up in a genuine smile. “You surprised me again, little one.” He pulled away enough to see her expression. “Instead of tears, my weepy little mouse wishes me good fortune. With a smile like the sun.”

“Hey! Did you call me weepy?” Her laughter rang out, fierce and full of joy. “I’ll make you weep for that!”

“Mmm, and it is that fiery tongue and heart that never breaks that made me fall in love with you. Thank you for reminding me.” He tucked the bellflower beneath his armor to keep it safe. Then lifted her hand to his lips to press a kiss to her wrist, feeling the beat of her heart through her warm skin. It matched the rhythm of his own.

She shivered at the touch and her cheeks pinked. A reaction he loved to see. It made him wish for homecoming sooner rather than later.

“You’ve shown me resolve, beloved. And as your future husband, I must show you I can do at least as much. I will return to you.”

His little one studied his face for a moment, her eyes bright. “I love you.”

“You should save those words for my return.” He felt his grin widen but he couldn’t help himself. “Because when I do, I will give you cause to say them so much that you grow tired of repeating yourself.”

He pulled her close once more, wanting to feel her warmth a little longer. Only knowing that Kennyo and Motonari stood a little ways off stopped him from doing more than holding her. “I promise you,” he said softly, his breath tickling her ear, “when I return, I will tease you mercilessly. I will tease you until all you can think of is my touch. And I still won’t stop . . .”

She took a deep, trembling breath. “I am looking forward to it. And you know . . . you aren’t the only one that can tease!” Then she stepped back. “I should let you leave. Good luck, Mitsuhide.”

His smile held his gratitude and love. With one last wave, he watched her mount her horse and turn back for the city gates.

“That’s one wide grin yer wearin’” Motonari chuckled as he approached. “Ya slipped her some -”

Kennyo’s growl cut him off before he could finish. “Speed and silence.”

“Yes, let’s not keep the shogun waiting,” Mitsuhide agreed. He should have been tired, but he felt full of vigor. This would not be easy - but he knew they could do it.

The three men mounted and rode into the night.

Next: Siege

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #ikemen mitsuhide #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #light angst

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themadauthorshatter · 3 years

Text

... I think you guys are going to like this.

358/2 Days REWRITE Part 2

Riku is around, but he's all over the place, and he has a mission: Find and capture either Roxas or Xion, unless he CAN manage both, so DiZ can use them to help Sora recover. He's on a time limit, though, because Sora's heart is damaged and the longer Roxas and Xion are around, the less likely Sora is to waking up or even sleeping; I mean, he'll BE sleeping, but it'll be much quieter and it will be absolutely pointless to try waking him up.

For the first few days or months, he keeps his distance, trying to decide who he's picking, sadly.

Pros of bringing Roxas to DiZ: He has the closest connection to Sora, being his nobody, he's got the keyblade, Riku can probably take him one v. one, if there are any problems, he just needs to get a reaction out of 'Sora.'

CONS of bringing to Roxas to DiZ: Have fun trying to run from the remaining Organization members, he'll have to avoid Non-form or he'll get beaten all to Hell, he runs the risk of hurting his friend for reals, Roxas is rarely alone, Roxas is one hell of a runner and fighter, he'll just feel bad.

Pros of bringing Xion to DiZ: She has more 'keyblade' potential, maybe her voice will help wake up Sora(?), she looks and sounds like Kairi, Naminé gets a new friend(as long as DiZ doesn't decide to throw her away).

CONS of bringing Xion to DiZ: She looks and sounds like Kairi, she's crazy skilled, she hits hard, she's laughable when she's mad, but it's gut wrenching to see her cry or be hurt, she looks and sounds like Kairi, Naminé is probably getting Thanosed when DiZ is done with her because he's a dick right now, so giving Xion to her as a friend will mean nothing, the connection to Kairi, he'll feel bad.

As you can tell, Riku is great at making decisions(sarcasm)

While he's too caught up to do anything, let's check on the sea salt trio, who are getting closer as friends, i.e. seeing Hayner, Pence, and Olette do stupid stuff a KH equivalent of TikTok, which the trio repeats on their own without a phone recording them, eating ice cream, talking, and exploring the Disney worlds for fun, both old ones and new ones that will appear in future games.

In this time, Xion becomes a mix of Kairi and Naminé, outspoken, but careful with who she runs her mouth to, smart, but still open to learn, protective and still needs something if a protector, etc. She is also a wickedly fast learner.

We also get organization shenanigans like Demyx being lazy on missions, Roxas getting annoyed at Xigbar for calling him tiger, dealing with Saïx, trying not to annoy Xaldin, even getting head pats from Xemnas, and, for fluff, Roxas and Xion finding Axel asleep on the floor of the clock tower and the two scaring him away for shits and giggles.

Yes, a lot of time passes, about 9-11 months, give or take.

Roxas and Xion also become closer as well with Axel being something like their chaperone, only he reports to Xemnas and Saïx.

Speaking of Saïx, he meets up with Axel one day and expresses disdain with the fact Axel would rather be friends with an unstable Roxas and a literal puppet that doesn't even exist.

Axel, on edge already with Xemnas on his back, tells Saïx to put a cork in it. Saïx only pushes back, asking if Roxas even KNOWS what Xion is, even what HE is. To both their credit, the two are wonderful at playing make believe and Axel, being the child he is, is a great at being their playmate.

Axel shoves Saïx back, snapping for him to shut his mouth before he says something he'll regret. Saïx, losing his composure, shoves back, asking if he should because Axel can't handle the truth; he never has been good at it, so it's not surprising.

Ring a bell, someone, please, because Axel throws a punch into Saïx's cheekbone. Saïx returns with a left hook directly to the side of the neck and knees Axel, who grabs his leg under his knee and rolls, making them both fall and throw more punches on the ground, bruising and bloodying each other in full view of the remaining organization members. Maybe we get a gag of Xigbar and Luxord placing bets on who will win, Demyx worrying because they should probably be stopped, Xaldin scoffing at the immature display, and then Roxas and Xion walking in and instantly getting worried because Axel is not winning this fight, as evidenced by Saïx slamming his head into the floor.

When the two stand up to keep fighting, Roxas and Xion race between them, the boy in front of Saïx and a very nervous Xion in front of Axel, who tells her and Roxas to stay out of this or they'll get hurt.

Roxas obviously refuses, but Xion leads Axel away from Saïx, who asks if Axel really needs children to protect him.

No, he needs to protect these two idiots, especially Roxas, who hasn't moved and his eyes have gone Non-form-y, like he's about to transform.

Saïx returns with berserker eyes and smashes Roxas into the wall by his neck, daring him to try it.

It draws a gasp from EVRYONE, even Xaldin, but Saïx scoffs that they shouldn't try pretending to be worried, what with how unstable and how much of a nuisance Roxas is, not too mention weak, which he says while watching Roxas try to break free. He kicks at Saïx, and misses, but Saïx smirks and summons his claymore, wanting to see how tough Roxas really is.

There's a reason Xion pulled Axel away and is so nervous, because said reason puts a hand on Saïx's shoulder and asks him if he enjoys this façade of a life and would rather not disappear.

Yep. Xemnas is here, and everyone backs down, including the the bet making Xigbar and Luxord, who so they can have deniability.

Saïx snaps out of berserk mode in the blink of an eye and begrudgingly lets go of Roxas, i.e. lets him drop down.

Axel and Xion start toward him, but freeze when Xemnas eyes them, like scary eyes.

He has an announcement: There's an imposter and he could be anywhere. He's in a coat just like everyone else's, but his hood's usually up. When he's not wearing it, he's a silver haired teen. Oh, yeah, and his name is Riku.

Axel, Roxas, and Xion all gasp, Axel because Riku was in Castle Oblivion and probably knows where Sora is and Roxas and Xion because it brings back memories from Sora.

Xemnas sees the reaction, but only focuses on Roxas, asking softly if he's okay and if he was hurt.

