#I am aggressively considering taking tomorrow off if only to not do Anything at all but I'm already staying home so

[essektheylyss]

I'm trying very hard to move as little as possible today because I think I have a strained rib, but I just put on Dead Man's Party because of that Oingo Boingo post and I don't think I can listen to this album without headbanging.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Fury

Prompts: Could we get a sequel to rage? Because I really enjoy batshit Roman and Logan, along with supportive Virgil and Remus. Preferably Patton and Janus continuing having their head in their asses, and Roman and Logan knocking some sense into them. - anon

Both Roman and Remus give tank vibes (in the RPG sense) to me, and also tend to have self-destructive issues. Could I request a fic or AU where both of them keep trying to take the hits for everyone else, and tell each other "you need to stop getting hurt" but can't recognize it in themself? And eventually the rest of the group sits them down and goes "we love you, we want you to be safe, please don't do this?" - anon

May I please request some c!thomas angst? Maybe some my-sides-are-arguing-and-it’s-getting-painfully-overwhelming flavored? - anon

I am way late, I know, but Thomas's birthday is tomorrow, from my timezone at least, so something centered around character him would be lovely (especially in your awesome writing!!) Maybe something with the sides showing the their love for him and/or him expressing it back somehow? I think their relationships can be so cute but from what I've seen people don't often write about them sadly. Thank you for considering this, and extra thanks if you write it! (Ps: sorry this was long 😅)

happy b-day thomathy sand dollar

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: some allusions to manipulation and guilt tripping

Pairings: logince, platonic or romantic i don’t care

Word Count: 5278

His ears are ringing. That’s funny. They don’t normally do that.

His ears are ringing. That’s funny. They don’t normally do that. Maybe there’s a bell going off somewhere. Or there are sirens driving by outside. No, no, this is a bit too high-pitched for that. What was it that Logan called it again? Oh, right. Tinnitus. That’s what’s going on. Wait, does he have tinnitus? He doesn’t think so. He keeps his headphones on a reasonable volume thanks to Logan anyway, it’s not normally quick onset like this, is it?

“All I’m saying is—“

“All you’re saying is we completely disregard the progress we’ve made in favor of sliding back into patterns of thinking that have done nothing but harm us, yes, I can see why you think this is a perfectly rational course of action.”

“That’s not what I’m saying! Stop twisting my words!”

The ringing is getting worse. His temples start to throb. He doesn’t remember that being part of Logan’s description of tinnitus. Maybe that isn’t what this is. But then what could it be?

“Janus, if you don’t have anything useful to contribute—“

“Wow, perhaps I should’ve imitated you again, then I would be listened to, right?”

“Hey! Not cool, you slippery snake, that was out of line!”

“And you never color outside the lines, do you?”

He blinks. That’s funny. He thought he was looking up at the Sides. Why is he staring down at the carpet? It’s a nice carpet, though, so maybe he doesn’t mind looking at it. There’s a stain there. Did he spill something?

“Kiddos, kiddos, let’s all just calm down now. There’s been a lot of aggression from both sides, so let’s just—“

“Both sides?”

“There are more than two of us talking, Patton.”

“Both sides of the argument, Logan, that’s what I mean. So let’s all just take a deep breath and—“

“Are you kidding me? He’s the one who’s insulting us! We’re just standing here!”

“You aren’t just standing there, you’re disagreeing with him.”

“And disagreeing is enough to be insulted and degraded like that?”

“Wow, Roman, so sensitive. There’s no need for you to get so upset.”

“Yeah, kiddo, you just need to calm down. Then we can talk about this calmly and rationally, just like Logan wants, okay?”

“You realize we’ve tried that already, right? That’s how we started this conversation!”

Someone snorts. “You remember three years ago when we started this conversation?”

“I believe it’s only been about thirty-five minutes.”

“I was exaggerating for dramatic effect, L.”

“Ah.”

“But Roman, you aren’t being very open-minded about this.”

His chest hurts now. Why does his chest hurt? Is it because he’s thinking about how long it’s going to take to clean the carpet? It’s not that bad of a stain. It must’ve just been tea he spilled. Or juice. Maybe that’s it. Maybe he spilled some juice and he has to clean it up. If he could move, he would go and do that. He should go and do that now. 

But there’s something he’s forgetting. 

“You have to try and compromise, Roman, that’s the only way this is going to resolve amicably.”

“Come on, kiddo, you’ve done so well with it before, just calm down and then we’ll keep going, okay?”

“Well, I’m not sure I can wait that long, as long as he’s not about to fire off on all cylinders…”

“Janus, just be patient with him.”

A sharp pain shoots through Thomas’s chest and an ache blooms on his cheek. 

Right. 

Right. 

He’d been having trouble deciding whether or not to go to one of his friend’s gallery openings. It was on a day they were free, by design, and they should be able to go. But the reason that day was free was because they’d arranged his schedule so he could have a free day, absent of any obligations or work requirements. If he went to the gallery opening, it wouldn’t be a free day anymore. 

Right, right, that’s why everyone’s so mad. 

Thomas winces as he feels a hand rub against the warmth on his face. His eyes still haven’t left the carpet, head pounding and chest aching. They’ve been fighting for—oh, what was it that Logan said, over half an hour now? And they’d made no progress. 

Because Roman had suggested that one two-hour commitment might be nice since it was something Thomas would enjoy anyway and supporting his friend would be nice too, but Janus had doubled down on this being a free day and Patton had agreed that it would be wrong of them to go to make themselves feel better and—

“Holy shit, Princey, that—that looks bad.”

“It’s fine.”

Patton sighs, disappointment strong enough for Thomas’s chest to ache with renewed zeal, “Roman, you don’t need to be so dramatic.”

“Faking a bruise? Really?” The condescension and scorn in Janus’s words make his stomach turn. “Next you’ll be telling us you need time to ‘recover’ before we can continue.”

Thomas feels cold. It isn’t cold in his apartment. Why does he feel cold? It is always cold? He tries to open and close his hands but they won’t respond. That’s weird. 

“Hey, assholes, why don’t you back off for a second?”

“Language!”

“Not the time, Patton, now shut up and let Roman be.”

“My, my, Virgil, how rude. You shouldn’t talk to your father like that.”

“We’re all the same age, you dick!”

There’s a shocked inhale. How did Patton manage to breathe in so sharply? He should try it to see if it’s possible. 

“There’s no need for such rudeness, Virgil, look what you’ve done.”

“What I’ve done? What about what you’ve done?”

“I’m not the one shouting!”

“You’re shouting right now!”

“But we didn’t start it, Virgil, you know that—“

“Actually, if we’re counting ‘who started it’ by who devolved into petty insults and making things personal, I believe you did start it.”

“And I’d never dream of disagreeing with you, Logan, what kind of monster would I be if I did that?”

Try as he might, he just can’t mimic the gasp Patton did. Why not? His chest doesn’t want to expand. That’s annoying. What if he needs to breathe?

What if he needs to breathe?

He needs to breathe?

He needs to breathe. 

Oh. 

Oh, no. 

He needs to breathe. 

The realization of what’s going on slams into Thomas. He can’t breathe. He’s not breathing. His head is pounding and his chest is aching and his face stings and his ears ring and he can’t breathe. 

He can’t breathe. 

“Hey.”

The noise of the room dulls out into a soft mumble as someone speaks into his ears. 

“Hey, Tommy-Boy. Thomas. Thomas.”

Remus. That’s Remus he’s hearing. 

“Sure is, Thomas. Just me. You’re not doing so good right now, and that’s okay, but I’m gonna need you to focus on me for a moment, ‘kay? You’re doing great right now, just stay with me.”

Remus. Remus. He can hear Remus. Remus’s voice is soft and careful and he grabs onto it with both hands. 

“That’s it, you just stay with me here. I know breathing is hard but you gotta take a breath, okay? Go slow, then it won’t hurt so much.”

Remus begins to guide him through breathing. This is good. This is fine. He can do this. 

“You sure can, Thomas, you’re doing really good. Just another slow breath, okay? That’s all you gotta do. Just like that.”

Thomas closes his eyes and draws another slow breath in through his nose, out through his mouth. It stings a little as it hits the back of his throat but Remus shushes him carefully. 

“It’s okay, Thomas, just keep it nice and slow. You’re doing great, just keep coming out of it for me. Shouldn’t be too hard, you’ve done it before, yeah?”

What’s happening? What’s happening to me?

“Your Ego is taking the brunt of the battering that’s happening right now,” Remus explains softly, “so you’re not feeling too good. Roro’s doing his best to keep the worst of it away from you, but there’s only so much he can do while he’s getting treated like this.”

His mind drifts to the throbbing in his cheek. 

“Yeah, that’s a bruise. Not on you, on Roro. It’s okay, Thomas, you’re okay. Just keep breathing and come out of it, okay? This is temporary, it won’t last forever.”

After what seems like forever, but can’t be longer than a few minutes, Thomas finally takes a deep breath that reaches all of his lungs and blinks. 

Wow, okay, his neck is sore. How long has he been staring at the ground? He winces, rolling it around a few times before looking up at the rest of the room. 

The Sides are looking at him. Some of them look sympathetic, some of them look curious, some of them look annoyed. At him?

“No, Thomas,” Remus says, still speaking softly, “not at you.”

“You got overwhelmed,” Virgil says, usual growl softened to a low rumble, “that’s all. Sorry it took me so long to notice.”

Thomas shakes his head. “I, uh, that hasn’t happened to me before. Not like that.”

“My guess is that having all of us—“ Logan motions around the room— “arguing like that was…doing the equivalent metaphysically ripping you apart.”

Thomas winces. “Yeah, that, uh…mhm.”

“My apologies for not noticing sooner.”

“No, no, you guys were…busy.”

“'Were,’ yes,” Logan says, a little sharper, before turning to address the others, “but we’re done for today.”

“What?” Patton blinks. “But we haven’t come to a decision!”

“That is correct,” Logan continues, the chill in his voice making the hairs on Thomas’s arm stand on end, “but we will not make a decision at the expense of Thomas’s well-being. Ergo, we are finished for the day.”

“And you get to make that decision all by yourself, do you?”

“He’s not by himself,” Roman says lowly, turning to face Patton and Janus, “I agree with him.”

“Well, there’s a surprise.”

“Me too,” Virgil growls. 

“And me.” Without waiting for anything else, Remus stretches his arms out—Thomas hides a gag—and grabs Patton’s shoulder and Janus’s elbow. “Bye!”

Virgil rolls his eyes a little fondly as the three sink out, shooting a look at Thomas. “You gonna be okay if I leave?”

“Y-yeah, Virgil, uh, thanks.”

Virgil tips a lazy two-fingered salute as he sinks out. Logan glances at Roman. The two exchange a look and a nod that—okay, Thomas is missing something here. But then Logan turns to him and his expression softens. 

“Do you want one of us to stay with you for a little while?”

Thomas rubs his arm, trying to get the goosebumps out. “Um…”

“Let me,” Roman says softly, “I can help, if you want. Seeing as it’s…well, me that’s hurting.”

“It’s not your fault, Roman.”

“I didn’t say it was.” He takes a step closer. “But I am the part of you that’s hurt.”

Thomas falters and Logan nods carefully. 

“Roman will take care of you,” he promises, “or…perhaps you will take care of each other.”

Thomas looks between them. “Will you two…explain? Later, maybe? You seem…something feels different.”

Roman huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Later, Thomas, we will do our best to explain. But for right now, why don’t you take care of yourself?”

“Okay.”

Logan smiles, a soft thing that he hasn’t seen in a long time, and sinks out. 

“Thomas,” Roman says, his expression still soft and compassionate despite the—ouch, despite the huge bruise on the left side of his face, “can I come over to you?”

“Uh, yeah, buddy, you can do what you want.”

“Thank you.” Roman walks over to him and whoa, okay, that’s a bit weird. Yeah, he knows the Sides can move and stuff, but he’s not normally this close to them. “Thomas?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here.”

“You sure?” Roman tilts his head and frowns. “You seem a bit…well, discombobulated.”

The memory of the ‘discombobulate’ clip from that one Sherlock movie springs unbidden into his head and he can’t help but giggle at it. Roman smiles with him. 

“What?”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just…discombobulate.”

Roman throws his head back in a louder laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to discombobulate you.”

“That’s such a good word.”

“What, discombobulate?”

“Yes.”

“I have to say it in the accent, don’t I?”

Thomas screws up his face and puts on the worst posh British accent he can think of. “Discombobulate.”

“Discombobulate.”

“That’s it!”

Roman shakes his head, still laughing. “RDJ would be proud of us.”

“We’ll put it on the list of things to do if we meet him, right?”

“When, Thomas,” Roman says grandly, his hands sweeping up into his normal dramatic gesture, “when we meet him.”

“Yeah, okay.”

At the quietly resigned note in his voice, Roman softens, the brazen grin going back to something a little kinder as he stands up and nods to the couch. Thomas goes, sitting down and putting his head in his hands. After a moment, he feels the couch sink as Roman sits next to him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“What is there to talk about?” Thomas groans and flops back onto the couch. “If I go, I’m either being selfish and doing it to make myself feel better, or I’m putting someone else’s wants above my needs again. Or I’m being selfish by staying in and not going to support my friend, or I’m taking care of myself regardless of how bad I feel about not going.”

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Roman chides lightly, “I meant do you want to talk about how you’re feeling right now.”

Thomas blinks. “I…um…”

“I’m your Ego, Thomas,” Roman says when Thomas can’t find any more words, “I’m the you that gets hurt when things go wrong. I can tell you what I’m feeling right now, but it might help more if you do it.”

“Um…well, my face still kind of hurts.”

Roman nods encouragingly. “What else?”

“My chest feels…heavy? Almost like there’s a weight attached to it?”

“Mhm.”

“And, um…my ears are still ringing. I can’t…it, um…it’s not good.”

“Here,” Roman suggests, prompting Thomas to sit up a bit, “cover your ears with your hands and drum your fingers on the back of your head, just here.”

Thomas tries, a little doubtful, only for the soothing taps on the back of his head to banish the worst of the whining from his ears. His eyes widen and he looks up at Roman. 

“Better, I take it, yeah?”

“Yeah, loads better, how did you…?”

“Logan,” Roman says, “he and Virgil—since they’re both part of the Left Brain, they can get into feedback loops with each other and I don’t know if you know this about Virgil, but he really likes to crank the volume on his headphones.”

Thomas shudders. “I can imagine.”

Roman chuckles. “So…Logan taught me how to cope with it and it helps me when Remus and I are bleeding too much.”

“Wait, what? You bleed?”

“Shh, shh, not like that, calm down. Just ‘cause we’re both Creativity, sometimes when we get excited we tend to, uh, the lines between our parts of Creativity can get a bit messy.”

“So it…doesn’t hurt?”

“No, Thomas, it doesn’t hurt.”

Thomas accepts it with a nod. They sit on the couch in silence for a bit, as the throbbing pain begins to ease and they can relax into the cushions. Thomas glances over to see the bruise fading away from Roman’s cheek. His eyes are closed and he looks…peaceful. 

“I’d tell you to take a picture,” he says out of nowhere, startling Thomas, “but you see our face every day, don’t you?”

“Sorry, I, um…”

Roman chuckles. “It’s your face, Thomas, you’re allowed to look.”

He cracks an eye open when Thomas stays quiet. 

“Or ask me any questions you have.”

“What…happened?” He shifts a little closer on the couch. “You and Logan and Remus, you…last I remember, you were all a bit…”

“At each other’s throats?”

“Yeah.”

Roman sighs, some of the peaceful energy slipping away and for a moment, Thomas wants to retreat the question, try and give some of it back, but Roman speaks. 

“We had a talk.” He shifts. “Or, well…talking was involved. Basically, we went to a rage room Remus made.”

“A…rage room?”

“A room full of things designed to be broken so you can let your anger out.”

Thomas blinks. That…doesn’t sound like the Roman and Logan he knows. Remus, sure, but…these two? “…why?”

Some part of him bristles and the question and he winces. 

“Sorry if that was rude, I just—“

“No, Thomas, it’s alright, I don’t mind telling you.” Roman sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I just—the last time someone asked me that question, it wasn’t with the same—they didn’t ask it like you did.”