He's fine and he wasn't and he shakes his head to chase away Non-form.

Xemnas still helps him up and orders everyone to keep their eyes open and report ANYTHING on this imposter because the sooner they catch and... well, just catch him, the better, that part being Xemnas not wanting to upset Roxas, make him go into Non-form, and have everyone need to knock him out to calm him down.

Xemnas takes Roxas away to be checked on, in case he was really hurt and doesn't know it, and Roxas asks what will happen to Saïx and Axel for fighting. He didn't see a lot of it, so he’s not even sure who started it.

They’ll be 'interviewed' and reprimanded accordingly, but they won't die, so relax.

What about the imposter? Who's Riku? And who's Sora??

Xemnas stops checking on Roxas and puts a hand on his head, which he doesn't need to worry about because the organization can deal with it. All he needs to do is keep doing missions and giving his 100%. Roxas sighs that he IS, hell he's giving 150% because Non-form's acting up, but he's kept it calm, even with the hallucinations of Sora, Ven, and now Non-form.

Xemnas finishes checking for any wounds and commends Roxas, saying that is why he chose him. Before Roxas can ask, Xemnas tells him to go in the lobby because he has a mission with Xaldin.

Roxas does so and passes by and reassuring Axel and glaring Saïx, though Roxas glares back.

Xemnas has the two sit down and that warmth he had with Roxas is GONE IN A SECOND, asking both of them what they were thinking, picking a fight in front of everyone and endangering the two most vital components to the plan. Saïx jabs that Axel is letting himself be distracted while Axel states he's doing his job and doesn't want either of them to get upset or angry to the point of dysfunctionality. Besides, He did not start that fight, which he didn't even WANT to partake in.

Does Axel have legs? For now he does, yes. Can he stand? Yes. Can he DEMONSTRATE that he can stand? This is getting tedious, but sure, and Axel stands. Now can he walk from where he is to the far wall? Again, this is tedious, but yes.

If he did ALL OF THAT, why didn't he actually do it?

With no words, Xemnas dismisses Axel, telling him to accompany Xion on their mission.

Axel nods and leaves Saïx to be scolded.

We cut to Riku as he watches Roxas and Xaldin fight of heartless and some knights in Beast's Castle, maybe even go toe to toe with Beast himself, who manages to catch Roxas off guard and momentarily confuses him with Sora.

Xaldin knocks him away and the two leave, Riku coming out and asking if that smaller nobody really was Sora.

Beast admits it was a spur of the moment, but he could have sworn it was Sora.

Meanwhile, Xion and Axel fight hard in Hollow Bastion, squaring off against Squall, Yuffie, Tifa, and Cloud, where we see both more of Axel's gymnastics and Xion's ability with a keyblade.

The fight ends when Xion stops who she believes is Riku the imposter and chases after him, Axel following her in case shit hits the fan.

Xion follows Riku to a cliffside and he gives her an offer and a warning: either give him Roxas or hope that they never meet face to face again. Xion arms herself and demands to know what that means, but Riku also arms himself right as Axel throws a chakram between them and tells Riku to fuck off before he gets hurt.

Riku gives Xion one last glance before falling off the edge and leaving through a dark corridor, making it look like he just disappeared like a badass. They’re both confused, but still call it a day, Xion asking if Axel is okay after that fight with Saïx, because he’s still a little banged up. He expresses he’s fine(he’s a big boy!!) and tells Xion not to worry.

She’s going to anyway because Riku is after Roxas, and threatened her with a fight if she didn’t bring Roxas to him. Axel, although he’s shook, tells her everything will be fine.

LIES, because Xion is sent on a mission to defeat Riku. All she needs to do is knock him out and they’ll come collect him, no problem.

Xion IS strong, but not strong enough because Riku wipes the floor with her and is about to take her to DiZ when dusks, samurai, and Non-form Roxas, who also gets whooped, but at least fairs a little better.

The two wear Riku out enough for a lance to graze his arm, an arrow/bullet to hit his leg, and a few cards to distract him.

The rest of the organization arrive, even Saïx and Xemnas, the latter using thorn/vine things to bind Riku’s hands behind his back.

He remarks that Riku’s a lot bigger than he thought he would be, stronger too, and we get one of those creepy manga Xemnas moments as he grabs Riku, pulls him close by the jaw, and states he’ll have fun seeing just how strong he is; he knows that Riku is hiding Sora, Kairi, DiZ, and his witch, and will tear him apart with his bare hands to know where they are.

With Riku thoroughly freaked out, Xemnas stands and everyone returns, all tired and ready to find Sora.

Xion, however, isn’t. Because Riku said some very interesting things to her during their fight.

She considers telling Roxas, but he’s too worried making sure she’s okay, because Riku was tough. She goes to Axel instead, knowing he has a key to the dungeons, and he’s instantly skeptical; she asked if he could take her to see Riku. Xion lies through her teeth and says she just wants to rub in Riku’s face that they won and he lost.

Axel agrees, but decides he’s going to follow her, just in case.

They arrive as Xigbar leaves, asking if they’re going to welcome the new arrival and need help in doing so.

Xion counters that she’s actually going to return a favor and would like to do it alone.

Axel’s surprised and Xigbar whistles for her to stand down; he was just asking because she got kicked like a soccer ball, no harm in asking for help.

He leaves and Xion goes toward Riku’s cell, asking Axel to stay by the door until she’s done.

He does so and Xion walks towards Riku’s cell, where she and we the audience see Riku is banged up from being interrogated; looks like Xemnas is taking his time.

Riku asks what she wants and Xion responds with a deal:

Tell her about Sora and she’ll give the organization a good enough lie to let him go so he can help Sora. During their fight, the two had an argument, Xion saying she was going to protect her friend and Riku snapping she had no idea what friends were because she’s a nobody and a replica, and the reason Sora can’t wake up.

Spark Notes of the deal: If Riku tells Xion about Sora, Xion will give the organization an answer that will buy Riku enough time to get back to Sora.

Fair, but he has one condition: If he tells her, she was to decide what she will do; he’s not refusing because she genuinely wants to know more about Sora.

Xion agrees and Riku tells her to take a seat, because they’re going to be here for a while.

#kingdom hearts #kh roxas #kh axel #kh xemnas #kh xion #sea salt trio #kh riku #kh saix #kh 358/2 days #rewrite #there will be a part 3 #violence tw #picking on the little guy

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yourbuerokrat2 · 2 years

Note

I have the song The Wicked & The Blind by The Dø on my dark!Qcard(which is a different playlist from my normal ones), thought about sharing it because this one might interest you, could be read as Q forcing Picard to ascend!

Ok, but this does fit a scenario for dark!Qcard perfectly:

The first part also sounds like it is also coming a bit from the Continuum.

Possible scenario:

Q made a deal with the Continuum. He will 'behave' in the future if only they are willing to grant Picard the status of a Q (even if he doesn't want to). And perhaps one of the reasons the Continuum agress is because after a few Trials they see Picards potential

So the first strophe is the Continuum talking to Picard for the most part.

"You have been chosen by the sun. We'll take you out to grab the stars."

The Continuum comes by probably in his quarters to tell him of their decision and even tell him, that it was Q who 'chose' him. And that they have come to free him of this mortal life and body to come out to the 'real' universe and 'grab the stars'.

"There is no time to say goodbye."

Is really just so sad, because to the rest of the crew the Captain would be gone with no note and no goodbye. Maybe after a fruitless argument he even asks them, if he could become a Q and still remain as captain.

Which both the Continuum and Q tell him isn't possible. And he doesn't need them. He doesn't need his family in France, his job and he won't need his crew.

After all he now has Q and to a lesser extent the Continuum.

"Here is your new family."

Still, Picard wouldn't want to go. Slowly losing their patience, the Qs start the transformation.

"No need to pack don't ask again."

The last thing Picard sees and hears is Q, as Q tells him with a strange look on his face

"Grateful you shall learn to be my friend."

Because I love how distorted the 'my friend, my friend' comes I see this as what Q tells Picard while he changes him from a human to a Q.

Still, maybe it's Picard rejection of him even as a Q or Qs bad conscience or desperation is catching up to him.

Because really, he does not want Picard to be miserable. It's just that this is the best for both of them.

Now they can be together forever. Picard will never know pain, suffering or death ever again. And Q in turn will never be alone again.

So in an outburst after Picard ignoring him or them having a fight about Picard not wanting to be a Q, Q offers rather desperatly that he will give Picard anything that he has and is.

"I will give you everything. All my belongings and treasures found."

Still, it doesn't exactly mean much, because Picard is now also a Q and can therefore get everything himself.

And Q sees that this offer is meaningless, even if he were to offer up the universe itself or an entire universe made just for Picard

"Sand and water is all I can offer. For the moment but"

and here another idea strikes Q. There is really only another thing Q could give Picard in the hopes that he will finally accept him and love him back.

"I will change."

The following strophe is once again the Continuum.

Maybe Picard tries to pretend that he is still human (enjoying Shakespeare, playing the flute, etc.) and ignoring the duties and rules that come from being a Q.

And maybe Picard tries to ignore the Continuum, which is not something that is really allowed.

Picard is now one of them and perhaps he needs to be shown what that means.

It is not even done in a malicious way. They just think, that Picard needs this to adjust to his new, better and overall perfect existence.

And luckily he has them, his new 'family', to help him along.

"Trust us we will show you the way.

Before we start make sure you learn every rule by heart."

The Continuum thinks that it will help, if Picard stopped going back to his old human habits and earth culture.

"We saw you dance and we heard you sing

You shall keep quiet and still"

Still apparently that doesn't help, because they can feel his mind wander to Shakespeare, Starfleet, his crew, etc.

And it's Q, who is jealous that now that he thought he had him he still has to share him with Earth and Starfleet. That even though he has made him a Q and that now Picard can see how much he occupies Qs very being, Picard still ignores him. Maybe even tries to keep his distance (because he is understandably creeped out, but Q refuses to see that)

Q has given his loyalty to the Continuum for him, Q has saved his life, Q has given him the powers of a god and still Q is not Picards priority, still Picard loves so many other people and things more than him.

So Q comes to the Continuum asking for another favor. That he finally gets the same place in Picards life as Picard holds in his.

"And all the books and all the music will be thrown into the fire."

"Forget your knowledge, forget the past. You were somehow born today."

They can't really make Picard forget himself, because he is also Q and by nature omniscient and all-knowing.

What they can do is both better and worse.

They don't make him forget the experiences itself, but erase all connection to it. Which means, every time Picard remembers his time on the Enterprise, reads a book of Shakespeare or hears Mozart, he is met with nothingness.

It's almost as if his entire life up to the point he became a Q happened to someone else and he is remembering a movie he once saw.

When he remembers Jack, Beverly and Riker, there is nothing in his emotions that make him even remember that there was once a meaningful connection between them.

So in a way, he feels like he truely was 'born' in a way the day he became a Q, because there is just a gray shadow hanging over his memories and what he remembers he once used to enjoy.

Really, the only one he is feeling anything towards anymore is Q.

The emotions he is feeling for Q seem to make up for the missing emotions.

He is angry at Q, absolutely furious in the coldest way, for having done this to him.

But still he can't leave him, because Q is literally the only person he has left in the entire universe, at least as far as he knows.

And he pities Q.

Because it still isn't enough for Q.

Q wants to have him and be loved by him.

And he is willing to give and do anything for this to happen.

Again and again he offers Picard anything.

"I will give you all I ever owned All my belongings and Treasures found Sand and water is all I can offer For the moment but"

He even offers himself completely.

To change himself to whomever Picard would like him to be.

If he has to he will change his entire personality, his looks, his everything. In the hopes that Picard might be willing to love the person he will be then enough to at least give him a kiss.

"I shall change Change for good Time will tell What I'm worth Kiss the change."

Perhaps there is even a part of Q that feels bad about having done this to Picard.

He is not willing to let him go and undo what he has done, but he still feels like he owes Picard the world.

So he offers to not only change the universe and himself, but to do anything.

Doesn't matter what it would be. As long as it would help him to 'reach' Picard and get closer to him, than he is willing to do it.

"To please you Lie and hate To show you Kill and die To fit you Anything To reach you"

#qcard

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

Ashes Chapter 5: The Three Day Hike

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

Oh, what was that you said about progress? Liu reveals what you could only guess and you reveal a deep secret that's been eating you alive. It doesn't go well.

A/N: I love writing you yelling at each other and then having deep emotional baggage moments Lol. I also just love angst, idk. I just do. It's fun to make characters hurt! Hope you guys are doing well. Smooches. As always, open to suggestions for nonsense.

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

A wall of shadow rose into the heavens above, melting into the clouds, and spreading darkness like ink through veins. Red light shone through the gaps in the clouds and the ground began to freeze before your feet. Kung Lao’s face was just before yours. His familiar long face, broad jaw, worry in his dark eyes, all things you missed so desperately. You touched his cheek and his skin turned gray beneath your fingertips.

“Wake up, Y/N.” He begged you and your fingers froze. Ice crackled over your palm and spread up your arm. “Please.” He grabbed your shoulders and you gasped at the feeling of cold in your chest, sudden and violent. Shutting your eyes tight you tried to breathe but when you opened them, you were in the little cabin, tucked neatly into bed, the bag with Kung Lao’s trinket in your arms.

You were alone in the cabin and trembling, so you pulled the bag closer to comfort you. A nightmare, of course. You’d had them a thousand times since he’d died but this felt different. Your hands were stained with ink and that worried you too. Kung Lao had been so desperate to wake you up and the imagery had been so obscure and yet specific. You’d suffered a curse of visions once, but Raiden had helped you through it. It had been worse when you were a kid but back then it had disappeared after a few years too. You’d grown out of it.

This hadn’t been a vision, right? Not in any way that you could interpret. It was just you missing Kung Lao and feeling guilty for living without him. Probably feeling guilty for sleeping with Liu Kang. And feeling guilty for making it harder on him.

Guilt. That was to blame.

You got ready for the day and slung your bag over your shoulder and stepped outside the cabin. The sun was shining and it was unseasonably warm. Liu Kang sat near the door in the grass meditating. That was much more like the Liu Kang you were used to. You smiled. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad. Last night had been nice. Even a little comforting.

“They offered us supplies for the hike. We should grab some before we go. Food at least.” You greeted him and he heaved an annoyed sigh and looked to you as if frustrated that you’d interrupted him. “Sorry-“

“I’m good.”

“…but it’s a… three… day….” You began and he returned to his meditation without hearing you out. Never mind. Bitchy Liu Kang was back. So much for that. You bit you tongue and decided it best to leave him be. There was no point in fighting so early in the morning. You were too shaky from your nightmare and had bigger things to think about than hot and cold Liu Kang. It was like he’d borrowed Kung Lao’s ego to make up for the loss of his brother. “Fine.” You went on your way. If he wanted to be a moron about it, then you would let him be a moron.

Once away from the intoxicating stink of Liu Kang, you felt much better. The people of the village were exceedingly kind and generous. You took only what you thought you would need for your journey and a day’s extra just in case something went wrong. Both you and Liu were resourceful so if you got into a pinch, you would manage. He’d trained his whole life for survival, and you’d gotten pretty good at it since coming to Raiden’s Temple.

You packed up the supplies and then thanked them again for their hospitality before heading out of town with Liu who was silent the whole time. He didn’t even say goodbye. It was going to be a long hike if he continued like this. You wished that Raiden would have just sent you alone. He had the foresight to know that it would be uncomfortable. Then again, you weren’t sure just how much Raiden knew of your complicated history. He was a god, what was he aware of? You didn’t know and you didn’t want to ask. You did kind of want to shake him and cry though.