“…how did they ask it?”

“The same way you would ask someone why they still wholeheartedly support the Harry Potter franchise even after all that’s happened and the new game has been announced.”

“Oh.” He frowns. “Wait, who—“

“One question at a time,” Roman laughs, sitting up a little more. “Logan and I went because Remus and Virgil suggested it. And they were right, it did feel good. We, uh, had a talk before and realized we were more on the same side of things than we thought. It was nice. A good bonding experience.”

Despite himself, Thomas smiles. “Baby’s first act of civil disobedience?”

Roman grins. “Exactly. Ooh, I should look for Captain America’s shield next time. Really beat the toast out of some anti-homeless architecture for flavor.”

“I’m sure Logan would be down with that.”

“Me too.”

They laugh for a moment before Thomas swallows. “…so who…?”

The last of the humor disappears from Roman’s expression and he sighs. “I’m not telling you this because I think it’s your fault, I’m telling you this because you asked for it, okay?”

“Uh…do you want me to un-ask for it?”

Instead of the laugh he thinks he might get, Roman just sighs again. “No, Thomas, you…you have a right to know. It’s your Sides that are the problem.”

Thomas sits up a bit more as Roman turns to face him. 

“Can you answer me one question before I tell you? Honestly?”

“Yeah, Roman, I can.”

Roman hesitates. “Do you…do you think Patton and Janus treat me or Logan fairly?” 

Thomas blinks. And blinks. And blinks again. Not the question he was expecting to have to answer. 

Do they?

Roman is…well, Roman isn’t really shy about what he wants, is he? He’s loud and extravagant and insists on things, so…

Wait, is he?

Thomas furrows his brow. 

The last time Roman wanted something it was…the callback. And he didn’t—the whole point of that was that he sent Thomas to the wedding. Which he didn’t want. And then with the wedding, he…well, after the wedding he didn’t do much. That was Patton and Janus fighting. 

But hasn’t it always been Patton and Janus fighting? The two of them disagreeing over what was going on? What Thomas was doing? Since when did Roman come into it?

The last time Roman stood up for what he wanted until Thomas shut it down was…was…

Guys and Dolls. 

And then Janus had impersonated Patton. And then there had been the wedding. And then—and then—

And Logan, gosh, what happened to Logan? 

They’d excluded him from the trial, Janus had impersonated him so many times, they’d…

Oh, god. 

Roman is still looking at him, waiting for an answer. 

“No,” Thomas whispers, “no, I don’t think they do.”

The sudden wave of relief that crashes over Roman takes him by surprise, especially when the bruise suddenly vanishes and the pain fades. Another smile comes to his face but it glows now, it looks—Roman looks at him and smiles and Thomas smiles back. 

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” Roman murmurs, still smiling, “thank you, Thomas.”

He nods. 

“So…Logan and I were talking about that, and uh, we got…a bit frustrated.”

“I think that’s fair.”

“And then Remus and Virgil heard what we were talking about and they suggested the rage room.”

A bit of dread curls in Thomas’s stomach. “Did…did Patton and Janus…?”

A darkness flitters across Roman’s gaze. “They weren’t the most receptive to the idea.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it,” Thomas says bitterly, “they’re my Sides.”

“Yes, they represent part of you and how you think, but you’re not completely responsible for them.”

“So what do I do? I don’t want them to be mean to you! If you—if you need something, I should listen to it!”

Roman just stares at him, a soft smile playing on his lips again. 

“Oh.” Thomas’s eyes widen. “Oh.”

“In a roundabout way,” Roman says quietly, “I think I’ve just done what Janus has been pushing you to do. Take care of yourself.”

“I’ll try,” Thomas promises, reaching out as Roman rests a hand on his shoulder, “I promise, I will.”

“That’s the spirit.” His mouth curls up higher. “You know what I think we should do now?”

“Watch that discombobulate clip until I can’t stop laughing at it?”

“You read my mind.”

“My mind.”

“You’re in charge!”

As soon as Remus sinks them into the Mindscape, he squares his shoulders and lifts his chin. Into battle. 

“Remus!” Patton crosses his arms and glares at him. “That was inappropriate! We do not sink other Sides without their permission!”

“You’re fine, Dad-bot, you’re not hurt.” Remus flicks a speck of grime from his sash. “Besides, I was helping Thomathy, doesn’t that count for something?”

“Oh, sure,” Janus drawls in that voice that never fails to set Remus’s teeth on edge, “you did just what we wanted, how very good for you.”

Remus grits his teeth. “Like you can talk.”

“Oh, but I can.” Janus grins and his teeth glimmer. “Quite well, in fact.”

“We were in the middle of a conversation, Remus, you can’t just sink us mid-conversation!”

“Wrong!” Remus bounces up and down on the balls of his feet. “You were in the middle of being giant whale penises to Logan and Roman. I was in the middle of trying to keep Thomas from dissociating so hard we ceased to exist. We are not the same.”

“You don’t need to exaggerate, Remus.”

“He’s not exaggerating,” Virgil says, appearing next to Remus, “that was bad, you guys. Like, really bad.”

“Mm.” Janus fixes him with a look. “Bad enough that you didn’t notice it?”

Virgil glowers. “Yeah. If it’s bad enough that I can forget Thomas exists, that’s how much he’s out of his head, me, the literal embodiment of worrying about Thomas, then yeah, Janus, that’s bad.”

Janus looks at Virgil for a long time, before nodding once. Silent. A concession, not an apology. 

“Well,” Patton says, clearly doubling down, “then that’s even more reason why you shouldn’t have done that, Remus! You know that speaking directly to Thomas like that can be dangerous, just look at what happened last time?”

Remus growls. “What, me showing up? Is that the big bad boogeyman that you think about? Just me? I don’t know whether I should be flattered or insulted.”

“My, my,” Janus says, his voice sharper now, “how polite, Remus, it seems your manners haven’t gone anywhere at all.”

“Oh, I’ll show you manners.”

“Remus,” Virgil says quietly, “don’t, you’ll just do what they want.”

“Yes, Remus,” Janus drawls, “don’t do what we want, we’re the bad guys, remember?”

“Don’t,” Virgil says sharply, pointing a stern finger at him, “you don’t get to play that card. Not now, not after what just happened.” “And of course, I wouldn’t dream of doing anything without your express permission.”

Virgil is saved from having to respond to that when Logan rises up next to him. “Hey, how are they? All good?”

“Yes. Roman is going to stay and help Thomas recover a little more.”

“Good. You okay?”

Logan nods as Virgil knocks their elbows together. 

Their attention is drawn back when Patton straightens up and fixes Remus with a look. “I just don’t understand why you did that. We all could’ve helped Thomas recover, but you didn’t let us make that decision.”

“You did,” Remus growls, “you did make that decision, when you didn’t look at the consequences of your little argument long enough to realize what you were doing. That disqualifies you from helping. Go straight to gay baby jail, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred goat testicles.”

“Yeah, that’s how I remember the game going too,” Virgil mutters. 

“It was going fine!” Patton pushes his glasses up his nose. “You just messed things up like you always do!”

Remus goes still. 

“Is that what you think I do,” he asks in a soft, dangerous voice, “you think I just mess things up?”

Patton falters. “W-well—“

“No wonder Roro’s so fucked up,” Remus spits, making Logan flinch, “if this is who he grew up with. At least Janny’s honest about being a lying liar who lies about things.”

Patton recoils as if Remus has struck him and Janus moves protectively in front of him, glaring at Remus. Remus returns the glare with equal fervor. 

Janus is the first to look away. 

Virgil just shrugs and glares when he tries to look at him and eventually, his gaze comes to rest on Logan. 

“Come on, Logan,” he says, trying for coaxing and missing, “surely you don’t think this is all necessary?”

Logan just blinks. “Do you think my opinion will be valuable in this situation?”

“You’re Logic, aren’t you? What does Logic have to say about this?”

“I’m confused, are you asking for Logic or Logan?”

Janus rolls his eyes. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is Logic would be able to tell you how rude and inconsiderate you’re being without getting upset,” Logan says, his control over his voice beginning to slip, “I as Logan, however, will not. And I will add that you are being cruel.”

“Oh, for the love of—if this is about—“

“Yes, this is about that,” Logan snaps, “and about impersonating me, and about everything else you’ve done in the name of Thomas when all you’ve been doing is clawing your way into a better standing with him at our expense.”

“You get them, L,” Virgil mutters.

“Logan,” Patton says quietly, a hand on his chest, “I have never—“

“Oh, fuck off,” Remus sighs, “you pressed the ‘skip all’ button, and a shit ton of other stuff.”

“And, in case you’ve forgotten,” Virgil says, “you did just bruise Roman right in front of everyone.”

“You have no proof that was me!”

Remus opens his mouth to snap at him when he feels a familiar tingle in his fingers. “Why don’t we ask him?”

Indeed, Roman rises up into the Mindscape and Logan has to blink. 

Roman is glowing. 

Not just because he’s wearing white, there’s a soft light emanating from him that makes Patton and Janus take a step back. Although judging by the hunch of his shoulders, it’s equally likely that he’s glaring at them so hard they move back. 

“Congratulations, Janus,” Roman says and oh, that’s new, “I think I’ve just gotten what you’ve been pushing for this whole time.”

Janus swallows. “And what would that be?”

“Thomas is going to start listening to himself,” Roman says as he walks toward him, “he’s going to start paying attention to what he wants and what he needs. He’s going to start making sure he’s kinder to himself about that.”

Janus blinks. 

“That is what you want, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes?”

“Good. Then yes, Janus, you’re welcome.”

Patton clears his throat. “And why are you taking credit for this?”

Next to him, Janus goes white. 

“Oh,” he breathes out, “oh, oh, oh, no, Roman, I’m—I’m so sorry.”

Roman turns to look at Patton. “Because the part of Thomas that wants, that is the loudest about when Thomas needs taking care of, that part that Thomas hasn’t been listening to, is me.”

“Roman is the Ego,” Logan supplements quietly, “and he’s the one that gets bruised every time Thomas gets hurt.”

“Oh, Roman,” Janus mumbles, staring at him like he’s never seen him before, “Roman, I’m—I—“

Roman’s hands tremble where they’re clenched next to his sides. “I know.”

Patton looks back and forth between Roman and Janus, his gaze growing increasingly frantic. “But—but Roman, we do listen to you, we—“

Roman just lets out a mirthless laugh. 

“—you’re always arguing with us,” Patton tries instead, protests growing weaker by the second, “and we—“

“You’re so preoccupied with the fact that you and Janus are agreeing after so long that you’ve forgotten it’s your fault we’re all like this.”

Patton does flinch at that, his mouth open, staring at Roman. 

“It’s true,” Logan says, a little kinder, “you and Janus…when you started to disagree, you split us up. And your disagreement filtered down to all of us. And now that you both agree again…”

He trails off. 

“They’re telling the truth,” Janus says very quietly. 

Patton looks around at all of them. “No…no, no, that can’t be right, it can’t…no—“

Roman’s fists shake. Remus steps forward and pulls him back a few paces, muttering in his ear. 

“Don’t. We’re both bad about taking hits, you’ve taken enough today.”

“He’s not going to understand,” Roman hisses, “not right now, we...I’m done for.”

“You aren’t,” Logan says as Virgil nods, “you’re going to be fine.”

Patton raises his head slowly. His fists tremble at his sides too. “We’ve all had a very hard day,” he says instead of addressing anything that’s happened so far, “so we’re all going to calm down—“

“Aren’t you tired of being nice?”

The room pauses. Roman looks at Logan. Logan looks back. 

“Aren’t you tired of being nice,” Logan repeats, “don’t you just want to go apeshit?”

Roman grins. “Yeah, Specs. I really do.”

Remus cackles with glee and sinks them out.

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If you want added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

[cyborg-franky]

Hello there. I saw your asks are open and the prompt "I'll feel much better if you let me walk you home" jumped out at me. I love your writing so I thought I'd submit an ask for this with a female reader and either Law or Zoro (with the guy offering the walking home)? I used to be team Zoro all the way until you matched me with Law and... now I'm conflicted. I love them both so I'll leave it up to you. Thank you for considering and I hope you are well.

Haha join the Law side of the force. I'll share so it's cool. I picked Law because I have done a butt load for mosshead in the last two days. I am doing well thanks <3 hope you are also ok my dear! and enjoy!

Law x Female reader TW: Some alcohol AU: Modern au - mature students SFW Word Count: 692 House parties weren’t really Law’s thing, but med school had been grated on him and the chance to avoid the books and work load for a weekend was actually rather welcome. He sat on the sofa watching everyone sit around in a hectic circle. He’d drank half a bottle of beer, swirling the liquid around half heartedly as he observed the rest of the group.

Nami was trying to stop Luffy from eating all the pizza before anyone else had a chance to take a piece. Zoro and Sanji were aggressively debating something, he didn’t pay attention, there was too much flexing of egos for him. Usopp was telling everyone a story, arms flapping around as he left no detail out.

He turned to his side, you’d been sat next to him, chuckling at the vibrant atmosphere as you gently sipped the bright cocktail in your hand, something Sanji had made for all the woman, always spoiling his female friends.

Cute he thought watching you brush back loose hair, laughing louder when Usopp and Luffy started to regale the group with another half-baked prank they’d tried to pull. The night went on, he’d finished his one beer, the empty bottle still in his inked hand, he couldn’t help glance at you every now and then, more reserved than the rest of his friends.

You had introduced yourself, spoken a little about yourself. “So, what do you do Law?” You asked shifting a little closer to the tall silent man, not wanting to yell across the din of the room. “I’m a med student, couldn’t you tell from the dark circles?” He smirked when his comment caused you to giggle softly.

“Yeah, I should have guessed.” You gave him a warm smile and it felt nice to have your attention.

“Are you getting a cab?” Nami asked you as she started to put the empty bottles in the trash, everything starting to wind down for the night. You shook your head “Nah, I’m only a fifteen-minute walk” You assured the pretty red head.

"I'll feel much better if you let me walk you home” You and Nami both stared at Law, Nami quirked an eyebrow at the man’s uncharacteristic politeness. “Yeah, he’s a good guy, he’s creepier then anything out there so you’ll be safe” Nami winked at you playfully poking her tongue out at Law.

Who did not seem impressed with the back handed compliment but shrugged his shoulders “If your sure… I’d like that”

--

The night was chilly, colder than you expected and you regretted your choice not to bring anything to cover your bare arms. “You alright?” The first words he’d said since you started off from your friend’s house. “Oh yeah”

“Tsk you’re a bad liar, here” You watched him pull off the ghastly bright yellow sweatshirt with the smiley pattern and shoved it into your hands. “Are you sure?” You stared at it, feeling his body warmth still radiating off of it.

“What sort of Doctor would I be if I let someone get a cold? It’s fine. Just give it back next time you see me” Law dug his hands into his jean pockets, a way of making sure you couldn’t hand it back to him. “Ah thanks” you slipped it on, it was long on your arms, he was a tall string bean of a man you supposed. It felt nice on you, his cologne was pleasant. “And when will that be?” You pushed.

“Hm? Well, I was going to get coffee tomorrow before I start work on a paper, your welcome to join me there” It wasn’t a question, just an open-ended offer which you smiled at nodding your head.

You soon reached your door and he waited until you’d found your keys and let yourself in, you waved your hand at him, and he nodded, giving you a half-hearted wave. Once in your house you looked at your phone, it lit up from a message, you unlocked it and saw the notification ‘Dr Traffy’ Goodnight, see you tomorrow.

You couldn’t help beaming brightly, you were looking forward getting to know your new friend…

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞

____________________________

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A true enemies to lovers ;)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: rapid change of POV, angry makeout, hate sex, smut 18+ (very rough sex btw), smart ass reader, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control)

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst? (i still don’t really know what classifies as angst), confused feelings, age gap (reader of age), hate sex 18+, angry makeout turned soft, smut 18+, vulgar language, brutal insults, it’s just all mean

𝐀/𝐧: sorry if the pov change got too crazy i was imagining it as if it was like a scene from a movie; just tried something new to spice things up :) also thank you guys so much for the love from only the first chapter?! you guys are literally awesome! i do have a taglist so let me know if you wanna be tagged in future parts! there’s only five chapters by the way!!!!