Liu was infuriating for the rest of the day as if he were making up for being nice the night before. You’d fought about every crossroad. Fought about when to eat. When to sleep. When to take a break. What kind of tree was on the hill. Everything. Every time one of you opened your mouths it was a fight. He couldn’t be blamed for all of the annoying arguments. You were annoyed too and every so often you caught yourself saying things that you hadn’t meant to say in a tone that was far harsher than you’d meant it to be. You supposed one good conversation wouldn’t eliminate two months of snippiness and one wild night of passionate lovemaking gone wrong.

You tried to remind yourself that Raiden had known you were both grieving and had probably hoped that you would work through some of your grief together. You could picture him saying it. But you also could have strangled him by the end of that first day. On the second morning, you’d meditated on it and decided to focus on patience. You would try to listen to Liu Kang’s suggestions and come to an agreement with him rather than argue with him. But that only worked if Liu wasn’t picking a fight with you. Which he was. He was absolutely picking fights with you. Why was beyond you.

By the second night you were out of patience and had no grace left to deal with him. You had agreed upon a path that morning and he was changing it for the fifteenth time that day. You were tired. The more tired you became, the more aggressive he did. His attitude had drained you and so had the hike. So had the fighting. “If we go up this path then we can shave off some time.”

“Or we could get stuck again and end up backtracking for six hours and since you wouldn’t come with me to get supplies, we’ll run out. Then we’ll have to forage and waste even more time. Is it so much to ask that we just stick to the damn plan?” You were snippy again but tried to check your tone by the time you’d finished speaking.

“You can do whatever you want. I’m going this way.”

That was the problem. Your fighting was less like fighting and more him just being stubborn and obnoxious. You threw your bag down and marched in front of him to stop him from walking. That was it. The proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. “What is your problem? What is going on with you?” He was taken aback, surprised by your harsh tone. “I get it, Liu. You’re grieving. But you know what? I’m grieving too and your attitude the last couple of days? It’s absurd. You’re being a child. A petulant brat. Here I thought we’d made some headway and then you double down on being a bastard. You have to argue about every single thing. Every single decision is a fight! Then when I’m right you just don’t listen to me! You march off and do your own thing, which would be fine if you were alone or in charge. But you’re not either of those things.”

“Y/N, I…” He was stiff. Rigid.

“It’s exhausting! You are exhausting me! So, please, enlighten me and tell me why it is that you insist on being this exhausting! Why do you keep belittling me and then going out of your way to make this journey so much harder than it already is? We used to be a good team, I thought. We talked, I thought. You even kind of look at me with a little pity before you just…” You clasped your fists and let out a sound of frustration and then felt the blood pressure in your head as you finally breathed. Oops.

Liu was looking down at you, jaw clenched and you expected him to yell at you and correct you on what you thought like he’d done all those years ago when you’d been sleeping together. Your heart raced again as he looked you over.

“Every time I look at you, I see how hurt you are. How much worse I make it.”

You swore steam was coming out of your ears.

“How the fuck is you being an asshole helping any of that?”

“Maybe it’s easier for me to be mean. To argue with you. Maybe it’s better than watching you suffer for the same reasons I’m suffering on top of losing my best friend. And having to remember that I lost you to him in the first place.”

“Oh, don’t you dare.”

“Then thinking about the other night and…”

“Liu, I swear. Don’t do this shit. Don’t. Just don’t.” You pointed an angry and accusatory finger at him and tapped his chest with each of your next words. “Don’t turn this into that. Don’t.”

“You’re the one who got all high and mighty and asked why. I answered.”

“I came to you.” You had not expected to have this conversation with Liu in the middle of the woods or really ever. “I came to you before I gave him an answer. Don’t you dare make me feel guilty about that. I gave you a chance and you were a complete dick. Like wildly…. A dick!” You stuttered in frustration.

“I was a dick, huh?” He laughed in disbelief, rubbed his hand over his jaw, then walked away from you. He returned and pointed at you and then with a smack of his lips he threw his hand in the air as if to say fuck it. “Kung Lao came to me before you did. So yeah, I was a dick.”

“Excuse me?” You did a double take. What was that supposed to mean? Some of your anger deflated.

“Kung Lao… came to me… before… you… did.” He spoke slowly as though you’d had trouble understanding what he’d said. You could have smacked him right in the mouth. “He was already head over heels for you. How was I supposed to compete with that? Asked me if I was working up to something with you since you hesitated to tell him yes. I was honest… to an extent. Didn’t tell him that we’d already been there and done that for months.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was asking to be slapped. Just the way he chose his words and the bite that he spoke them with. It took every bit of your restraint not to just smack him to shut him up.

“I told him I was attracted to you and I’d been thinking about it. Kung Lao asked me to step aside because he thought he could love you.” Liu deflated a little too. The anger he’d built had petered out. Talking about Kung Lao drained him. You were still mad but also shocked. You were lost between being floored by this revelation and furious with his behavior. “So, I did, Y/N. I stepped aside.”

“And you had to be a real dick about it, huh?”

“Yeah. That’s why I was a dick. I watched that one conversation completely destroy our entire relationship. Our friendship.” Liu shrugged and looked suddenly exhausted. “Kung Lao deserved you more than I did. He was ready to jump in headfirst and I was just… nailing you.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and looked away from you but there was something smug about the way he phrased it. Then it was silent.

Where did you begin. Surprised? Confused? Hurt? Speechless? He’d crushed you. You’d thought that you’d had something tremendous and then he had made you feel cheap and worthless. You hated this conversation. You just wanted to be mad and move on. Accept that this wasn’t working and deal with it civilly. But the reasons it wasn’t working were too complicated. “You really hurt me.” You managed but your voice cracked and betrayed you. You were mad, dammit! Don’t cry, brain! You wanted to stomp off yelling about how he had some nerve dragging this baggage into the middle of a three-day hike, but you didn’t.

“It hurt me too, believe it or not.”

This couldn’t have gone worse. You supposed it actually could have but it felt pretty bad. To find out that it had been a lie after years of repeating it in your head? You were devastated. And you had to let it go. You didn’t know what would have happened if Liu had asked you to stay with him instead of being with Kung Lao and it hurt too much to theorize because that wasn’t what had happened. You loved Kung Lao. Your relationship had been far different than the one you’d had with Liu Kang, but you’d loved him nonetheless.

“I…” You began when you realized he was waiting for you to say something, almost desperately and that he had taken a step closer and invaded your personal space. “I’m sorry.” You were though you weren’t immediately sure what for. You just knew you were sorry. Sorry that you’d brought it up. Sorry that it had come to this. “That it wound up like this. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” Liu looked past you. “You and Kung Lao were happy for a time.”

“And what about you?”

“Does that matter?”

“Of course, it matters. We were friends first. Even when I was with Lao we were eventually close again.”

“Yeah, well, I was pissed at first. Mad at you. Mad at him.” He turned his gaze back to yours and dared to step closer which made you instantly on alert. It was obvious now that this had been on his mind for some time. You hadn’t considered yourself that important. There had been plenty of moments where things between you had been unsaid. You had never known and had no right to his innermost thoughts. That attraction had never burnt out. Even now, you were torn between smacking him and throwing your arms around him. “With time I realized that all I wanted was for you to be happy. You were happy, right?”

That was a probing question and you hated it. You meant to say yes. You had been happy, but instead you hesitated. Had you been? Of course, not all the time and things had been difficult the past few months, but Kung Lao’s memory was one that you would always cherish as having been happy. “Yeah. Yes.”

That had sounded terrible and forced.

Shit.

You walked away from him and sat down next to where you’d set your bag, defeated. Liu stood awkwardly before tapping a finger against his leg as if deciding if he wanted to pursue this conversation or return to the uncooperative mess that he’d been before. He sat next to you, leaving almost no gap between you. You were either going to have to remind him of your personal boundaries or get used to him being close.

“What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, Liu.”

“You hesitated like… in a really big way. Weren’t you happy?” He was watching you but when you turned to look at him, he turned away.

“I love…” You hadn’t gotten used to the change in tenses yet. It was painful to misspeak. “I loved Kung Lao, but we were in a weird place before this and I… I don’t know what would have happened. I can’t pretend I do. We fought a lot these last few months over stupid things. Over big things. Over nothing.” You teared up but fought it back. You were not going to cry in front of Liu Kang after he had been a complete ass for two days straight. “And then he died, Liu. And finding out was like losing a part of myself. Something I’ll never get back and must learn to live without. I don’t know what would have happened because that chance was stolen from me. And I won’t complain about it. I won’t… because you lost your brother and I lost… a boyfriend and there’s no comparison.” You hesitated on the words, and you hated that you were struggling to breathe out of your nose. “We’d been together for years but…” You drifted off. The guilt was too much. Did he really expect you to air all of your dirty laundry to him? And why were you? He’d been such a dick.

“But what?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“Did you do something bad?”

“That’s relative.”

“I can help be a deciding factor on that if you like.” He half-heartedly joked but even as he did, he groaned in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he rested his hand on your arm. “But what, Y/N?”

“I think I might hate you right now.”

“Don’t deflect.”

“Kung Lao proposed.” You hadn’t told anyone that. There was too much guilt for how it had happened. “Right before I left to run that errand.” Liu Kang shook his head as though you had doused him in cold water. “I told him no, not yet. I turned him down. I told him that we would talk more about it when I got back.” The guilt of turning him down and then having him wind up dead was unbearable. “I will live with that guilt forever. The look on his face when I didn’t jump for joy when he got down on one knee with a ring… oh I’ll never forget it.” You shook the image out of your head. You’d had nightmares about it on repeat. You should have just said yes and pretended it was a dream come true. That would have made him happy.

“I’m…” Liu Kang rubbed his temples then started again. “Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I meant what I said. We weren’t ready. We fought literally all the time. We had no clear vision of what our future looked like. We’d never talked about marriage or families or anything like that. On top of that, we were in a weird place. The tournament was coming and I… commitment makes me kind of itchy, you know? I felt like a villain, Liu. I feel like a villain. He just wanted to love me and tease me and be loved by me. That was it. It wasn’t more complicated than that for him.” You were proud of yourself for not breaking down into a sobbing puddle as you spoke. “And he died not knowing any of the reasons that I told him ‘not yet’. He died before we got to figure it out. That was all I wanted. Was time to figure it out. Time for us to just be and to figure out if it was right for us.”

“And now there’s no time.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t help it. You were going to cry. You closed your eyes and allowed the tears to gather and tried to keep them from falling. Liu was quiet and contemplative next to you. You’d both thrown huge revelations at each other. It was a lot to process.

You felt like a monster.

“You would have married him, huh?” Liu broke the silence, somewhat bravely you thought.

“I have no idea what I would have done because he’s gone and I’m alone.”

“You would have made him a very happy man.”

“Maybe. Even if I had, I don’t know if it would have made me happy and that kills me.”

“Yeah, that’s the tricky part, I guess.” Liu leaned his elbows on his knees. “You would have done it.”

“Bold of you to assume after everything.”

“I know you. You’re a people pleaser, Y/N.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on. You always folded when you and Kung Lao fought. Even with the big stuff, you just rolled over and let him have his way.”

“I am not arguing with you about this again especially not after losing him.” You’d had this fight before. Liu Kang had always tried to keep you from folding and stick to your guns. You had refused to talk to him about the personal stuff with Kung Lao but somehow Liu had always known when you were upset and managed to get it out of you. He’d always been there, you’d realized.

Guilt.

“If I had known it would end the way it did then I never would have once complained. I would have just made him happy for as long as I could.”

“So, what, only he got to be happy? You’re being ridiculous.”

“Liu Kang! I was happy!” You stared at him aghast. You had been happy. Most of your relationship had been incredibly happy. You’d fought and you’d been hurt sometimes, but that was normal.

“Yeah, except you weren’t sure if you were which is why you hesitated, right? That’s the real reason you turned him down.” There was that snippy tone again and you stiffened up as he grabbed your arm to turn you toward him. “At least have the guts to admit it, Y/N. Don’t fool yourself and definitely don’t try to fool me.”

“Fuck you, Liu.” You pulled your arm free.

“Yeah, that was probably part of the problem too, wasn’t it?”

You smacked him across the face and hard, then pulled your hand back to your chest, surprised you’d done it. He rubbed his jaw that immediately turned red and turned his gaze away from you, nodding his head slowly.

“I deserved that.”

You picked up your bag and walked away from him. You didn’t need this. You didn’t need him rubbing your failures and guilt in your face. You didn’t need him taking his complicated feelings and burying you in them. You didn’t need him making you second guess yourself. Kung Lao was dead. You wouldn’t dishonor his memory with this crap.

You weren’t sure how long you marched away for, but it had been long enough. Leaning your head back, you breathed, and fought tears that you knew you should just let out but god dammit, if Liu Kang followed you and found you crying then you would be furious. The last thing you wanted was his comfort right now. Besides, every time you got close like that you ended up naked and you couldn’t emotionally do that right now!

His comfort was double sided with guilt. There was no comfort for you like this. You leaned against a tree and held your bag close and closed your eyes. Sometime later, Liu Kang joined you but he didn’t try to talk to you even if you could feel him watching you. It took ages but you finally fell asleep, angrily holding your bag against your chest.

Next Chapter >>

#liu kang x reader #self insert #reader insert #liu kang #mk liu kang #mortal kombat movie #mortal kombat 2021 #ludi lin #liu kang/reader #liu kang x you #liu kang/you #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #romance #death #tension #grief #beauty through ash

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notalwaysthevillian · 3 years

Text

Brewing Love

Warnings: anti-LGBTQ allusions, kissing, crying

Pairings: Romantic Remile, Romantic LAMP

Word Count: ~1k

Read from the beginning!

Previous Chapter

Chapter 20

Glancing at the clock, Remy groaned. The red numbers stared at him.

1:00 AM

He’d been sleeping just fine for so long, but Emile had gone back to their childhood town to visit some old friends this weekend. They’d been sleeping together, in more ways than one, for so long that it was hard for Remy to sleep without them.

Which meant his insomnia had come back in full force. He had bad nights here and there, but cuddling up to Emile would keep him in bed, and eventually he’d go back to sleep.

But without his little cuddlebug here...he had fallen back into some old, very bad habits.

Like making coffee at 10 PM.

Which was why he was still up. He’d been researching bachelor parties for the last few hours, trying to figure out what to do for Logan’s. He knew his cousin like the back of his hand, but all he currently had was a list of vetos.

Anything at a bar - no

Anything involving sex toys - no

Stripper - absolutely not

There were so many items on the list, he wasn’t sure what to actually do for the party.

However, many of the “no’s” on Logan’s list were becoming “yeses” for his own bachelor party.

Inhaling a deep breath, Remy ran a hand through his hair. He should probably attempt to go back to sleep. Emile was bound to ask about his sleep schedule while they were gone. Despite not being their patient, Emile couldn’t help but slip his psychological knowledge into their everyday life.

And it was truly adorable.

His phone lit up, the screen nearly blinding him in the dark room.

Honey Bunches: If you’re still up, you need to go to sleep.

Before Remy could ask why Emile was awake, the phone lit up again.

Honey Bunches: I’m already asleep. This message was set to send at a certain time.

“Okay, okay.”

Shutting down his computer, Remy shuffled into the bathroom, got ready for bed, and then finally laid down. Chai yawned and stretched as he climbed into the bed, curling up by his feet.