Taglist _____________________________

(𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨)

You were hanging out with Peter after you found out that your fight with Bucky made him cry. You two had taken a walk to grab some coffee from the cafe down the street. 

“Why do you and Bucky hate each other?” Peter asked you as you two were walking home.

“Oh, I don’t- I, uh… I don’t hate him,” you stuttered and hesitated, in truth you couldn’t care less what happened to the ass.

“Y/n, you say mean things to each other all the time, and you fight a lot.”

“I know. Peter, sometimes people just don’t get along. I don’t personally think Buck’s a bad guy.”

“Then why do you always fight?”

“I don’t know.”

You two got to the compound and Peter went straight to Tony and Bruce who were in the lab. You went to look for Natasha who was on a step ladder changing a bulb. 

“Why are you changing a bulb? Doesn’t Vision usually do that?”

“He and Wanda… are on… and date,” she huffed trying to reach the screw.

“Do you need help?” you laughed at her struggling.

“Yeah, you’re taller than me right? You try.”

You stepped on the ladder with the bulb in hand reaching to screw it in. Steve and Bucky walked in coming up to you with concerned looks on their faces. You reached up and could barely fit the bulb in so you opted to stand on your toes. That very quickly went south however.  

You fell forward on Nat making the step ladder fly sideways from under you. She grabbed you and rolled you both so you would land on the floor with minimal injury. Steve and Bucky both widened their eyes rushing to you two lay laughing loudly on the floor.

“You guys ok?” Steve asked, grabbing the step ladder.

“Yeah we’re ok-” you cut off, your laughter immediately dying from Bucky grabbing your arm and pulling you up. He grabbed your face and checked to see if you might’ve scratched yourself. 

You pulled away confused.

“Why are you so fucking careless? Ask us next time,” Bucky growled.

“Careful Barnes, don’t want people to think you actually care for me,” you rolled your eyes.

That pissed off Bucky who lunged at you pushing your shoulders. You used your powers to expand a black ball of mist before thrusting it at Bucky making him stumble back. Nat and Steve dove in to stop what could be another potential disaster between you two.

“Can you two stop fighting for five fucking seconds?” Nat yelled. 

“He started it!” you shouted.

“Enough! Barnes, L/n. Asses in the conference room. Now,” Fury found you guys.

You looked at Buck, who had nostrils flared breathing heavily in anger. He was fuming; and for what? 

“You two have a mission,” Fury said when you two entered the conference room.

“Is that really the smartest thing to do. We don’t work well together,” Bucky said.

“The only thing smart about you is your mouth. Go on this mission, together. Any casualties will come out of your paycheck and field time.”

“What?” you both said in shock.

“I said what I said; wheels are up in 20.” 

You grabbed the files handed to you by Maria and walked to your rooms to pack. Nat came into your room to ask what happened. Same with Steve and Bucky.

“What happened?” Nat asked you.

=

“Fury, sent us on a mission,” Bucky told Steve.

=

“I can’t imagine how quickly shit will the fan. I can’t stand him!” you told Nat, talking about the upcoming mission.

=

“I can’t stand her.”

“Why?” Steve asked Buck.

=

“He’s so infuriating. Like everything pisses him off…”

=

“She’s always angry and wants to fight.”

=

“Do you think maybe you like him and you’re convincing yourself you don’t by being mean?” Nat asked you.

There was a long pause as you two stared at each other before you guys burst in laughter.

“Good one,” you laughed, “Anyways, I don’t know how long this mission is so I’ll see you when I get back.”

=

“I don’t know how long this mission is so I’ll see you when I get back,” Bucky said to Steve patting him on the shoulder. 

You both got to the quinjet, not even thinking about talking to each other. The file you both had basically said there was a fundraiser being held to mask an underground meeting for Hydra agents to meet in secret. 

Not a secret anymore though.

You two arrived at the hotel still haven’t spoken a word each. All that was heard in the elevator on your way up was both your breathing echoing off the metal walls. You got in and set your stuff on the couch. 

“We should set up a game plan,” you huffed.

“Ok,” he said before disappearing into the bathroom.

You rolled your eyes but began setting up what should be the tactic to approach the mission. You didn’t want to be too aggressive but being too stealth might take too long. Bucky came out of the bathroom after what seems to be having taken a shower. 

“Come up with anything yet?”

“No,” you responded.

“Seriously?” 

“What? It’s not like your fucking helping.”

“Watch your fucking attitude. I didn’t do anything so knock it off.”

“Whatever. Are you gonna help me or are you gonna sit there and watch me do all the work just to take credit?”

“Why would I take credit for your shitty plan that’s gonna get compromised.”

“Can you not be a dick for two seconds and be helpful for once?”

“I’m not helpful?” he stood up getting angrier every passing second. 

“God, Bucky get your head out of your ass! Stop taking everything so negatively; this is why I can’t stand you!”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, princess,” Bucky walked up to you, pulling you close by wrapping his metal hand around your throat.

“Am I turning you on?” you mocked.

“Shut up!” 

“Or what? You’ll spank me?” you whispered.

“Fucking bitch,” Bucky said before smashing his lips to yours.

He pushed you down on the couch, kissing you burtally. Your lips were swelling as Bucky trailed rough kisses down your throat. You wanted to moan because Bucky’s rough hands touching your body was overwhelming. 

There was a harsh contrast between his hot flesh hand and his cold metal one. You finally gave in after feeling Bucky’s hard dick brushing against your thigh considering he still had only a towel around his waist from his shower. 

“Does that feel good? God you fucking slut; falling apart under a man you hate,” Bucky whispered roughly in your ear.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “Fuck you, Bucky.”

He lifted your shirt and you lifted your arms so he could take it off. You stood up and Bucky fell to his knees in front of you taking your pants while you unclasped your bra. 

Bucky let his poorly wrapped towel fall to the floor as he pushed you down roughly onto the couch once again. Bruising kisses were exchanged and Bucky’s hand traced your stomach following down to between your thighs.

He rubbed roughly but slowly at your clit making your hips wiggle under him. 

“Fucking stay still,” Bucky said. 

“God Bucky, I already don’t like you so teasing me will just make me fume.”

“Then I guess I’ll enjoy every second I get to tease you and pisssed you off.”

“Bucky,” you grunted bucking your hips into his roughly.

“Knock it off,” Bucky grabbed your throat, squeezing gently; sure he hated you and wanted you be quiet but he wasn’t trying to kill. 

“You want me to fuck this pussy? Want it rough? I’ll give it to you rough then,” Bucky said hoarsely, “I'll make you scream and cry from how good my cock is. I’m gonna ruin you, babygirl.”

You whimpered and nearly screamed when Bucky thrusted into you hard and fast. Your hands  held his forearms not in fear but to steady yourself when his hips started moving faster and faster. His hips dug into yours; you were getting sore already from his manic thrusts. 

You moaned loudly and Bucky kepting thrusting into you ferociously chasing his orgasm. You breached the edge yourself, tears forming in your eyes. You sniffled making Bucky look at you with the slightest bit of concern on his face. 

“Is it too much? I thought this is how you wanted it, you fucking cockwhore.”

“Ugh Bucky,” you moaned.

“Come on, Y/n. Cum. Let it go,” he said.

You nearly screamed in euphoria, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Bucky came inside you then collapsed on you knocking the air out of your system momentarily. You pushed him off then practically ran to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

Bucky came in you and you could feel the mixtures of both your cum dripping down your thighs. You were on the pill so you just cleaned yourself and quickly showered. When you came up Bucky had dressed himself and was writing stuff on a piece of paper; as if he hadn’t choked the shit out of ou and made you cum so hard you almost passed out. 

“I came up with a plan,” he said, so normally.

“Ok.”

“Look, Y/n-”

“This never happened. We don’t fucking like each other ok? If you tell goddamn soul I will rip you apart limb by limb.”

“Then you can’t tell anyone either,” he pushed.

“As if I’d tell anyone about this.”

“Are you that repulsed by me? Admit it! That the best sex either have had, probably ever.”

“Enough, Bucky. We hate each other.”

“But-”

“James, stop!” you yelled, quieting Bucky.

“Fuck you,” he said walking out.

“The plan’s on the table, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said before going to sleep.

You breathed out heavily before grabbing the paper. There was little room to make mistakes but all in all it was a good plan. You went to your own bed seeing Bucky already asleep in the other. You turned off the light and prepared yourself for what was to come tomorrow.

TAGLIST FOR SERIES:

@hoeforcuteguyswithcharmingsmiles @sweetlikesugar9  @thefifthweasley @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @perfectlymaximumphilosopher @kenopsiababe  @montypythonsholysnail

[peachy-panic]

Some Light Conspiring

Part of Do No Harm. And the official introduction/teaser to what I am calling The Resistance Arc. :)

Follows/refers to this encounter with The Nurse.

Part 2 hopefully coming tomorrow :)

WARNINGS: Hospital setting, BBU/BBU-adjacent, brief discussions of past medical whump

Sebastian finds her in the break room upstairs.

It’s been a couple of weeks since their paths last crossed, and he had been starting to wonder if the night nurse was dodging him on purpose. Ever since the morphine incident, he has been finding excuses to work late, pick up extra shifts, anything just to get a second alone to talk. The cryptic tidbits of information (or lack thereof) she had left him with have wormed their way inside his head and they won’t let go of him. 

He needs to know more, even if he’s a little afraid of what he might find. 

The darker part of him—the one that has only begun to see the insidious underbelly of this operation—had been starting to worry for her safety. What if someone saw what she did for Jaime? What if she was caught doing it for someone else? He doesn’t know what other rules she is finding around here to break, but he knows that if he caught her out, he won’t be the last or most dangerous person to do so.

All that considered, he is surprised but nearly euphoric with relief when he goes upstairs to make a cup of coffee on Friday and finds her at the counter.

“There you are,” he says, crossing to her probably a little too quickly.

She looks up from where she is swirling a tea bag around in her cup. The sapphire-blue piercing in her eyebrow lifts as she spots him. “Here I am?” she says.

“Where have you been?” he asks quietly, casting a sideways glance to the couple of handlers at the table. She takes a step back from him, giving an incredulous look, which—yeah, fair, he might be coming at this a little aggressively.

“Bit of a broad question,” she says. “To which the answer is none of your business.”

“You disappeared.”

She turns her attention back to her tea. “I hardly disappeared just because you didn’t see me here,” she says. “Some of us have lives outside of this job.”

He bristles. “Sorry, I just I find it a little strange that you go missing after our first and only encounter involved—”

Her eyes sharpen suddenly, cutting him off. He can’t help but smirk at his small victory. Now he’s got her attention. He follows her gaze to the table of handlers, then she takes a subtle step closer, lowering her voice. “Jesus Christ,” she hisses. “Not here.”

Before he can respond, she brushes past him and walks out the door. Sebastian takes that as a possibly misguided cue to follow. So he does. He shadows her all the way back to the clinic, where she uses her badge to scan into an empty exam room. She holds it open for him with an impatient sweep of her arm. The door shuts behind them, the mechanical lock whirring automatically.

Sebastian crosses his arms, leaning one hip against the exam table as she approaches the counter on the opposite wall. He tilts his head, watching as she begins removing lids from the glass jars of cotton swabs and alcohol wipes. 

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“If someone comes in here,” she says, taking out a handful of packets and spreading them on the countertop before she starts dropping them one-by-one back in the same jar, “at least one of us should look like we’re doing something other than some light conspiring.”

“Okay.” Sebastian blinks. “Um. It’s Aria, right?”

“Mhmm.”

“Great. I’m Sebastian. Listen,” he starts, unsure of where he’s really going now that he’s finally got her in front of him. “I’ve been thinking a lot about… well, about a lot of things, but specifically what happened that night in the ward.” It’s subtle, and she quickly recovers, but he sees it; the slight twitch in her hand as she slides a bundle of cotton swabs into the next jar. “What you did for my patient that night…The way you tried to help him…”

“Am I supposed to be hearing a question here?”

Sebastian breathes out through his nose. “‘You don’t get inside this system without crossing some lines.’ I believe those were your exact words, last time we spoke,” he says. “That there are ‘some things you can’t reach from the outside?’ Ring a bell?”

She turns around suddenly, crossing her arms in front of her. “Are you accusing me of something, Dr. Tate?”

“Accusing? What? No—”

“Why did you bring me down here?”

He leans slightly to one side. “Technically you brought me down here.” Her face tells him she is not amused by his attempt at lightening the situation. He clears his throat. “This isn’t a condemnation of any sort, I swear.” He pauses, swallowing. He can’t help but lower his voice again when he says, “You gave that boy morphine when he was in pain. You risked your job, and probably more, to do it.”

“Blackmail, then?” she baits again.

Sebastian pinches his eyes shut, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Can you just… actually listen to me? For one second, please? I don’t know how to prove it to you, but I’m not fucking with you here.”

Her narrow chin tilts down, fixing him in place with a stare. “That’s sounds exactly like what someone who is fucking with me would say.”

“I understand that you don’t trust me,” Sebastian says slowly. “And that’s probably a safe bet in order to get away with what you did, or… or what you are doing, I have a feeling—and this is not an accusation—that what happened that night was not an isolated incident. Am I right?”

Her silence tells him he just might be.

“I don’t know what all this means,” he continues. “But whatever it is, I can tell you I’m on your side. I don’t know exactly what side that is because, as it turns out, you are an extraordinarily difficult person to communicate with. But if my options are between the person sneaking medicine to patients and the ones facilitating their abuse, it’s really not a difficult choice.”

Maybe his exasperation is showing through, or maybe there was something in his speech trustworthy enough to lower her guard just a  little, because after a moment she shifts her weight back, leaning against the lip of the counter.

“Fine,” she says. “If you aren’t here to turn me in, what do you want?”

Now, that is the question Sebastian has been waiting to answer from the moment he stepped through these doors.

“I want to help.”

Continue here

***

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[stray-kids-react]

Hot Topic

Masterlist

Warnings - Swearing

Genre - Fluff

Pairing - Changbin x Interview Reader

Your boss was a bitch and everyone knew this for a fact, being head of a huge magazine company really went to her head. And being her assistant and part time celebrity interviewer put a lot of stress on your shoulders, but it payed well and you still loved your job nonetheless.

But having to run to a coffee shop at 5 in the morning in uncomfortable through the pourning rain, was definitely not a highlight of your job experience. Your teeth clattering and goosebumps rising on your skin, the rain was pouring down hard it was hard to focus on anything in front of you.

"H-hi can I get two small black coffees, one meduim vanilla mocha, and one large hot chocolate." You ordered, wiping off the mascara that ran down your cheeks.

The cashier nodded cautiously, concerned by the way you looked. The elderly couple sitting not to far away from you was sipping their cups of tea as they boared into your souls it seemed. You knew this day was coming, having such a great couple of days and getting a raise... It was bound to have a small dip so your life isn't like Barbie dolls.

"Name?" The chashier questioned, chewing her gum loud and obnoxiously.

"Y/n." You sighed, trying to maintain some level of composure with that annoying chewing.

You tossled back and forth on the pads of your feet, zoning out due to your tired state. You nearly tripped over your own feet when the cashier called your name, holding a tray filled with burning cups of caffeine. You turned around quickly at the vibration of your phone, alerting you that you boss was becoming impatient.

A dark haired man crashed into you, gasping out of concern immediately. All of the drinks spilled onto new and already drenched jacket, and the rest flew onto your face. You left your eyes closed as you held in the scream trying to crawl out of your lips.

"Shit, I am so sorry." He apologised, helping you to your feet.

"It's okay." You whimpered, voice trembling from the overwhelming emotions forming in your mind.

Before he could grab napkins to help you out, you were already walking back to your home. Tears strolling down your cheeks from a mix of frustration and exhaustion, you knew you needed the day even if it meant taking extra hours the next day.

You poured the bubbles into your bathtub as you called your boss to tell them you wouldn't be showing up today, they sounded passive aggressive as they agreed but demanded you to do extra hours tomorrow. Which included interviewing the kpop boy group Stray Kids.

That's when a lightbulb clicked in your head, the man you rushed into was Seo Changbin. You were a fan of Stray Kids and didn't even recognize your bias because you were so stressed out from work.

"Oh my God..." You sighed, sinking into the water with disappointment in yourself.

-The next day-

"Y/n! Can you help this group to to the proper floor? I'm really busy." Your favored and spoiled Co worker suggested, clearly just wanting to get some time off. You agreed nonetheless.

Eight God like men stood next to each other with innocent confusion in their eyes, they didn't complain like other celebrities or acted snappy either. This made it more frustrating when your co worker made her irresponsible actions your problem to solve, they didn't deserve that type of treatment.

"Hi, I'm y/n l/n I will be your interviewer tonight and I just wanted you all to know how hug of a pleasure it is to have you hear. I'm a huge fan." You revealed, adjusting your posture with a pure smile.

They followed you towards the correct location, couches and chairs set up for the interview. The staff were all busy fiddling around with the equipment to make sure everything was fully prepared, which left you to try and entertain the special guests all by yourself. But before you could speak one more word, your boss rushed towards you.

"I am so thankful for you y/n, I just got a call from Elle magazine asking me if I would be able to interview Rihanna in a few hours, so if you don't mind locking up the building for me. Thanks sweetie." She demanded, tossing you the keys as she waltzed away from you.

It was after supper and you've been working non stop since 6am, and now you had to stay in this hell hole for even longer. A staff member ushered most of Stray Kids to different spots of the set.

"Are you the person I ran into yesterday?" Changbin questioned, close behind you.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I ran out so quickly. This job just is a lot of stress and work." You apologized, confusion furrowed hsi brows as to why you were apologizing.

"Don't worry about it, I actually feel bad for how hard these guys seem to be on you. Do you need any help setting up or anything?" He suggested, a softness in his eyes that made your heart do back flips.

You shook your head, knowing your face was probably stuck in a slightly shocked expression. You were proven this when a small smirk was noticeable on his features as he walked past you to get ready for the interview.

The interview went smoothly, not a awkward moment between you and the band. This is due to being a fan and doing your research before agreeing on the interview, unlike other interviewers who have completely made it unwatchable for some viewers.

You nearly stumbled over your words many times but kept composure each time, the stumbling only ever attempted to happen when you looked at Changbin.

Sending you small winks whenever the camera zoomed in to an other member, and watching you soft eyes everytime you spoke. You could feel the heat on the top of your ears from his simple but effective actions.

Felix noticed Changbin's actions towards you and smirked to himself, he slightly warned him whenever the camera would be focusing on him or if he would be in view. Everyone knew how entertainments were like when it came to dating, and that's why it was exciting when an idol didn't seem to care and wanted to live their lives.

"So I have one last question for you guys." You reassured, reading the last card in your hand.

"What is something you want to tell your fans?" You asked, smiling since you considered yourself a fan.

Each member expressed their love and appreciation for their fans, some sending small hearts from their finger tips before the camera panned away from them. You appreciated how humble and easy going they were, especially after dealing with celebrities like the Paul brothers. The worst interview you've ever had would have to be with Justin Timberlake nonetheless.

You stopped listening to Timberlake after the interview and wanted to try a new genre, and that is how you got into kpop. The first band you became a fan of was Exo, but your ultimate group became the loveable dorks called Stray Kids. You saw yourself as just some regular interviewer that wasn't special in any way, and you never thought any celebrity would give any attention.

The most attention you've got in your career was a handshake you made with Itzy's Lia while interviewing them. That's why it surprised you how Changbin seemed interested in you, since there were so many other people who would give everything they had to be with him.

"Did it work?" Changbin questioned, a genuine smile across his features as you looked in his direction.

"Did what work?" You asked, giggling softly at his puppy like expression.

"Your day seemed tough so I wanted to make you laugh, that's why I was winking. I wanted to break the ice." Changbin explained, fiddling with the ends of his shirt.

His reasoning made your heart flutter much more than if he would've just done it to flirt, it seemed genuine and thoughtful rather than desperate and fuck boy like.

"That's actually really sweet. Thank you." You commented, trying not to show him how much it effected you.

He nodded as a welcome, secretly adoring the that crossed your features.

"I better get going. I have a lot of cleaning up to do." You sighed, beginning to step away from the boy of your dreams.

Changbin glanced towards his band before running after you, a prominent shade of red dipped on the tips of his ears and cheeks.

"If I promise not to spill it over you, do you think I could make you a coffee and help you?" He asked, voice meeker and less confident than it was a few minutes ago.

You agreed to his proposal, trying not to squeal. Your crush wanted to spend time with you, and this was the only time you ever wanted to thank your boss.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans Are Space Orcs, “The hypothetical

I decided to go back to and play around with my older style of writing today. Taking a bi of a break from the main plot line for a little bit :) 

As a doctor, I often wonder about hypotheticals. What would happen if my patient was injured in this way, what would I do. Working with humans I find each scenario has to be more outlandish than the next assuming the human is going to do something stupid.

However, in all my time with humans there is one hypothetical that I find most interesting: what would happen if early human/nonhuman communication never happened, and like animals in documentaries, or at zoos we learned about the humans purely through observation.

Humor me for a moment as I write this as I think it could be an interesting thought-experiment for the scientific community. 

I imagine we would see them as a series of logs made by the zookeeper as the humans were captured and placed into their enclosures, not knowing that the humans were sentient.

I see it going something like this.

Day 1 - we encountered the strange creature on a distant planet. We have never seen anything like them before. They tall, though that is only by way of the walking bipedally. Their arms are very long, and their eyes face forward. We were forced to capture them through tranquilization as they were uncooperative. We have a group of them, about six that we released into the enclosure. They are very agitated, and we must do what we can to calm them or otherwise worry about causing them significant stress. I can see them now lying on the ground resting their heads, they do not look well from the drugs, but we hope that the side effects will not last long.

Day 2 - We have yet to determine the genders of the creatures or even if they have any. It is difficult to tell, though there are subtle anatomical differences that we assume might have some bearing on the subject. Luckily for us they ate within the first day, and continue to eat well. As far as we understand their diets, these creatures can eat a large range of food, more than any animal or alien we have ever seen, and this including meat, plants, and plant byproducts.

Day - 4 They have a very large range of vocalizations, in a very complex structure that almost seems as if they are speaking to one another. They grunt hiss click hum, and so much more. As far as we can tell, they seem very social and tend to congregate in a small circle to commune with each other. When they sleep, they tend to sleep in a large group, or within the same general vicinity of each other. It sees they have a strong pack mentality.

Day- 3 we were forced to move them to a new enclosure as, last night one of the zookeepers ran across the creatures scaling the wall of their enclosure using the digits on their hands and feet to hold to the rough surface and pull themselves upward. I and the other scientists are a bit put out as we should have known this based on the anatomy of their flexible toes, and the sockets of their shoulders. These creatures are very good at climbing. For this reason the new enclosure is much larger, it has a pool of water and many tall branches to climb though there is a field around it to keep the creatures form climbing out.

Day 4 - The pool was a good idea as the creatures seem to enjoy submerging themselves in water. We know now that their strangely colored skin is not actually skin but some kind of artificial covering. They take off this artificial skin if they enter the water and put it back on after they leave. We also know the difference between the males and the females now as the males have more defined muscular structures and the females are more rounded with softer angles. As far as we can determine there is no behavioral difference between the two species.

Day 5 - We think they know they are being watched, as they have a habit of obscuring themselves in the furthest end of the enclosure where it is difficult for them to be seen. They have even taken some of the fallen branches and erected a bit of a screen to hide away prying eyes, or at least that is how it seems. Some of our experts assume it was actually in order to build a proper nest though we cannot be entirely sure about that.  

Day 30 - We are worried about one of the females. Her body structure has begun to change over these past few weeks, and her belly is becoming distended. We are worried about some sort of blockage or bloating caused by the misuse of food. The other creatures seem to be worried about her as well. We  might go in and tranquilize her and bring her out to examine her at some point tomorrow.

Day 31 - we had to sedate every creature in the enclosure in order to pull the female out and separate er form her pack. We tried to separate her naturally from them, pulling her to one side of the enclosure, but it seemed as if they knew what we were doing and the other large males and the one aggressive female would not allow her to go. We had to dart all five of the others to capture her, though when we pulled her out we were delighted to find the reason for her distended belly has nothing to do with the food. It seems as if we had inadvertently picked up a pregnant alien creature., which is likely why the others were so protective over her. We worry though because upon examining the internal structures we are concerned that the head of the offspring will not be large enough to fit through the pelvis. We are not sure if this is what the natural progression of their child bearing is supposed to look  like.

Day - 50 we have been doing some tests on our  creatures and have found a few interesting things. Their senses are far superior to our own.  We once thought that their eyes would be adapted to hunting and racking movement, and while that is true in low light situations, they actually have very sharp sense of binocular vision, and are very competent at guessing distances. They seem to be a primary visual creature, and we assume that their vision is even better than ours. There is some evidence that they can even see somewhat in the dark, though based on our examination of their behavior they are primarily a daytime animal.

Day - 61 We think that they can hear us talking outside the enclosure. In fact, we think they have a very sensitive set of hearing organs. They often behave in ways that make us think they might be able to hear us. They always seem to know when we are coming into the enclosure to feed them. They tend to stand very close and watch us very carefully. We are worried that they might attack, but so far they have not. The most disconcerting is the large male and the smaller female. The way they watch some of our handlers unnerves them, and I am going to have to hire new hands to help with this project 

Day 70 - They can use tools! It is an exciting and amazing discovery. But just the other day we say them begin to make things using strips of their own not-skin and some branches. They have tied rocks together and are even using them to smash up bits of food. Their hands seem very capable of doing such things as they are actually quite  delicate in their movements. Each diget can be controlled to the finest degree and the rotational movement of their wrist implies  extreme dexterity. Many of us think that this leaves them on a path towards sentience. Our scientists estimate that they have the intellectual capabilities of a five-year-old child.

Day 90 - great progress has been made! The creatures extreme vocalizations has added to their advantage, in that we have taught them how to speak! The sentences are very rudimentary of course, like a child, but they can ask for food, help, and express their displeasure. However, the problem is, they seem to have discovered greater words of displeasure from the people observing them and have taken to yelling rude slurs at the attraction goers. We think they like getting a reaction. They are very aggressive, and are becoming more so as the days go by. We worry about their health.

Day 100 - two of the large males got into a fight yesterday. We assume it was over mating rites with the remaining female, though that is only a theory. The way the creatures fight is very strange, they ball their hands into fists and then hit each other like using a club. Sometimes they use the hard bony ends of their elbows, or the tips of their knees. A few times they even used their legs to strike at the other. The feat of balance was quite amazing and the power generated from blows like that was scary. Visitors were urged away from the enclosure when wounds started appearing. Both males were covered in blood. We had gone to sedate them but by the time we came back the fight was over and the two males were sitting with each other at the edge of the pool washing their wounds. We think they find the water soothing, though we worry about sickness or infection.

Day 140 - We cannot get to them, overnight and out of sight of our keepers they have constructed a sort of den or nest surrounded by thick leaves and tree bark. There is no way to see in, and there is no way to dart one of these creatures while on the inside. We have been   to get them while they are out in the open, but they always hear when the enclosure or the windows open and have taken to carrying around large shields made of leaves and branches. None of our darts have made it through sticking uselessly into branches. We worry greatly considering the female is coming closer and closer to her delivery day.

Day 170 - We have a plan for sedation, though it will require an enforcement team armed with the tranquilizer guns to preform it. We are worried about the female and the offspring, which we intend to rear by hand. We have no idea how the other larger humans are going to react when the smaller human is brought into the enclosure. They could kill it. We do not want this happening, and besides, we think this creature could be very docile if hand raised by us. 

Day 181 - The mother went into labor last night, and we were called in by one of the zookeepers. We have to act very fast  and are assembling a team. We are worried she might die as the sounds coming from the enclosure has caused us to close down the entire zoo. She seems to be in great pain as we have never heard a creature make that sound before. All of the creatures seem agitated as well, those who are not in the enclosure with them are pacing around outside. They seem very nervous.

The team has been assembled and it has been quiet for some minute except for a distant squalling. The large ales and other creatures are encircling the little habitat as if curious. We are worried the large males will find this as a sign ofweakness and attack.

Day 182 -  please help us. We went into the enclosure as we had assumed with hour weapons ready to take the little offspring away to safer area for cleaning, however as soon as we got close to the den, the creatures attacked. We did not see them camouflaged in the leaves, and they seemed to erupt out of nowhere. Our leader was violently bludgeoned with a rock, and another was strangled manually by the small female. Each one of them was violently killed.

Two of our team managed to make it to the door of the den but as they did, the still blood covered female leaped outward and attacked screaming. She was the most violent out of all of them and practically ripped the limbs off two of our men before killing them. Protecting her young.

The large male carried the sleeping creature fin his arms as the female searched around for any more survivors. There were none and the door had been left open. One of our valiant men tried to go and close it, but he was murdered   as the door was flung open crushing him against the back wall. The child was handed back to the mother and now they are hunting about the zoo in a pack. I have locked myself in this  room hoping they will not find me, but even now I can hear a rattling outside the door.

Day of freedom - Hello you slimy bastards. Didn’t think you could talk did you. Either way you better hope we get back to our home planet, otherwise we will take this one for ourselves and make you suffer till your bones bleach dry under and unforgiving sun.

A little bit melodramatic there at the end I know, but I have spent far to long with humans, and I understand that they would probably be just as dramatic as I am making it sound. Also, I just realized that I technically just wrote some fiction, which means the humans are definitely rubbing off on me

[sfb123]

The Final Goodbye - Chapter 4 (Finale)

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Description: In a slight canon divergence from book 2, Riley reaches her breaking point with the engagement tour and decides to restart her life when the court gets to NYC. Can the rest of the group clear her name, and convince her to come back before it’s too late?

Catch Up Here

Rating: PG (I think there are a few swear words in there, very angsty, but otherwise pretty mild)

Word Count: 2,525 (sorry, this is like twice as long as the others, but it’s worth it, I promise!)

A/N: We’ve made it to the end of the story. I appreciate you all so much for indulging me in this. I guess, technically, this is my first completed series (I promise, I’ll get back to Sapere Aude and A Taste of Cordonia soon!), so that’s a pretty exciting milestone for me. I really hope that at the end of this, you consider it worth your time. 

I gush way too much over her, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop, because I’m truly blessed that we stumbled upon each other, so shout out @jessiembruno​ for all of your help with this, and with everything. I may have in person friends I go for walks with, but you’re still at the top of my list. 

Tags: Listed below. If you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

Maxwell, Drake, and Hana sat in silence on the couch in Riley’s hotel room, reflecting on the day’s events. Bertrand had told Maxwell that he found her, but nobody else had seen or heard from her since. They weren’t sure if she had seen Tariq’s statement, and were even less sure it would matter. 

Hana broke the silence. “I can’t believe we did it.”

“I can’t believe Riley isn’t here. We should all be victory dancing right now.” Maxwell replied. 

Drake patted Maxwell on the back. “She’ll be back, she has to be. There’s no way she went through all of this just to give up in the home stretch.”

There was a gentle knock at the door, all three of them jumped up in the hopes that it was Riley. Maxwell ran to answer it, revealing Liam on the other side. “Oh, Liam. Hey.” Maxwell stepped back, allowing Liam to enter. 

Unable to contain his grin, Liam entered the room and approached the group. “I had a feeling you all would come here. I came to see you as soon as I could.” He looked around, noticing that Riley wasn’t with them he turned back to Maxwell and noticed his nervous expression. “Where is the woman of the hour? I wanted to personally offer my congratulations.” His face fell as he noticed his friends fidgeting, unable to make eye contact with him. Even without his years of training, he was easily able to read the tone of the room. He knew something was wrong. 

“Liam...why don’t you sit down for a minute.” Drake placed a hand on his shoulder and attempted to guide him toward the couch. Liam shrugged him off. 

“No thank you Drake, I came to see Riley. If she’s not here, just tell me where she is and I will go to her.”