“Thank god I don’t work tomorrow.”

Remy woke up the next morning to Chai complaining in his ear, wanting her breakfast. He flopped over and glanced at his phone.

7:00 AM

Grumbling, he quickly fed her before heading back to bed.

When he woke up the second time, he felt much more refreshed.

“Noon? Shit, I should eat something that’s not coffee.”

Heading out of the bedroom, Remy smelled something cinnamon-y from the kitchen. To his surprise, Emile was pulling cinnamon rolls out of the oven.

“Darling, not that I don’t want to see you, but I thought -“

“I’d rather not talk about it.” Emile interrupted, her voice shaky. “Can we just eat and snuggle?”

“As you wish.”

Drizzling too much icing on their cinnamon rolls, Remy grabbed the plate and took it to the living room, where Emile was making a blanket nest.

“I understand if you truly don’t want to talk about what happened. But I want you to know I’m here if you do. At any point.”

She stopped messing with the blankets, fisting her hands in them instead. Sliding his arms around her, Remy nuzzled into her neck.

“Cuddles first. I - I might be up for talking later. Maybe.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

They settled into their blanket nest, Emile leaning heavily into Remy as they ate their breakfast.

Setting their plates on the coffee table, Remy grabbed the remote and turned on a random episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender.

It happened to be the episode where Aang finds out the air temple had been wiped out.

The sniffles came before the tears. Emile wiped her face once, before deciding it wasn’t worth it. Instead she buried her face into Remy’s chest.

He held her close until she pulled back.

“I’m ready to talk now.”

His hands slid to her back, rubbing soothing circles. “Go ahead.”

“It was fine for a while.” She started, playing with her nails. “My friends and I met up and we were having a great time. They all accept me for who I am, so I wasn’t worried.”

“But one of their partners...she wasn’t very nice about it. She made mean comments under her breath, and no one else heard them. I didn’t want to make a scene so I didn’t say anything.”

“Then Bella, my friend since first grade, heard what she was saying. She was really angry, and they got into a big fight and broke up and it’s all my fault!”

The tears poured down Emile’s face as she buried her face into Remy’s chest again. He tightened his arms around her, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“It sounds like Bella is a good friend. I know you think it’s your fault, but she made her decision. She could’ve chosen to stay with her partner, but she chose to keep you as a friend instead. And I think she’s lovely for that.”

“You think so?”

“Anyone that doesn’t want you in their life is missing out on the most wonderful person on this planet.”

Blinking back her tears, Emile wrapped her arms around Remy’s neck, gently pulling him closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He leaned in, locking their lips together. She pulled back a moment later, a soft smile on her face. “You don’t work today right?”

“Nope.”

The smile brightened further. “Good! So we can either stay here and snuggle on the couch...orrrrr we can move to the bedroom.”

“¿Porque no los dos?”

A giggle rang out from Emile as Remy picked her up and carried her to his bedroom.

#brewing love #romantic remile #remy sanders #emile picani #sanders sides #sanders sides fic

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rosy-cheekx · 3 years

Text

I Want To Be A Real Fake

@kaiserkorresponds said: Black and White + "I want to be a real fake" + formal clothing <3

Prompted fic that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I received it! Hope you like it, Kaiser!

Jon would not consider himself fashionable. He has a distinct sense of style, yes, but that style lately has been Tired-Academic-Works-in-a-Cold-Office,-Steals-Sweaters-When-Necessary-core. Not exactly suitable for the business casual dress code The Magnus Institute “requires” (no one seemed to pay attention to the Archive staff’s choices of attire), but certainly not suitable for the small rectangle of cardstock Elias Bouchard hands him, on a quiet spring morning in the Archive.

“What’s…what’s this?” Jon asked, staring at the neat, printed text as if it was Greek. (If it were Greek, at least, he could decipher parts of it. He was an English Lit student, after all, and he had really enjoyed etymology.) The card was a stiff black and white, with the black owl logo, the symbol of the Magnus Institute, printed in the top middle. Glancing down at it, he saw a date, and the words: “black-tie.” Shit.

“My apologies, I forgot how tired your position tends to leave you.” Elias’s voice was prim and polite, but Jon still winced inwardly. “As a head of a department, you are now strongly encouraged to attend the fundraiser I host in April each year. Our donors are fascinated by our departments, and especially the Archives. Gertrude’s disappearance has raised questions as to her successor, and I trust you can assuage the concerns of our donors at your accomplishments in the position.” Jon chose to believe that Elias’s keen eye didn’t sweep the mountains of paperwork that surrounded his desk as he surveyed the small, poorly lit office. “I’m certain you’ll be able to find appropriate attire for the occasion.”

He turned on a heel, halfway to the door before seemingly considering something. “Ah, and Jon, one more thing. Gertrude always requested she bring an assistant. Would you like to do the same? I am happy to accommodate one more for the catering count.”

Jon snapped his mouth shut, utterly dumbfounded by the responsibility just thrust upon him, and nodded mutely, before clearing his throat. “Ah-um, yes, I would appreciate that. Does it matter which one?”

“Someone who can make a pleasant impression, please.” Elias raised an eyebrow, nodded almost imperceptibly, like he had made a decision, and rapped his knuckles on the doorframe on the way out. “I trust your judgement.”

Jon counted to thirty, to be certain Elias wasn’t coming back, and slouched into his office chair, scanning the save-the-date again, without the immense pressure of Elias’s eyes on him.

“The Magnus Institute Fundraiser Gala,” it read below the embossed owl, within a thin black border. “23 April, 7-10 pm. Black tie. Catered.” Jon traced the owl with the pad of his finger, flipping the card over to see, in Elias’s thin cursive: Make a good impression, Jon.

God, this is going to suck.

“Sasha, come on.” Jon wasn’t one to beg, but desperate times and all that. He had cornered her in the breakroom, while Martin was on a research trip and Tim was getting takeaway from the chippie down the street. “It’s only three weeks away, and you’re the one I trust the most. Please.”

“Jon,” Sasha sighed, smoothing her skirt patiently. “I would if I could, I swear to you. But my sister’s wedding has been planned for months, I’ve already requested time off, and I can’t undo all that for a work party.”

“Fundraiser,” Jon corrected instinctively, even as he signed in resignation. “Fine. I just really didn’t want to go alone.”

Sasha scoffed, shaking her head to herself as she opened the fridge and pulled out her bagged lunch. “You have two other assistants you know. What about Tim? Or Martin?”

Jon wrinkled his nose at the thought of bringing nervous, rambling, doe-eyed Martin to the gala. “God no. Martin would be too much; I need someone who can handle themselves and hold a decent conversation. I need someone who can attend a black-tie gala and look more at-home than me.” A withering look from Sasha.

“So why not Tim, then? He can do all those things.”

“Do all what things?” Jon jumped and spun around to see Tim, carrying a grease-spotted bag in one hand and a paper soda cup in the other. He surveyed Tim in a moment: the button-up shirt, red and printed with tiny black balloons, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, dark black hair artfully mussed. High cheekbones dotted with freckles, and what Jon swore could be the faintest bit of eyeliner.

“Tim, would you like to go to a fashionable, catered work party with me?”

“Boss,” Tim lowered himself to a knee and held out his soda solemnly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Tim, that’s backwards. The kneeler isn’t the one who accepts,” Sasha chuckles helpfully.

“You’re just jealous of our love, Sash!”

Good Lord.

Jon was really hoping the food would be good. He was in Tim’s flat, in the toilet, checking himself in the mirror one final time. His hair was carefully braided, courtesy of Tim’s deft hands and coiled into a thick bun at the base of his skull, gold and emerald hairpin snugly in place. His suit was nice: a respectable white shirt, dotted with tiny lime-colored flowers he had to strain his eyes to see, under a dark green suit jacket and matching trousers. The suit itself was cut in a rather androgynous style, pulling tight at Jon’s waist in a way he rather liked, and contrasted beautifully, he thought, with the smooth brown of his skin. He flicked an invisible piece of lint from his thigh and, satisfied, stepped into the hall to tell Tim he was ready to go.