“We ah...we don’t know.” Drake awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, unable to meet Liam’s gaze. “This morning, after you left, Maxwell and I came to check on her and she wasn’t here. It looks like she never came back to the hotel last night.”

Liam felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He took a moment to compose himself, looking around the room at the sad faces of his friends. “She...she’s gone?” His voice barely above a whisper as he took a seat, afraid his legs were going to give out. “But you found Tariq, it’s over. Her name has been cleared. We finally have our chance to…” He dropped his head, cradling it in his hands. Hana sat beside him and wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders. Drake and Maxwell looked at each other. Nobody knew what the next move was. 

Liam sat in silence, his mind reeling with countless thoughts. All of the things he should have said, should have done. From the coronation, where he should have called her name, despite everything; to the previous night when he should have run after her the second she stepped off that stage. Maybe if he had gotten to her, he could have convinced her to stay just a little longer. He was so focused on retracing his mistakes over the last several weeks, that he did not hear the sound of a throat clearing at the door. It did get the attention of everyone else in the room, however. Their heads all snapped over to see Riley leaning against the doorframe, an awkward smile spread across her face. “Hey guys, what did I miss?”

The sound of her voice broke him from his thoughts. He looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Watching as she addressed the room, he took note that she was not meeting his eyes. He was preparing himself for the heartbreak that was about to come. She was only here to get her things, he was sure of it. 

“Riley! You came back!” Maxwell ran to her full speed, pulling her into a hug so aggressive that her feet lifted off the ground. Once she was standing again, he pulled away and took her hand, rushing her toward the group. “What happened? We were afraid you were gone forever.” 

There was an apprehension in Riley’s face that they hadn’t seen since the early days of the social season as her eyes scanned the room. She was trying to collect her thoughts and explain herself without letting it all explode out of her at once. As her eyes traveled in Liam’s direction, she moved her attention to the floor. She was sure he was upset with her, and if she saw any kind of sadness or disappointment in his face, she knew she would completely lose it. She focused her attention back on Maxwell, “You thought I was gone, and you still went through all of that trouble to go get Tariq and get him to make a statement?”

“Of course we did. You’re our friend, and we promised to help you.” Maxwell replied. 

Riley took a shaky breath, trying to keep a handle on all of the emotions rushing through her at that moment. “I gave up on myself, and you guys kept fighting. I don’t think I will ever be able to thank you for that.” 

She approached her friends individually, hugging them and speaking softly to each. Liam’s heart raced as he watched her move closer and closer to him, afraid for what that moment would bring. As Riley and Hana separated, Liam stood from his spot on the couch, taking a deep breath, preparing himself for what was about to come. For the first time since she had arrived, Riley and Liam locked eyes. 

“Hi.” It was barely audible, but it was all Riley was able to choke out at that moment. 

“Hello Riley.” 

Tension filled the room as Liam and Riley stared into each other's eyes, each afraid to start the conversation. Drake, Maxwell, and Hana looked at eachother. “Alright, we’re going to take off. Brooks, good to have you back. We’ll see you in the morning.” 

Drake and Hana walked toward the door, while Maxwell approached Riley. “Celebratory field trip to Coney Island tomorrow, Little Blossom. It’s going to be great!”

“MAXWELL!” He jumped at the sound of Drake’s voice, and rushed out of the room. Shutting the door behind him. 

Liam decided to make the first move, he motioned toward the couch, “Would you like to sit?” Riley nodded and sat on the couch, turning her body so she was facing Liam, he did the same. “So...you left.” Riley nodded again, still struggling to speak. Liam needed to get the question out there, if this was going to be it, he needed to know now. “Do you...does that mean...have you changed your mind? About us?”

Riley’s eyes went wide, she wasn’t sure what to expect when they spoke, but she was not prepared to hear Liam question her love for him. “Liam, no! This wasn’t about us, about you even. It was about me.”

He reached for her hands as he took a brief sigh of relief. “Then talk to me Riley, what happened? Why did you leave?”

“It was just becoming too much, we were at that UN thing last night, another night where I had to watch her on your arm. She had sent me earlier in the day to pick up her wedding ring. I guess that was kind of like a reality check for me, that the wedding was coming. Time was running out. You’re supposed to be getting married in less than a week. Finding Tariq was starting to feel impossible. I was going to have to go back to Cordonia and watch you marry her. I know I told you that I would want to be in your life regardless, but as we got closer to a reality where I was going to have to live as your secret, I realized that I couldn’t do it. I can’t live my life like that, in a country where I have been ostracized, just to have little glimpses of a life with you. I love you more than anything, but I couldn’t live the rest of my life like that. I figured, since we’re already in New York, it would be easier to just break away now and try to restart.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me? Tell me you were feeling this way, we could have talked through it together. You just disappeared.” He brought a hand to her cheek, brushing away the tears that had fallen as she was speaking. 

“I couldn’t tell you, I wouldn’t have been able to follow through with it if I did. You would have looked at me with those eyes, and said all those beautiful words that make me all mushy inside and I would have agreed to anything you said.”

The tears Liam had been trying to hold back slowly began to break free with her confession. He never wanted her to feel forced into anything, especially not by him. This whole thing had been his fault. She didn’t feel like she could be open with him, or she felt like when she was, he would railroad her into choosing his wants and needs above her own. That was never the life he wanted for either of them. “Riley, I am so sorry. The last thing I ever want is for you to feel like you can’t talk to me. I know that it has been...difficult for us to find moments to truly connect, but I had hoped that in those moments, we were being the best versions of ourselves. I had no idea I was so far off.”

“Liam, remember during the social season, all of the times where we would sneak away, or you’d spend an extra couple of minutes with me? You would always tell me how you were being unfair to the other suitors, and you were breaking the rules.” He nodded, a small smile playing across his face at the memories of their time together. “Your feelings for me were making you do things that you never would have done before. That’s what this engagement tour has been for me. I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would never be ‘the other woman’, I would never come in between someone else’s relationship…”

“But you were never…”

She put a hand up to stop him from finishing his sentence. “...I was never the other woman, because your heart belongs to me. I know, that was your way of rationalizing it, and I love you so much that I started seeing it that way too. I would make excuses, that it was only temporary until we found Tariq, that Madeline had told you it would be ok. And I know she did, but I shouldn't have been ok with it. I compromised who I was, who I have been my whole life, because of my feelings for you. That’s not ok.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Liam, I want to be with you, more than anything, but not if you’re married to someone else. I deserve to be the only woman in your life, and on your arm, for show or otherwise. If you can’t give me that, I need to walk away.”

“Riley, my feelings for you have never changed, nor have my intentions. Now that the scandal is behind you, we can look forward to a future together, just the two of us. There are a few arrangements that need to be made, some conversations that I will need to have, but I need you to understand that everything is going to change from here. Our moment is right around the corner, if you can just stick with me a little longer.” 

There was a rawness and vulnerability in his eyes that caused Riley to completely break down. As she began sobbing, Liam pulled her to her chest, his own tears falling freely. They sat there for several moments, purging the emotions they had been working so hard to hold back.

When they pulled away, Liam held Riley’s face in his hands staring deeply, desperately into her eyes. “Please Riley, just bear with me until the court leaves New York. If you are not satisfied with where things stand at that time, I will completely understand and support your decision to stay here.”

Riley blinked away the last of her tears as she considered Liam’s proposition. She slowly nodded her head, which was still being cradled in Liam’s hands. “Ok.” 

He could barely hear the words escape her lips, but it was all he needed. Liam kissed the tear stains on each of her cheeks before placing a tender, lingering kiss on her lips. “I love you Riley, I love you so much. I promise, we’re going to get our forever.”

Riley wrapped her arms around Liam’s neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. He brought his arms around her, gently rubbing her back. “I love you too, Liam.” They sat in each other's arms, each comforting the other without saying a word. 

“I should head to my room and try to get some sleep.” Liam broke the silence, standing and extending his hand to Riley. “Walk me to the door?”

She nodded, taking his hand and standing, leading him to the door. “You could stay here if you wanted.” She looked at him coyly. 

“Riley my love, there is nothing I want more right now, but I can’t do that to you.” He brought her hand to his lips. “You’re right, you deserve to be the only woman in my life, and I am still technically engaged to Madeleine. I heard everything you said, and if anything more we’re to happen tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to you. To either of us. Just know that you will be the only thing on my mind until we are together again.” He leaned down, kissing her deeply, as he wrapped his free hand around her waist. 

“Will you at least come with us to Coney Island tomorrow?” She asked hopefully. 

“Only if you promise to ride with me on the Ferris wheel.”

She smiled, and Liam felt his heart skip a beat at the sight. It was at that moment that he knew they were going to be ok. “I think that can be arranged.”

He pulled her close for one last lingering hug. “Then I will be counting down the seconds.” He pulled away, kissing her on the cheek. “Goodnight, Riley.”

“Goodnight Liam.”

They shared a final smile before Liam exited the room, shutting the door behind him. Riley changed into her pajamas and got into bed. That night, she slept better than she had during the entire tour. She knew there was still a lot that needed to be figured out, and that it would likely be an uphill battle, but she was one step closer to walking up that hill hand in hand with Liam, and that’s all she had ever wanted in the first place.

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The Final Goodbye:

@ao719​​ @burnsoslow​​ @busywoman​​ @itsjustwinter​​ @ladyangel70​​ @mainstreetreader​​ @shanzay44​​

Liam x Riley:

@jared2612​​

Liam:

@amandablink​​

[kentos-filmcamera]

10 times, 1 occasion - Inumaki Toge

5. Misunderstanding

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Even with your victory at the last event of the exchange and your stellar participation in it, you were angry. Not angry, confused. Toge had not spoken to you all morning. He either said his usual words to Maki and Panda or texted them. With you, however, every time he was about to talk to you, he regretted it and turned away. Have you done something? Said something? You spent yesterday and the day before that so well. He never once looked concerned or had given you the cold shoulder. Frustrated, you took off your personalized dirty jersey, only leaving you in the navy protective tight shirt underneath, and cleaned your pants from the orange dirt of the baseball field while walking away behind Maki, Inumaki, and Panda, and in front of Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara. You were almost given an out, but you slid in to secure the second base.

“Calm down” Fushiguro held your wrist down, stopping your aggressive movements. “You guys go ahead,” He told Nobara and Yuuji, who were both staring at you with light concern. When they didn’t move, he ushered them away with his hand.

“I’m fine” You persisted, trying to remove your hand from his grip. He stared you down with severity, as you stared back sternly, trying to take your hand away.

Coming from a community up in a mountain, both Jujutsu schools were far away. However, sorcerers in your family were unable to train you by their amount of occupation on the field or just because they were in retirement. Or dead. So, you were sent to Tokyo every summer to train. You and Megumi were raised in the jujutsu world side by side, so there was an unspoken, true trust between the two of you. You cared for him, he cared for you equally. You knew he was pretty reserved about his feelings, so it wasn’t like he was your personal therapist, or likewise. He noticed right away you were angry and came quickly to your aid when Toge didn’t. Nobara was pretty… observant, to put it kindly, of other people’s businesses. She realized right away when you walked into the common room how Toge looked away when you sat in front of him. Or when everyone’s phone vibrated on the bench except for yours. Or when you hit the ball perfectly for a homerun and Momo didn’t get a chance to catch it as it hit her in the head on its way down, he didn’t cheer for you to catch second base like the others did. Considering the mental shutdown he saw Toge having, Megumi decided it was best to approach you, as you became more visibly upset with each altercation.

“You’re upset” He deadpanned, and all the tension from your body disappeared as you slumped, your head looking directly at the floor. With a sigh, Megumi released your wrist.

“I don’t know what I did, he just won’t even look at me, I’m so scared... '' You sighed, looking up and throwing your arms out in frustration. Fushiguro’s lips tensed even further into a line, a bit sad to see you so frustrated. “Does he not like me anymore? Is it the scarring? Does it make me uglier? I-I-” You started spiraling, pacing around impatiently. Once again, he held you down, your panicked face meeting his neutral expression.

“I think he’s scared,” Fushiguro said plain and simple. Your face contorted from panic to confusion in a few quick seconds. “But you have to talk to him about it”

“If he wants to…” You sighed and shrugged. You gave him a sad smile “Thank you, ‘Gumi-kun”

“You’re welcome, senpai” He nodded solemnly.

“How about a hug?” You stretched out your arms like a child. His face dropped in disgust and began to walk away. “Oh c’mon! Give me the honor of receiving a hug from you, Fushiguro '' You jogged after him. He only picked up his pace, running towards the dorms. “C’mere, Fushiguro-kun!” You ran after him and he started to run faster.

“No!” He shouted back to you, but you could see the smile trying to creep from behind his eyes. Gojo was sitting on the stoop outside the first year’s dorm. Watching you chase after each other in circles, he laughed loudly, snapping a video and a picture, where you had tears on the brim of your eyes from laughing and a huge smile, with Megumi next to you a few steps ahead, with half a toothless smile that was more than enough for you.

Toge looked outside the window to hear all the clamoring, to find you on the floor squeezing Megumi to death in a half hug, half headlock, laughing like there was no tomorrow. His heart skipped a beat but his face turned sour as he squeezed the chest of his top. He closed the window and laid on his bed, collar down, facing the ceiling quietly. His phone soon vibrated in his pocket.

[ Maki Zen’in: tf is wrong with you? ]

[ Inumaki Toge: wym? ]

[ Maki Zen’in: why are you ignoring them? ]

Toge sat up, tense. The truth is, he didn’t know. He could have all his internal conflicts while still talking to you. But he was scared. You had never defined labels, so maybe you didn’t like him that much for you to consider your boyfriend. He was scared. Very scared. Scared that you had an awkward conversation that would end it all, scared you didn’t like him that much and had to say it to his face.

[ Inumaki Toge: i’m scared ]

[ Maki Zen’in: ? ]

[ Inumaki Toge: kugisaki said i was their partner. ]

[ i just, i don’t know if i am. ]

[ i don’t know if they like me in that way. i’m scared to lose them ]

[ Maki Zen’in: god, you’re an idiot ]

[ just talk to them soon, okay? ]

[ Inumaki Toge: mkay ]

He yawned and stretched, but when he looked outside, you were nowhere to be found. He plopped back into bed, and when he realized it, he had fallen asleep. He panicked and looked around for his phone, realizing it was a bit past 5 PM. He jumped off his bed and crossed to the women’s dorm room block, standing in front of your door. He waited there for a few seconds. Seconds turned into minutes. But he couldn’t bring himself to knock or open the door.

“Toge?” He heard a quiet voice coming from down the hallway. You stood there, wearing sweatpants and a large shirt. You looked distraught at his presence.

“Kelp” He greeted as equally quiet before taking out his phone.

[ Inumaki Toge: can we please talk ? ]

“Sure” You nodded and approached him, opening the door for your room “After you”

The two of you sat silently on the bed for more than a few minutes, not a word in place, basking under the golden beam of light the sun produced at that hour. That was until you decided to speak “Why do you hate me?” You mumbled.

His eyes widened as he shook his head and his hands, saying no incessantly without any words at all. He stammered, trying to contain his words and finding a way to explain as quickly as possible before the water brimming your eyes fell down your cheeks. His eyes landed on a small whiteboard and a neon green marker you had in the corner, and while standing up, he started to write. His handwriting was adorable, with perfectly round letters, balanced curves, and straight lines. ‘ I don’t hate you '

“Then why have you been ignoring me all day?! I don’t know what I did, if I did anything at all, and it hurts!” You exclaimed, standing up to face him. His heart skipped a beat in all the wrong ways. He hurt you?

‘ I’m scared ’ He wrote and you sighed, just like Megumi said. But still, you didn’t understand. Your mouth pushed further into a line, which then started to tremble. “Why?”

Once again, he wished to speak to you and say everything that went a hundred miles per hour, but couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Then, he realized Maki was right; he was an idiot. The biggest idiot in the whole wide world. It was a stupid reason to neglect you like that. To make you so concerned, you were softly crying.

‘ Do you like me? ’ He wrote instead of giving you a clear answer. Your expression turned sour as you laughed “I thought I made it clear enough. I like you. So, so much. It’s okay if you don’t”

“Okaka” He shook his head before he started writing. ‘ I’ve always liked you. I just thought you didn’t. Nobara said I was your partner, and I panicked, cuz I thought you didn’t want to be ’ You stayed still but cracked a broken smile. He erased the message quickly and wrote an ‘ I’m sorry :( ‘

“You’re very silly, Inumaki-kun” You laughed very lightly, a tear escaping your eye. “I was really scared to lose you… again” A few more tears squeezed out of your eyes. Parting from your friends was hard, but having someone like Toge, who always looked out for you, ripped away was hard. Really hard. You cursed the damn mountain you lived on for not having any signal. You didn’t know anything about anyone, might as well think they’re all dead.

He just sighed “Tuna mayo” He comforted you simply, letting the board down on your bed before carefully wiping your tears away with his thumb. After you gazed into each other’s eyes for a second, the message was clear; you were never going to lose him again. Toge pulled you in for a hug. I love you.

[daydreamed-snippets]

hello! i absolutely adored your addition to gingerly’s prompt ask :) i was wondering if you could continue it, and no worries if you can’t! thanks <3

I realize the more I write this the longer it’s getting. I probably have imagined six parts or more???? I have other WIPs that need attention, but I am so, so, so, so thankful that you like the first part of my prompt response to @gingerly-writing I’m going to post this and then part 3 hopefully tomorrow 👀 👀 👀 👀Maybe??? then take a small break to post some other stuff. Lol this is a continuation I didn’t really plan for, but am definitely excited about!!

@chibicelloking @lolafaiy

Part One Here

A dull thrum of voices stirred sidekick out of surly drowsiness. The articulation of words was muddied, coming across as garble before snapping into clarity the more they roused. There was “monitor vitals”, “recommended range”, “even by a fraction” that registered in the back of their mind. Teammates must be running some tests again.

But they couldn’t move. Not a muscle. They weren’t paralyzed, they were just restrained. Which was odd because that wasn’t—

They felt the string back around their neck again. That feeling of dread rustled, usually abating when they returned to headquarters and the familiarity of their bunk. Memories came no longer concealed by lethargy. Of the teammates being pinned down by supervillain. Of their oh-so-brave self-sacrifice. Of teammates using The Machine to pry open a portal. Of sidekick losing consciousness in supervillain’s arms. 

Sidekick held their breath, letting out a quiet moan. It didn’t work, did it? Teammates didn’t make it to that sewer way after supervillain choked them into unconsciousness. And if they did, they were unable to save sidekick. They were captured.

So what now? 

Policy would have them stay mute. To be uncooperative. To trumpet bravado and bare their teeth. 

Policy would have their self-sacrifice complete its course to martyrdom. 

Feeling their sinew stretch to uncomfortable lengths, the sidekick’s mind fortified itself, resolved to do their due diligence. They could die for the cause. They were trained to do so. Engrained by doctrine, encouraged parables of valor, and promises of glory. They weren’t a hero, yes, but they’d surely get a hero’s burial. A hero’s honor, and admittance to the halls of the nobly fallen. After all, it was promised to those slain for the cause. 

Noting how their wrists were held high above their head and were bound together, sidekick tensed their muscles against the wire to test how well it held their arms, chest, hips, and legs still. They were hanging in midair, everything was drawn taut, everything perfectly balanced so that the threads bowed them back like a rag doll on display; fraying and terribly exposed. 

At least it didn’t cut their skin this time.

The easy solution: they could mount a daring escape by making a portal around themselves. No on second thought due to calculation risks, they could make approximately 47 mini portals, severing the strings. Then once they got a better gauge of the room, they could make one large enough for them to drop through. They doubted they would be able to go far, maybe outside this room after they opened their eyes and calculated the circumference of it. Their weakness lies in the fact that not knowing where they were meant they were limited in where they could go. Power hinging on all of the maps in their head. If they could just see it on the map then they could calculate the needed trajectory and portal to it. 

But they had neither the time nor the luxury for that now.

Taking all 47 at a time, sidekick opened dime-size portals an inch above where the wires met their skin. Calculations playing in the background of their psyche. They had to be precise—they must have caution or risk searing flesh from bone. Wire fractured and cracked in midair, and sidekick dropped a small length, feet hitting the floor, knees buckling. 

They barely had a second to get up.

A shrill alarm, jarring, and ear-splitting sounded. 

Fire followed, blazing across their skin, only somehow from the inside radiating out, originating from their neck, and spiraling down. They writhed under the voltaic ministrations, convulsing until it ceased, finally falling limp.

Someone came to stand before them, and sidekick considered the familiar boots warily before flicking their gaze up, proximity kick-starting their heartbeat. And it ran wild. Supervillain settled before them, appearing polished, normal costume hidden under a button-up shirt loosely tucked into a pair of trousers. A light pea coat pulled the ensemble together. Their expression, however, looked like they were ready to pounce, eyes veiled behind a tight expression.

“Perfect. You’re awake.”

Should sidekick go for bravado, or would a more fearful submissive approach best serve them, now that their escape attempt has failed? Unsure, sidekick opted for a mix of both, figuring, at any rate, the body count associated with supervillain alone would suggest that they tread carefully. “Wh-what did you do to me? My teammates—”

“Your teammates don’t know where you are, and it’s going to stay that way for a while." They crouched agilely, a panther before a frightened yearling, tucking a finger under their chin to hold their complete attention. "I would advise against doing anything that would jeopardize your standing with me, puppy. Like trying to use your power to escape. I am not what one would call longsuffering. I may have shown you a smidgen of my mercy but don’t expect it to be par for the course." Supervillain motioned to the room with a nod. "If you’re wondering where you are, may I present to you my humble garrison. This is the medical wing, with medic and assistant behind me. We’ve removed the association’s tracking device, and replaced it with something far more fetching.”

Trailing a thumb down their neck, supervillain fiddled with the band around their throat, a neatly fitted collar. How did sidekick not notice that? It felt not much different from supervillain’s wires—something foreign and constricting. Ears burning, their face paled, sweat lining their brow. If this could get worse or more humiliating, they weren’t sure how. 

Threading a finger through the ring, supervillain wrenched sidekick off the ground, onto their hands and knees like a true dog. 

A strangled mewl tore from the sidekick’s throat. 

“You do get the gist of this, don’t you, darling? You’re a clever one. Make a portal without my direct order, and this device will give you an electric shock that will render you immobile at best, unconscious at worst.” Their shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “And it hurts like hell, or so I’m told so that should be incentive enough.”

Oh no. 

This was worse. 

So much worse than anything sidekick had endured at the Hero’s Association. Ignoring their basic human needs, ok. They can handle that. Belittling them, playing passive-aggressive games? Cool, cool, cool, cool. The occasional punishment? Everyone endures the intermittent blow or two. Suck it up, sidekick. But humiliation like this? They wanted to crawl under a rock and never be seen again. 

“Y-you,” they stammered, dread churning, turning into something they hadn’t felt in a while. Rage. “You, you, you jerk!”

“You jerk?” supervillain echoed a deep chuckle. “Dear lord, you know you should be thanking me, my very young and inventive labradoodle. One, for not taking your life as I had wanted. Two, for not ringing out your delicate neck despite that little stunt just now. And, three for rescuing you from such neglectful owners—” 

“I will never thank you for that!”

Silence filled the room, allowing the mechanical hum of lab equipment to permeate. Medic and assistant tossed glances at each other over supervillain's shoulder, as a shadow passed over supervillain’s face. That thumb returned to sidekick’s lips, the latter’s breath catching at their misstep. “You said they.”

“W-what?”

“When you spoke about your teammates, and how they’ve been fighting me all of these years. You said they. Not we’ve been fighting, but they. You haven’t used a single possessive pronoun when speaking about the six of you—or anyone in the association for that matter.” 

No. No, sidekick didn’t mean it like that. They belonged. They were a team. They are a team.

“You keep them separate from yourself,” the supervillain continued, stoking their cheek absently. “Whether consciously or unconsciously, you do. From the short time I discovered that it was a person and not a machine behind the Hero’s Association’s success, I’ve learned this: your ideals are of self-immolation. You offer yourself up as a lamb for your teammate’s success; for the association’s success. You foolishly stare down your enemy in hopes for what? Recognition? Adoration? That’s clearly not working, is it? I simply called you a dazzling diamond in the ruff, and you flushed like someone newly in love.” That tone was back. A wanton timbre for power, and sidekick face colored on command. They brought their hand up to hide it. “Your actions are like a puppy: young and misguided. Training will fix it.”

Throwing them a salacious grin, supervillain called another thread to their hand and knotted it around sidekick's collar ring. Easing off of their haunches, they stood, the wire going slack. “I will delve into these mysteries soon enough. Just as you will come to discover, in due time, that you are much better off with me than against me.”

Sidekick blood boiled, finally at the tipping point. 

They saw red. 

Supervillain thought they knew them? Thought that they were such an open book? Palms fisting, sidekick wanted very much to strike out at the supervillain. To wipe that knowing looking off their face. A feat, they realized, that could accomplish with words. And something this time with more punch than ‘jerk’. Screaming, they let out an uncharacteristic string of curses; ones they’d heard in passing, ones that had even been directed at them. Being a human gateway didn’t afford them many friends their own age or otherwise, and the other heroes were quick to ruffle their hair, and blame them for mishaps than befriend them.

Supervillain didn’t move. Even to tighten the leash. 

But medic spoke out. 

“Eh, yo, villy, your puppy be barking at you. Want me to shut them up?” Their crisp white coat stood in neat contract to their rich skin; voice speaking of hardship and closely won battles. Finger hovering over their datapad.

“Give it a minute,” supervillain said, as sidekick let out one last cry, fists hitting the cold tile, utterly spent. They bent over, muscles quivering in release. “See, it wasn’t necessary, medic. This particular breed responds to a more patient touch.”

“All that patient touch and you gon’ be wondering why you got missing fingers. Look, I don’t know about pets, but, this seems real sus.”

“Good thing you’re not in charge of them.”

“I guess, tho, I just be saying,” they let out a sigh, shaking their head, returning their attention to a beeping screen. “You know how much I love them pathetic animals.” Medic shot a look at sidekick, as their eyes bounced between the two, mouthing I don’t, and slid their thumb across their neck when supervillain wasn’t looking. 

Sidekick almost whimpered. 

Supervillain flexed their hands, fingers gracefully dancing as wires loosened from the ceiling, fell in a heap on the ground then receded altogether, sheltering in the supervillain’s pea coat. Only the one wire connected to their collar remained visible, wrapping itself around the supervillain’s wrist that. Like a bracelet, they tucked it away in their sleeve, then opted to move rather than command sidekick to heel. 

Lurching forward, sidekick had no choice but to follow. 

[p03bag]

Scrybe Belwyn Headcanons

Under the cut!

He wouldn’t really enjoy referring to himself by a title. But technically his title would be the Scrybe of Dreams. I am so sorry Dreena skdjlfjdkjhdf

His deck mechanic would be “dreams,” which would work sort of like a mixture between Blood and Mox -- along with your pile of attacking monsters, you’d have a pile of “dream” cards. Dreams come in three types: joyful dreams, scary dreams, and lonely dreams. Dreams don’t do anything by themselves, but rather you place them to summon a monster, upon which they are used up and put in the graveyard. Different monsters will require different kinds of dreams to summon, and stronger ones may require more than one dream card; for example, you may need a joyful dream AND a lonely dream to be able to place a unicorn on the board.

Speaking of the monsters themselves, they’d mainly be themed after imaginary creatures and figures of myth. Kings, queens, spirits, unicorns, talking dolls, flying pigs, fairies both good and evil...basically anything that could be considered a ‘flight of fancy.’ 

A Belwyn campaign a la Leshy in Act I or P03 in Act III would take place in his magic castle. He’d tell you you were there for a ‘sleepover’ and would be, at least on the surface, a very friendly and encouraging DM. Losing the game would not result in your ‘death’ like in Leshy’s campaign or in getting sent back to a checkpoint unceremoniously like P03′s. Instead, Belwyn would roll up his map, declaring that today’s session was wrapped up, and tell you to get a good night’s rest for tomorrow, when you would play again.

After this sequence, you would get a period of about five minutes to freely explore the rooms of Belwyn’s castle. Obviously, you can’t leave -- not right away, anyways -- but search well enough and you might be able to find where the other Scrybes are being kept. Leshy has been transformed into an Antique Teddy, P03 can be found in the form of the Tin Robot, Grimora is somewhere on a shelf as a Porcelain Doll, and Magnificus should be around as an Artist’s Mannequin. 

The Scrybes are obviously pretty pissed, and try to give you tips on how to escape Belwyn’s castle once and for all.

After you’ve talked to a Scrybe, or once five minutes has passed, you automatically get a short sequence of your character going up to the guest bedroom, turning off their lamp, and turning in for the night. This sequence might get freakier the closer you are to figuring out how to escape. 

Belwyn can usually tell if you’ve talked to a Scrybe and will make a lighthearted (and mildly passive-aggressive) comment about it, but he doesn’t seem overtly distressed about it...except if you’ve talked to Magnificus. If you have, he will look you in the eye and tell you to be careful, because the mannequin “truthfully isn’t a very nice person.”

Speaking of Belwyn and talking, he’s pretty chatty during games in general. If left idle too long, he’ll start talking to you, the player, about any number of random topics. Sometimes it’ll be general (usually surprisingly sensible) life advice, sometimes he’ll pull a Psycho Mantis and look at your Steam library to make a comment on what kinds of games you like playing, sometimes it’ll just be a random (only occasionally disturbing) fact he found interesting...

His aesthetic, for both his environment and his cards, is very gentle and soft and pastel. Sigils are represented with holographic stickers.

This is really funny when the other Scrybes start giving you cards from their own decks/systems and you use them against Belwyn, who is too shy/awkward/desperate for the player’s approval to take them away from you.

Belwyn’s campaign, like all of the other ones, has boss encounters! The first boss is The Mouse King, the second one is The Clockwork Commander, the third is The Under Queen and the final is The Mad Magician. 

He has eyes everywhere :)

[nervousladytraveler]

From Duty (Ch. 10?)

“Prudie? Is someone at the door?” Demelza called from the kitchen. It was the only room in the house that didn’t feel oppressively damp when it rained, compliments of the stove that remained lit most hours of the day.

She'd been waiting for the ancient oven to heat just a bit more before she put the newly formed loaves in to bake. After a few attempts--with mixed results--she felt she’d finally gotten the knack of the thing. How to time the fire so that it would be hot enough for the bread to rise and crisp but not so hot that the crust would burn. Perhaps there was a complex mathematical equation she could have used but instead she relied on trial and error. And on the days when she’d found mostly error, she solemnly chewed the dense slices of disappointment, resolved to do better the next time. She hoped the boys in Weapons Development were more methodical in their research than she was. Trial and error doesn’t cut it when you are trying to get a 5200 pound fighter plane off the ground.

Boys. Demelza always thought of the men in the armed forces as ‘boys’. Was it their merry outlooks, like lads about to go out on the football pitch against a rival school, or was it their immature aggression and unbridled recklessness?

“Prudie?” Demelza called again but when she turned around she saw the woman filling the doorway to the kitchen with such a grim expression that Demelza threw her well-floured hands in the air.

“Christ! What is it?” she gasped. Please not a telegram.

Since she’d arrived in Cornwall she’d received three telegrams--all from Ross--but those had been informational. Not coded exactly, just cryptically phrased.

Beehive is moving locations. Details to follow soon, signaling the office that had no name now had a new location, and presumably Ross did as well. Then there was Will send builders to fix roof first week in March, meaning his leave had been granted and he could finally visit her at Nampara. The most recent one was At old garden allotment. Many new vegetables. So Ross was back in London but had a new assignment.

Still for most folks, telegrams rarely brought good news.

“It’s...we’ve a caller...and…” Prudie stammered.

“Yes?”

“It’s her. The other one. Mrs. Elizabeth Poldark,” Prudie huffed. The shuffle from hallway to kitchen apparently had been enough to exhaust her oxygen supply.