“Tim, I’m all-woah,” the exhale was accidental. Tim’s suit was certainly not subtle. He was wearing a deep blue turtleneck, hair perfectly coiffed. Over the turtleneck, the suit jacket was white, a spray of water-color flowers in all shades of blue and purple shifting with every movement. The navy blue heeled suede boots on his feet accentuated his already-tall frame “Tim, you look good,” Jon breathed.

“Ouch. No need to sound all surprised. I know I clean up well; I dirty pretty damn good too.” Tim chuckled and adjusted his sleeves. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. ‘I don’t want anything too crazy.’”

Jon grinned shyly, rocking on his heels of his own, less intimidating dress shoes. “I like it, I think. It feels nice.” The excitement over how good he felt in the clothes had, all too briefly, suppressed the impending doom he was feeling about the evening’s events. “Are you ready for tonight?” he asked for what must have been the fiftieth time, spinning the solid black ring he wore around his finger.

“Yes, Jon. Talk about the reorganization process as a structural renovation, converting files to audio formatting for future accessibility, don’t talk about artefact storage even a little, don’t get caught up with anyone too pretty, I get it.” His voice was flat, bored by the repetition. “This is going to be fine.”

“What-what if it isn’t, though, Tim? What if they ask about Gertrude or how their money is being used, o-or how the restructuring is going? I can’t bloody well tell them I’m using a tape recorder that’s probably older than I am.”

“Jon,” Tim’s well-manicured hand was on his shoulder, nails the same blue of his turtleneck. “Take a deep breath. For Gertrude: be honest. It was a tragedy, and you hope she’s found, but until then you’re doing your best to act on her wishes as her replacement. And for the rest, be vague. Restructuring is going ‘as well as can be expected’ or ‘is running quite smoothly with the help of your three wonderful assistants.’” He winked. “And tell them you’re using a multimedia system, that’ll confuse those old boomers enough to move topics. And it is technically true. Laptops and a tape recorder are multiple medias. Anything else we can riff, you know? I can talk with the best of them.” He eyed Jon meaningfully. “This will be fine. It’s one night. And we’ll get chips after. Promise.”

Jon nodded and closed his eyes, breathing steadying. He was grateful Tim had been available. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“So, how did you know what black tie meant?” Jon asked, eyeing Tim across the seat of the cab. They’re on their way now and Jon’s hands are steepled tightly, pressing his fingertips against each other until it hurts to do so. “I had to Google it last week when I went shopping, in case we had to wear literal black ties.” He needed to talk about anything, anything but this stupid fundraiser they drove steadily towards.

Tim grew silent for a moment, considering his words. “My brother was an extra in a movie once and started dating a stylist for one of the leads. He fibbed his way into getting us tickets for premieres, so I’ve made my way through a few high-fashion events.” He shrugged, fiddling with a thin silver bracelet along his wrist, were Jon knew the letter D was carved in delicate cursive. “I like it, too, you know? Dressing up for events. It makes me feel debonaire, like a spy.”

Jon shook his head in disagreement. “Makes me feel fake,” he mumbled, eyeing the lorry floor beneath them. “Like everyone knows I don’t belong. I hate having their eyes on me and knowing they’re better than me.”

Tim prodded Jon with his elbow gently, raising his eyebrows in a comforting manner. “That’s it though, isn’t it? We aren’t fake. We worked our way here. Hell, you’re the boss of an entire department, Jon. We’ve gotten to where we are in the Institute because we deserve to be here. And anyways, everyone at that party next week is gonna be fake. They’re pretending to care about our jobs, and we pretend to care about their money, and they pretend they’re even the ones who write the checks and not some snooty financial advisor in Wales.”

Jon shrugged, trying to keep himself from biting back that he wasn’t enough, didn’t earn this spot, that Sasha deserved it more than he did and was doing nothing to prove to Elias he was up to the monumental task of being the Head Archivist. He didn’t, though, and instead took a steadying breath, nodding to Tim’s comforting words.

“And anyways,” Tim continued, shrugging. “Even if we have to be fake for a night, it’ll be fun. We get to be a part of ‘the queen’s high society,’” he added in a high-pitched, overly fake RP accent, eliciting a chuckle from Jon. “And Rosie said the catering Elias orders is divine. Apparently we should keep an eye out for tiny samosas?”

As if on cue, the cab shuddered to a stop. Jon thanked the driver, paid, and followed Tim out.

The Institute looked different under the pretense of wealth and success. It was still the same building of course, but the floor was clear of the rain mats and the smooth marble floor paved the way to the library, the main sitting room of which had been cleared as a rather respectable grand hall to host a party. Tables lined the cordoned off books, hot plates and silver trays steaming slightly. Bottles of wine lined a bar, behind which a vested individual with slicked-back hair was pouring small glasses and taking orders. A quiet orchestra completed the scene, cello and piano in a delicate duet. Before tonight, Jon couldn’t have imagined this many people in the Institute alone, least of all the library. Not that it’s packed. There’s maybe thirty or so well-dressed individuals milling about, the din of conversation white noise in comparison to the floating of the music.

Tim’s hand is on his back, pressing kindly into his spine. Oh yes, he remembers dimly, and nods, allowing Tim to guide him into the library and hand him a glass of wine. They stand out a little, two beacons of color around what is a pretty drab spectrum of black and grey, save for a few spectacular dresses in the crowd. Jon finds he doesn’t mind it, except that it may lead to unwanted conversation. It’s not his looks he fears being judged on, but that he be found wanting when it came to his capabilities. He was always selectively self-conscious like that, some things utterly meaningless, others inexplicably important.

Jon isn’t a huge fan of wine, but he finds himself clinging to the glass as a lifeline as he and Tim meander through the crowds, largely ignored. The music is intoxicatingly simple; he finds himself caught up in the deep reverberations of the cello as they walk, feeling it deep in his chest. There were, in fact, samosas, as well as small cannoli, and he and Tim piled plates as high as they could without garnering stares.

There weren’t many people Jon recognized; he didn’t even see Elias as he scanned the crowd for faces. Wine in one hand, a plate in the other, he thought maybe the night wouldn’t be too bad.

Jon shivered, the sensation of being stared at prickling the back of his neck. He spun around, trying to appear casual, and spotted Elias at last. He was standing with a large man, broad and wearing a deep blue suit, scruffy beard a mix of tawny and white. Elias crooked his finger, smiling primly. As Jon made his way over to the pair-who he could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen previously, he was intercepted by a short bald man in a plum velour suit, leaning heavily on a cane.

“Ah, Archivist,” he smiled warmly, extending a hand to shake before seeing Jon’s hands were full, and nodding his head instead. “Congratulations on your promotion. Elias has told me he expects great things from you.”

Jon smiled politely, glancing over to see Elias and the other man gone again. Regretfully, he turned his attention back to the man. “It’s a shame about Gertrude, yes, but I’m hoping I can do her proud,” he said in a practiced tone. He glanced over his shoulder. Where was Tim? He was just with him.

“Of course, of course. I was hoping I could have a word?”

“W-with me?”

“Yes, you see, I was rather concerned when I heard Gertrude’s position had been left open. When Elias said you yourself where at the junction to take over, I wanted to meet you for myself. I worry about the Archivists in your institute, so many of you do such monumental work for so little recognition. Do you worry your work to be meaningless? Your name insignificant when it is all said and done?”

(It is this conversation he remembers, months later, when he demands to record Prentiss’ attack. He refuses to be another mystery, a name on a placard to be wondered about.)