“Oh?” Demelza said coolly but felt her face grow as hot as the coals in the stove. “To see me?”

Prudie swallowed hard and nodded.

“Well then. Please attend to her while I freshen myself up,” Demelza replied.

“How ‘xactly should I do that?”

“Offer her some tea, Prudie. Show her into the parlour...oh, but make sure she doesn’t sit on the green chair.” An old spring had poked its way through the upholstery and if one’s bottom wasn’t settled with precise care, an unpleasant pinch would surely follow.

“We haven’t got much left. Tea, that is,” Prudie said.

“Enough for a pot now?” Demelza questioned. This was news to her. She sensed Prudie was stalling for some other reason.

“Yes but then mebbe not for tomorrow or the day after that,” Prudie replied and looked to her feet so Demelza knew she was exaggerating the seriousness of the situation.

“Oh? Well I can try to get more,” Demelza sighed. It would mean begging for yet another ride in Sir Hugh’s automobile but might be worth it.

Perhaps she could forage for greens and herbs and make something of her own instead. She suspected Mrs. Zacky Martin might be able to teach her more about such country ways, perfected through centuries of economy. On more than one occasion the woman had mentioned her home remedies to Demelza.

“Well surely she has plenty over at her place. So why don’t you leave it for you--and me--and she can just…” Prudie huffed.

Demelza did wonder if Elizabeth Poldark even knew how to make her own cup of tea.

“Prudie, put the kettle on the stove,” Demelza said firmly and went to go look in the glass.

Her hair had been tied up in an old rust coloured scarf. She considered taking it down and tidying the whole affair but doubted she’d have time enough to do anything that would actually make a difference, so she tucked one errant curl under the band wound round her head.

Best to leave her apron on as well. It signaled--it telegraphed--benign domesticity and wasn’t that how Demelza wanted to come across? Just a simple housewife, trying her best to make do. Not as scheming--and pregnant--hussy who was actively trying to steal her visitor’s husband.

“Mrs. Carne, how do you do?” Elizabeth asked and rose to her feet. Her eyes darted up and down Demelza’s expanding frame then she demurely looked at the floor.

Demelza looked at her own swollen feet and tried not to laugh.

“Well, Mrs. Poldark, such a surprise. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Demelza said with as much cheerfulness as she could muster, then remembered she was supposed to be a war widow. She was sure her facial muscles twitched in confusion but perhaps it would pass as grief. “Prudie is making us some tea. I’m sorry it's so damp in here,” she said without offering to light the fire.

“Yes, this cottage has always been damp," Elizabeth said asserting her connection with the place. “And you are getting on well, Mrs. Carne?”

“Yes, yes I am. I have your family’s kindness to thank for that…”

“Oh? My family?”

“For letting the house?”

“Yes, the house,” Elizabeth laughed, barely disguising her disdain for the place. “It’s not mine. It’s been in my husband’s family for years. He was born here.”

I know, Demelza thought. I saw the marks on the wall measuring his growth and I found the cupboard full of his old clothes. I see the place as a monument to his family, she sees it as a nuisance and reminder of people she never loved.

“Was my husband, Mr. Poldark--was he solicitous when he visited last month?” Elizabeth asked.

“Erm…” Demelza tried not to choke.

“About any repairs that need doing. There’s a shortage of materials and good labour but if there is an urgent need I’m sure he can see that it is attended to,” Elizabeth said.

She knows.

“Yes, Mr. Poldark has been very helpful.”

“He fixed the roof!” Prudie chimed in and this time, Demelza was grateful for her assistance.

Demelza wished she could climb inside her teacup, far away from Elizabeth Poldark’s probing gaze.

So Elizabeth knew that Ross had visited Nampara--he probably told her that himself. Did she know how long he’d stayed or in whose bed? Did she guess that Ross was the father of the child Demelza carried?

She hated to admit she was jealous of Elizabeth Poldark. A woman who had all the claims to Ross--legally, socially--that she did not. And Elizabeth was a woman whose physical love he had enjoyed, presumably she'd his heart too at one point, even if it was long ago.

But mostly Demelza was jealous because she feared that, despite all she herself had shared with Ross these last four months, Elizabeth still knew him better.

[iovnyu]

not prepared. 

SUMMARY. you heard stories of past queens who had to deal with the suffering and pain through trials. now, you are doubting your skills and strengths after being put under tests to determine who can be queen. these trials do not guarantee that you will come out alive, but with the help of kings from other kingdoms – you might have a chance.

genre. prince! au, strangers to friends to lovers! au, angst, maybe fluff

pairing. [??] x female reader

word count. 1.7k

warnings. aggressive language? others tba

disclaimer. please know that the way the story perceives the members does not mean it is how they act like in real life. if you find any mistakes or points in the story that is not clear, please let me know and i will fix it right away. 

Royals don’t have it easy, Y/N learned that the hard way growing up. It took her awhile for her to fully grasp the situation that was being handed to her. She didn’t get why she had to compete with other girls for the crown. Granted, her father is a king of one of the biggest kingdoms but Y/N would rather worry about what she was going to eat tomorrow than fight more capable girls her age for some title. 

Her father, on the other hand, thought differently. This whole competition for the crown was the sole reason he wanted his wife to have a girl. Having a son would be great but if he had a daughter, it would fall in his favor. He wanted his daughter to become the next queen so he can have a bigger advantage over the other kingdoms. When he heard that his wife gave birth to a girl, he had never thought of anything else. To Y/N, he only cared about the title and the worth of others. Their personality? Completely useless to him, it was at the bottom of the list. 

It shocked Y/N at how calm he was when her mother died. To be fair, he did cry for a day and then shook it off the next day -- immediately arranging plans to get Y/N ready to become queen. It’s been two years since she has left and as every day passes, Y/N feels as though her father never really loved her mother. It was something she didn’t question about -- love isn’t real, simple as that. 

Although, she did fantasize about her future with a dashing prince. They would get a nice castle somewhere on the outskirts of the kingdom, have a lovely British Shorthair cat, and live happily ever after with him. This was quite impossible as her dad banned her from meeting other people outside of the castle. She is strictly ordered to do tasks around the palace and to never talk to anyone that she doesn’t know. 

Y/N only talked to the maids and chefs that she occasionally saw walking the halls though, she never had a proper conversation with them since they had more important things to do. The one time she did hold a conversation was with one of the guards that stood outside guarding the castle. You can even say Y/N’s life is miserable and she would agree.

If you are wondering how Y/N was schooled if she has never talked to anyone else, she was homeschooled. Her mother had taught her everything she needs to know. After she had died, Y/N had to ask the maids behind her father’s back to get ahold of school books. She quickly found out that her mother had taught her different lessons compared to those in books. Her mother taught more useful and reasonable things in life and the books were little to no purpose for daily life. 

“Princess Y/N, do you happen to be awake?” A deep voice said from outside of Y/N’s door. Whirling around in her undergarments, she walked to her dull-looking door. Opening a tiny crack, she peaked her head out, looking at who this voice belonged to as she knew it wasn’t her father. She was met with a young-looking face who showed no expression. “Who are you?” She asked, closing the door a little more in case she was revealing herself too much for this stranger.

“Lee Heeseung. Prince Heeseung, miss.” He said with a shy but firm voice. His voice sounded like how he looked -- attractive. Y/N didn’t notice how long she was staring at him in silence until he cleared his throat waiting for a response. “Oh, I am almost ready. Please wait in the dining area, I will meet you there when I am done, Prince.” She responded, gesturing over to where the hallway leads into the dining room. 

Prince Heeseung bowed to her and made his way down the hallway. It was already confusing trying to find Princess Y/N’s room as the castle had many corridors, some of them even being dead ends. He admired the designs that were painted on the wall, it had looked like the castle never had a speck of dirt on them. 

He had to pass by many rooms to get to the dining room -- or one that looked like a place where people eat. This room though, had looked dull, like no one bothered to repaint the chipping walls or refurbish the worn-out table that had tiny drawings on them. Heeseung tried his best not to let his curiosity get to him and sat down on a chair that was placed at one of the ends of the table. 

Y/N on the other hand was embarrassed as to why she thought it was a good idea to open her door in no clothes. She has never done that before so why, out of all days, it had to be today that she opened her door with her undergarments? 

She tried her best not to think about it as she got dressed in the lovely dress that was ready for her on her dresser. It wasn’t one of her long dresses but rather more of a short and comfortable one that she can breathe in. She lightly patted her hair down and walked out of her room and into the hallway where the guards stood, waiting for her. Y/N smiled at them, she suspected that her dad wanted them to watch over what she and Heeseung will talk about and to make sure Heeseung doesn’t try anything. 

“Good Morning, Princess Y/N. How did you sleep?” One of the guards asked her. It was a shame Y/N wasn’t allowed to know the guards’ names at all so, she assigned them random names. The guards that were walking with her are Guard Eagle and Guard Carrot -- Eagle was because he always watched Y/N’s moves everywhere she went and Carrot is because he would always eat her vegetables when she was little. It was really bad names, but they have grown accustomed to Y/N calling them random things. 

“I slept well, I could have slept better though,” Y/N said, looking at Guard Eagle. “How was your sleep?” She asked both guards who shrugged and continued to navigate their way through the hallways behind Y/N. They made it to the dining area where Heeseung sat awkwardly in one of the chairs, waiting for Y/N. 

“Sorry, I was not able to introduce myself properly,” Y/N said, smiling softly at the Prince in front of her. “Princess Y/N, as you already know.” She bowed.

Heeseung was in awe with her beauty, her smile was one of the most angelic thing he has ever seen. He didn’t notice how long he was staring until one of the guards that stood behind Y/N coughed. “Oh! Right, Uhm.” He got up from the chair and walked to Y/N. “Prince Heeseung of Minbury Kingdom -- it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Heeseung grabbed her hand and gently laid a kiss on the back of her hand. He turned to the guards and bowed to them too, in return they gave him a smug look.

“My father had told me you are just meeting me today, is that correct?” Y/N asked, examining him. Now that he was standing in front of her,  she was able to see him more clearly -- noting that he was an attractive gentleman and had a very fancy attire considering that he was just here to meet you.  Heeseung nodded, “Yes. I am just here to say a brief hello and I will be on my way.” 

Y/N nodded back, giving him a small smile and pointing to one of the chairs.  “Please, sit.” She pulled a chair back, waiting for him to take a seat. “Did you need any water? Or some food?” She asked, looking for the maids that were usually somewhere in the room -- in which they were nowhere to be found. 

“Oh, no thank yo-,” Before Heeseung could answer, Y/N made her way to the kitchen, still no sign of the maids. She frowned and started looking around. She had found soup in a pot that had looked like it was just freshly made and some bread that was laying out next to the pot. Y/N prepared two bowls of soup and a plate of bread loaves along with two glasses of water. Juggling the tray that held the food and drinks, she wondered how the maids would always do this for every meal.

“Sorry, it looks unprepared. I couldn’t find any maids to help me.” Y/N frowned, setting the table with the utensils before placing a bowl in front of Heeseung -- who gladly accepted. “It is okay. It is the thought that counts.” He said, smiling at her. If Y/N had a counter to record how many times her heart has fluttered, it would have been in the twenties right now. 

She placed a bowl in her usual seat and sat down, handing Heeseung a piece of bread. “That is a unique saying, I have never heard of that before,” Y/N said as she ripped off the end of the bread and eating the soft parts of it. It was a habit she has always done since she was little, no matter how many times her father has scolded her for doing so, she did it all the time. Her father would tell her it wasn’t lady-like to pick at her food and that no prince would want a princess who eats like an ogre. 

"My mother says that every time I would draw on the walls.” Heeseung laughed, recalling how his mother would try her best not to scream at him because he was just a young child who just wanted to have a bigger canvas to draw on.

The whole encounter with Heeseung felt like a blur to Y/N as they made conversation over random things, forgetting that they were just supposed to meet. Although it was only her first time meeting him, Y/N felt happy to have Heeseung’s company. She got to finally talk to someone else that wasn’t the maids or the guards, and she liked that. All she can do now is to hope her other trainers are the same. 

next -> coming soon.

previous -> the prologue. 

[love-and-monsters]

Sauriosapien

M sairosapien X F human, 6,429 words.

This story does not have a reader-insert because I wanted to focus a little bit more on some characters that I came up with. This involves an established relationship, some fluff, and four tiny velociraptors. Enjoy!

The sun was blazing hot in the sky, so much so that it was uncomfortably warm even in the shade. A heavy mugginess hung in the air, so much so that Grace felt like she was inhaling through a damp rag. Sweat soaked through her loose ranger clothes. Even with her sleeves and pant legs rolled up, she was still overly warm. Fortunately, the trees were closely clustered enough that the sun only peeped through in tiny patches, dappling a few small areas of the ground.

Despite being so hot that she barely wanted to move, her tiny pack of velociraptors was running around like their tails were on fire. Rococo was perched in one of the trees, chattering furiously at Boho, who had her head stuck under the roots of one of the larger trees. Minimalism was hunched behind Grace’s legs while Maximalism oscillated between chattering at her and trying to snatch one of the tiny amphibians crawling through the damp undergrowth.

“C’mon babies!” Grace called, her voice higher pitched. “We got hunting to do!” She lifted her clicker and pressed the button a few times.

Rococo hopped out of the tree and skidded to a stop in front of Grace. Boho was right behind her. Maximalism fell into line next, chittering eagerly until Minimalism crept up next to him. Grace cooed to them. “Good, good! Okay, here. Sniff this.”

She crouched until she was on their level and held out a chunk of eggshells. Rococo’s nose was there in a second, snuffling intently. The other three were less enthusiastic, but Grace made sure they all got a good sniff before she stood back up. “Okay, babies! Go hunting!”

She clicked the pointer three times in rapid succession. Rococo placed her nose to the ground. A moment later, she gave a triumphant croak and took off into the trees. Boho and Maximalism fanned out on either side of her, with Minimalism bringing up the rear.

Grace ran after them. Despite only being the size of cats, the raptors were fast. Only the rustling in the undergrowth ahead of her let her know where her pack was. They called back and forth, little piping noises that blended with the usual cacophony of the forest.

Running was easy for Grace. Her body settled into an easy rhythm, burning with exertion, but not agonizingly so. She kept up a steady pace, keeping her raptors just in her sight. They worked best when she wasn’t crowding them.

After about fifteen minutes, Boho sent up a hooting signal. The rest of the raptors peeled off, following her lead. Grace followed them, slowing her pace as she approached so she didn’t trample over anything important.

Her raptors were chittering excitedly when she came upon them. Between the four of them, barely concealed in the branches, there was a nest of off-white eggs. Grace crouched next to it, voice hushed. “Okay, come back, babies. Yes, yes, good job.” Treats were passed out to the whole team, with a special helping going to Boho. She chittered and preened, giving the rest of the raptors superior looks. Grace laughed. Their little competitions inspired them to work harder, and Boho and Rococo had a particular rivalry.

Treats dished out, Grace reached into one of her back pockets and pulled out a notebook. She jotted down her rough coordinates, the size of the nest, and the number of eggs. Donning gloves, she prodded and poked at the eggs, rotating them and checking for unusual shell weakness, cracks, or any other signs of disease. Satisfied, she returned the eggs to the nest and carefully covered them once more. She walked over to one of the nearby trees and scored the bark before applying a sandy substance made from a mixture of crushed insects. The bitter, acrid smell was sharp enough to make Grace shy away, but it wouldn’t bother the mother of the nest and it would let her raptor pack know they had already visited that area.

The nearby undergrowth rustled. Grace drew up stiff, her raptors circling around her. Rococo sniffed at the air, head twitching back and forth. Then she dropped out of her alert posture and chirped reassuringly to the others. The rest of the raptors relaxed and Grace followed their lead. They would only be this relaxed around someone they knew. So, the person coming through the trees must be-

A flash of green and pink darted out from between the trees and skidded to a stop. He stood just as upright as a human, but he balanced on large, bird-like talons. His tail swung behind him, acting as a counterbalance. A massive hot pink crest of feathers covered the last quarter of his tail and crowned his head. Fangs glinted as his mouth stretched into a smile.