“I-ah, yes? No?” What was the right answer here? Jon stammered out a half-assed reply about doing his best, midway through when he felt a hand firmly on his shoulder, where his neck and collarbone met. Glancing to his peripheral, he saw a golden ring, an eye, and was frustratingly grateful to hear the cool tones of Elias Bouchard over his shoulder.

“Now Simon,” he said, voice even, “you aren’t trying to scare my dear Archivist, are you?” He gave the shoulder a squeeze but remained put. “Jon, I believe you’ve heard of Simon Fairchild, a significant donor to our establishment.”

Jon nodded wordlessly, not really listening to the two bureaucrats delve off into some topic or other, craning his neck to look for Tim. The music had picked up, he registered dimly, a orchestral melody led by a violin, sharp and whimsical.

“Jon?” Another squeeze to his neck, and Jon tried not to wince. “Wouldn’t you agree,” Elias asked, voice patient at surface level. “That the best way to move forward is to restructure the Archive?”

Jon nodded, trying to recall the answer he had rehearsed. “Yes, ah—my team and I have worked quite hard at recording the statements a-and organizing them in a way that will last long-term.”

“Ah, what a delight,” Simon—Mr. Fairchild—said warmly. Jon was reminded of the voices adults would use when they spoke to him as a child, when his inane facts about space or etymology had moved from endearing to obnoxious.

The conversation lasted for what felt like days, Jon feeling rather like Mr. Fairchild’s cane: a statement piece, contributing nothing to the conversation but unable to find a smooth exit. Leading questions from Elias led to thankfully rehearsed answers before Simon found his own exit and walked away smoothly, eyes wide and taking the room in.

“I-I really should find Tim,” Jon muttered, glancing around the room anxiously.

“Nonsense. He’ll be back,” Elias said, releasing Jon’s shoulder and taking his elbow in turn, “I would like to introduce you to a few dear friends of mine. I believe Tim is keeping one occupied at present.” Jon sighed inwardly (and maybe outwardly as well) and allowed himself to be led around the room. His wine glass was empty, as was his plate and he found it snatched away by a member of catering. He had nothing to cling to, to keep his hands busy, and was struggling not to pull out his delicately-placed hair pin just so he could fiddle with something.

Jon was taken on a tour of old rich people of England. Names flew past him, conversation buzzed around him, and still Jon felt like nothing more than a well-dressed trophy to be ogled at. Did Gertrude do this every year, he wondered dimly. No wonder she disappeared. He fiddled with the ring on his finger, nodding and smiling at the appropriate times, speaking when needed, and feeling the swirl of the orchestra build up in pressure behind his eyes. The music was beautiful but hard to listen to. Something about it was ugly, hiding a dark secret behind the innocent melodies.

Eventually, the evening was so much of a blur that he couldn’t even begin to fathom how much time had passed. It may have been weeks, may have been merely twenty minutes. Jon glanced down for his watch before realizing he had taken it off at Tim’s flat and never strapped it back on. Pity. It only added to the dreamscape reality he seemed to be participating in.

At last, Elias led him towards the large burly man that was suddenly in view (hadn’t he always been? Jon wasn’t quite sure. The wine must have affected him more than he thought with the nerves) and Jon saw Tim, similarly trapped in conversation as he had been. He smiled apologetically as Jon and Elias approached and the larger man smiled warmly at the newcomers.

“Ah, Archivist. I hope you don’t mind I stole your companion away briefly. I was curious about the nitty-gritty of your Archive. Timothy here was very informative.” Tim winced at the use of his full name and a part of Jon smirked, relating to the sentiment of being called Jonathan or worse, John.

“I’m glad he can answer your questions.” Elias spoke before Jon could open his mouth. “I’m quite proud of the Archive staff. Jon chose well and I am sure the four of them are going to do great things together. Jon, you remember the Lukas family?”

Jon nodded, confused for a second before the man in front of him extended his hand. “Peter Lukas, at your service.” The hand was cold, and a feeling of dismay washed over Jon as he shook it. He couldn’t help the feeling that the shake of that hand was a seal of his fate.

The orchestral music had picked up, a swirl of strings and piano, ascending in pitch until it grated at Jon’s ears. No one else seemed to react to it, however, as the manic notes pulling at something inside Jon’s brain, something he couldn’t explain. It was almost like a migraine, but sharper and deep in his spine and in his ears. Elias let go of Jon’s arm at some point during the conversation with Peter Lukas, a discussion about boats, maybe? Travel? This was the conversation Elias was so keen on Jon being a part of?

As Jon felt that grip relax, the glint of the ring on Elias’ finger seeming to wink at him, Jon took a staggered step backwards. “Mr. Lukas, ah-Peter, it’s been a pleasure. Elias, ex-excuse me.”

Jon turned and dashed out of the library, feet carrying him on instinct through the winding halls and down the stairs of the institute, deep into the Archives. He stopped when he felt his feet echo against the cold, solid lino of the archival storage and bent over, hand on the wall, gasping in shallow, rapid bursts. It was too much, it was too much, he thought he could do this but it was too much and he wasn’t enough for them-

“Woah-boss.” Tim was there. When did Tim get here? Was he speaking out loud? Shit. “Jon, yeah-hey, Jon. I’m here. You’re okay. Take some deep breaths, okay? You’re going to black out if you’re not careful.”

Jon felt his suit jacket being shrugged off of him and the newly allowed freedom of his shoulder helped. He took a deep, sputtering breath, the sweet oxygen flooding his system and sharpening his thoughts.

“The-the music and the talking,” he said under his breath, Tim craning to listen without infringing on his personal space. “Too-too much.”

“The music? Jon, hey, hey, just focus on calming down, okay? That was a dick move of Elias to separate us immediately. I was talking to that Lukas guy for way too long. Not even sure what we talked about. I think he’s just one of those guys.” Jon smirked to himself as he focused on the floor beneath his feet, breathing slowly until his heart rate had resumed a normal rhythm.

“Says you,” he mumbled, eyes closing as he pressed his warm cheek to the cold wall.

“You bastard!” Jon felt a light swat on his shoulder. “I listen to people! I have meaningful conversation; just ask Martin and Sasha and Alexa from Library and Calvin from Artefact Storage. I am practically a professional listener.”

Jon smirked, satisfied with his jab and turned around, now pressing his back to the wall. “God, Tim, I do not want to go back in there.” It was hard to admit out loud, even if the evidence was written all over his face.

“Okay. So, we won’t.”

“What?” the answer was so mind-bogglingly simple, Jon reeled.

“We don’t want to be here. We’ve talked, we’ve eaten. Let’s just leave. I can tell Elias I had an emergency and you had to escort me home, like a true gentleman.”

“Lie to Elias? I feel like that cant end well.” The offer was tempting, Jon hadf to admit.

“I mean, Sasha has keys to my flat. I could ask her to start a fire, if you think that’s sufficient?”

Jon barked out a laugh at that. “Ah, no, lets save a fire for something big. Yes. Let’s-let’s go, Tim. And-er, I suppose I should thank you. For coming tonight. I know its not an ideal way to spend an evening.”

“Are you kidding?” Tim did a twirl, Jon’s own jacket slung over his shoulder. “I look hot. You think I’d pass up an opportunity to dress up like this? You’re dreaming.” He smirked and took Jon’s arm, leading him back up the stairwell. It felt different than Elias’s touch. That had been a cold tug, directional and leashed. This felt…snug, more like a link in a chain than anything else. Comforting, reassuring.

(Luckily, they weren’t laughed out of the Nando’s they popped into late at night. Lemon and herb and spices covered their hands, but they were careful to keep their jackets clean. Jon, when looking back on the evening; remembers this moment, talking and laughing and letting the fresh night air was over them. Elias, Lukas, and Fairchild be damned. He’d deal with that tomorrow.)

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fanfic #fanfic to a tea #jonathan sims #tim stoker #prompt fic #black-tie #elias bouchard #still a dick #peter lukas #simon fairchild #sasha james #me? write everyone BUT martin>#amazing

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