“Gracie.” There was a slight rasp in his voice, a noise that traced deliciously through Grace’s head and sent tingles along the back of her neck. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Howdy,” Grace said, tilting her hat back. “You could have just waited for me to head back to town. I’m kind of working right now.” No sooner had the words left her mouth than Rococo charged their visitor. The rest of the pack followed her, working their small, feathered wings to propel their jumps so they could attach themselves to his chest. He staggered under the unexpected weight and sank to the ground, lifting his tail awkwardly to prevent his crest from getting dirtied.

“Seems like these guys want a break,” he said. Minimalism chittered wildly from her position on his lap while Boho buried her face into his head crest. Rococo, perched on his shoulder, made an attempt to corral her subordinates that was cut off when Maximalism started snapping at her tail feathers.

“Seems more like someone’s being a distraction,” Grace said. She gave a sharp whistle. Rococo, Maximalism, and Minimalism snapped to attention and formed their line in front of her. Boho kept her face pressed into his crest until Rococo rounded back and drove her into position.

He carefully got back to his feet, brushing dirt off his clothes. “I’m surprised you’re working,” he said. There was something deliberately airy and casual in his voice. Too casual. Grace paused, taking her attention off her raptors.

“Why are you surprised?” she asked carefully. She tried to rack her brain. Was she forgetting something?

“Oh,” he sighed, scanning the trees around him. “It’s nothing major. Only that you told me last week you were going to take a day off so we could actually spend some time together.”

Ah. Shit. Grace felt her face go hot with shame. Oops. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to- I totally forgot what day it was!” She considered blaming it on her unfamiliarity with the Sauriosapien calendar, but that wouldn’t have been true- even with the standard human calendar, she was always mixing up dates and forgetting things.

He frowned. His crest was pulled tight against his head, feathers tucked in to display his irritation. That was far worse than the aggressive puff he showed off when he was really and truly pissed; this was more akin to someone saying ‘I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed.’

“Look, I really am sorry. Uh, hold on. Let me take these guys back home and get a little washed up, and maybe change into some nicer clothes and I’ll be right there.”

He shook his head. “Don’t bother. You’re already out here and in the middle of work, and these guys are already all wound up.” He gestured to Boho, who was practically twitching with the effort of staying still and in line. “I was just coming to make sure nothing happened to you.”

Grace felt her shoulders droop. “Oh. Thanks for that.” Her eyes were stinging slightly with humiliation and anger at herself. “I’m sorry you came out all this way. Maybe we can go out tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “I took off work today.” Irritation was thick in his voice again. Grace slumped her shoulders. He worked in a particularly popular boutique and getting specific days off was always difficult for him.

“Are you sure you don’t just want me to go home? I can always do this tomorrow. I’ll just let everyone out in the yard and they’ll run themselves out,” she said.

He gave a snort, his lips twitching into a half-smile. “You remember what happened the last time they were in the yard for more than an hour without supervision.”

Grace grimaced. As many times as she reinforced the fence and made it taller, the raptors found a new way to get out. The last time, Rococo and Boho had managed to dig underneath until the chicken wire had come loose and had squirmed free. Everyone but a very lonely Minimalism had been gone by the time Grace made it back, and she’d spent much of the night tramping through the forest looking for them. “Then they can go in the coop. They’ll destroy it, but I can clean it up later.”

“That’s not fair to them,” he said, and despite the situation, Grace felt her heart surge with affection. Even pissed off, even if it would benefit him not to, he cared for her raptors. “You’ve already wound them up for work. Just let them continue.”

“Are you really sure?” Grace asked. He waved a hand at her dismissively.

“I’m sure.” He gave her a smile, though it was clearly tense and tinged with sadness. “I know you have a lot of difficulty with remembering dates and things that aren’t on your schedule, but… well, I really would like to spend time with you more often than a couple evening every week. And it’s frustrating when you don’t remember these kinds of things.”

“I know. I’m really sorry. It’s not that it’s not important to me. It is! It’s just… if things aren’t part of my schedule and I don’t have reminders, then I tend to forget them.” She pulled her hat off and ran her fingers through her hair. “You know I missed my own birthday a couple years ago?”

He looked at her a little blankly. “Er… that’s important?”

Right, egg-laying people didn’t think about birthdays the same way. “Uh. It’s like forgetting your hatching day, I guess, but birthdays have more cultural significance to us.” He nodded slowly, though he didn’t seem to understand. “Days just kind of all blur together for me. Time is a flat circle and a total scam and I don’t know dates very well and I’m sorry. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

He stared, but his lips were quirking like he was trying to hold back a smile. “We’ll have to work on this in the future. I just came out to make sure that you were all right.” He turned, waving a four-fingered hand over his shoulder. “I’ll see you when you’re home from work.”

“Velly, wait!” He paused, looking over his shoulder. Grace swept her had back up onto her head and offered him an apologetic smile. “I, uh. I feel bad that you came all the way out here for nothing. Why don’t you stay a little bit?”

Vel paused. “You’re working.”

“I know. But I mean, the pack knows you pretty well. You probably won’t be much of a distraction for them.”

He tried to give her a serious look, but his lips were twitching again. “I’m pretty sure that you’re not supposed to be on a date during the work day either.”

“No one will find out. We’re in the middle of the park. You just need to head back before I go to the ranger’s center. And it’s not like you didn’t already sneak in.”

He laughed. “Well. Yes. That’s true.” His crest fluffed up, his tail swinging back and forth. “Are you going to have to take me in?”

“Hey, if you give me any trouble, I might have to cuff you,” Grace said with a grin. She didn’t miss the little shiver that moved through Vel’s crest. “Maybe I’ll just restrain you and leave you in the woods for anyone to find…”

Rococo, apparently irritated at being ignored, took that moment to nip at Grace’s boot.

“Okay, okay! Come on, let go.” She shook her boot and the raptor detached. Rococo trotted back to the others, but Grace could tell her patience wasn’t going to hold for much longer. “Like I was saying,” she continued, turning back to Vel, “I can’t trust you to leave on your own, so I guess you’re going to just have to come with me. No trying to escape or anything.”

Vel grinned. “No, ma’am.”

Grace turned back to her raptors and clicked her clicker. They all skittered back into formation, looking up at her expectantly. “All right. We found one. Go get another one!” She clicked the clicker rapidly and the raptors took a moment to snuffle at the ground before plunging into the trees. Grace took off after them, Vel following her.

The raptors pulled ahead again, stunningly fast for such little animals. Grace followed at a small distance, careful not to go at much more than a jog. She was fast, for a human, but she couldn’t maintain the speed for very long. As long as she could trace their path through the trees and hear their calls back and forth, she could track them.

The bigger concern was Vel. He was already starting to lag, even after only a minute or so of running. He was not as well-trained as Grace, nor as fit, and no sauriosapien was as good of an endurance runner as a human. He might be able to outrun her in a sprint, but the further they went, the less likely that was.

Vel looked to be on the verge of collapse by the time the raptors called out again and came to a halt at another next. Grace, slightly winded, leaned on the nearby tree. Vel hunched over, making wheezing noises like his lungs were going to come out of his mouth.

“You good?” Grace said. He gave her a thumbs-up, then sagged all the way to the ground.

“I can see why they like humans to do this job,” he said. He rested one of his hands on his chest as he panted. “I think my heart’s going to explode out of my chest.”

“Hey, humans may be better at endurance running in general, but a sauriosapien could do this job,” Grace said as she bent down to uncover the nest. “Don’t throw your whole species under the bus because you’re really out of shape.”

Maximalism had found the nest, and he was crowing over the others, holding his second treat in his mouth like a prize. Minimalism crawled up next to him, chittering anxiously until he allowed her to take a tiny nibble of the treat, then he gulped it down. Grace waved them off, checking the size and integrity of the nest.

Vel, having recovered slightly, rolled onto his side to watch her. “What exactly are you doing with that nest?”

“I told you about this the other night,” Grace said, not looking up from the nest. Vel pushed himself up into a sitting position, shifting his robes around him.

“Yeah, but I had a hard time figuring it out. I’m better when I can actually see what you’re doing.” He crept closer, though he paused a short distance away, like he was concerned that his presence would disturb the nest.

“There’s a few species of microraptors whose nests have been damaged recently. There’s some kind of disease that’s been going around and causing all sorts of problems with the shells.” She covered the nest back up and scent-marked it. “I’ve been trying to tag the number of nests there are and making sure the eggs are in good shape. If we find any nests where the eggs look weak, we’ll tag them and collect the eggs. Hopefully we’ll be able to raise them until they can hatch and be returned to the wild.”

“Oh,” Vel said. He crept a little closer. “How’s this nest doing?”

“All good. I haven’t actually seen too many bad eggs in the past couple of days I’ve been doing this. Hopefully that means that the disease hasn’t been spreading too much.” She gestured to the raptors and clicked at them. They circled up around her. “And we’re keeping our eyes peeled for any rat dens we find. If we locate those, we-”

Minimalism let out a loud peep and darted out of the circle. She plunged her narrow muzzle into a nearby bush, snapping wildly. There was a squeak, some thrashing, and Minimalism withdrew her head. A rat dangled from her jaws.

“Oh, good girl!” Grace got down on one knee. Minimalism ran over, giving up the rat in favor of another treat. “Yes, you’re a good girl! You’ve done very well!” She carefully placed the rat into a plastic bag and eased that into her pack.

“What do you do with the rats?” Vel asked. He looked mostly recovered from his mad dash, his crest perking up once more.

“Send them to a lab. They usually run some tests on them, try to do a blood panel and figure out if they’ve got any diseases they’re spreading. There’s been some concerns that the rats are actually spreading the disease that’s causing the nest weaknesses.” Grace got back to her feet, her knees cracking loudly. “Ugh, I’m like an old woman.”

“And yet, you’re still more fit than me,” Vel said. He clambered to his feet and shook his robes free of leaf litter and debris from lying on the ground. “Do we have to run again?”

Grace laughed. “I’ll see if I can slow these guys down, so we can give you a break.” She clicked at the raptors a few times. “All right, slow, babies.” Rococo chirped in confirmation, then turned and chittered at the other raptors. Satisfied her message had been conveyed, she took off, the others fanning out behind her. Grace straightened back up. “Come on.”

This time, they went at a light jog. It barely winded Grace, but Vel still struggled to keep up. At least this time, he wasn’t wheezing so alarmingly when he breathed, so Grace didn’t have to be constantly worried he was going to collapse.

Vel was at least able to keep up as they tracked down and assessed the nests. The frequent breaks they took while Grace examined the eggs seemed to be helping him keep up, but by the middle of the day, he was definitely flagging. Even Grace, with her much better stamina and training, was starting to feel the beginnings of exhaustion.

“We’ll take a break,” she said, signaling the raptors. They were starting to look fatigued as well, mouths hanging open as they panted and their feathers drawn tight against their body in an effort to calm them down. “I need to eat lunch anyway.”

Vel collapsed next to her as she spread out a mat and set down her packed lunch. “Here. I brought some dried meat with me.” She offered him a package wrapped in paper. He opened it and pulled out a jerky strip.

“Thanks.” She knew it wasn’t his favorite, but he ate it without complaint.

“I don’t have much for you,” she said, digging through the pack. “I know running around all afternoon must be making you hungry. Er, I might have a few hard-boiled eggs.”

“I don’t want to take your lunch,” Vel said as he snapped down another strip of meat. “You need to eat more than I do.”

Humans, thanks to their endothermy, needed to eat much more frequently than sauriosapiens- at least three meals a day, nearly two thousand calories, compared to the typical two-meal, thousand calorie diets of the sauriosapiens. The sauriosapiens were only selectively endothermic, with their bodies heating up with exercise and cooling down when they were inactive or sleeping. That meant their bodies could manage with far fewer calories, though after running around for a while, there was quite a large loss of energy.

“Missing one meal won’t kill me. I’ll be fine.” Grace pulled out a couple of hard-boiled eggs. They were large enough to fill her palm, much larger than the chicken eggs she’d been used to at home. She passed one to Vel, who hesitated for a moment before cracking the shell with his claws.

“Thank you.” He took a bite out of the white, eyes drifting half-shut as he tasted the rich fattiness of the yolk. A lot of food in sauriosapien culture was fixated on fattiness and oils. It was an easy way to get calorie-rich food, considering that they couldn’t taste sugar and were fairly carnivorous. Grace hadn’t eaten much in the way of refined sugar since she’d arrived, only managing to scrounge a few pieces of fruit that she grew herself. She took a piece of dried fruit from her bad and chewed idly on it.

The raptors gathered together, chittering and playing with each other. Grace watched as they tumbled around, hopping over each other, nipping at tails, and generally enjoying themselves. She could see Vel giggling at them out of the corner of her eye.

“Thank you for coming with me,” she said. Vel licked some egg yolk off his finger as he turned toward her.

“Well, we were supposed to have a date today,” he said. There was a slightly sarcastic edge to his voice. Grace ducked her head, a flush of shame touching her cheeks.

“I really am sorry about that. I’ll make it up to you,” she promised.

“I knew what I was getting into then I started dating you,” Vel said. “Remember when there was a holiday in the middle of the week and you tried to go into work anyway?”

Grace pulled her hat down over her head to hide her face. “Ugh. Please don’t remind me.”

Vel laughed into his hand. “You were messed up for the rest of the week. Kept thinking you had days off when you didn’t… and the raptors were confused too! Poor Rococo, she started yelling at you, trying to get you to go out and then you started to think maybe she was right and not you…”

Grace swatted his shoulder. “Keep teasing me and I’ll make good on my threat to tie you up.”

“Will you?” Vel asked, his voice dropping into a lower register. Grace pressed a finger to his forehead and pushed him back, causing him to break into another fit of soft giggles.

A shaft of sunlight broke through the trees and fell across Vel’s face. His green scales gleamed under the sun, glossy as ocean-smoothed glass. Grace took a moment to just take in his face. His teeth gleamed, sharp as knives, but somehow also attractive. His eyes were glistening, beautiful gold. Grace swore that when the sunlight struck them, they illuminated like a chunk of pyrite. His feathered crest twitched and flared. The motion of the feathers was always fascinating, the way they ruffled in response to his emotions. Touching them was always a wonderful experience. Feeling their slight motions against her fingers was grounding, the reassuring contact of another living being that trusted her completely.

Vel was attractive, by both human and sauriosapien standards. The human standards would be satisfied by his reasonably tall stature with smooth, lithe muscles, his flowing grace, and his fine-boned face. The sauriosapien standards were satisfied by the bright green of his scales and the brilliant pink of his head and tail crests. Not only were they an incredibly vibrant pink, but they were thick and full and expressive. Grace had seen the interested looks of other sauriosapiens when they walked through town together. Whether or not they approved of his relationship with her, she wasn’t sure. She could observe their attraction to Vel with a sort of clinical detachment, but when it came to how people viewed her, she had no idea.

“Are you still hungry?” Vel asked. She looked down. His head had migrated onto her lap somehow, and the side of his face was pressed against her middle. “I can hear your stomach growling.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I know a place-” She trailed off. Huh. Maybe she could really make up for screwing up their date.

“You know a place?” Vel prompted, lifting his head. She turned her attention back to him and scratched along his crest in that just-right spot. He made a trilling noise and went nearly limp.

“Never mind. We need to get moving.” She carefully tucked any wrappers and containers back into her bag and swung it up onto her shoulders. Vel got to his feet, shaking some leaf litter from his clothes. They were in typical sauriosapien style, which meant they looked a little like a fancy hospital gown to Grace’s eyes. They were essentially robes that clipped together in the back, which gave ample space for their tail. She’d seen a few sauriosapiens try to put on human clothes before, which was always amusing. The head holes were never big enough to accommodates their stiff crests, and the pants were just a complete disaster, what with their digitigrade legs and tails.

On the other hand, humans who wore sauriosapien clothes, along with the inherent indignity of the outfits nearly always being too big, tended to have their asses hanging out through the tail hole, so it went both ways.

They started through the forest once more, this time with Grace reigning her raptors in close. A series of whistles and click signals kept them close by, though she couldn’t prevent them from running ahead at least a little bit. They jumped in and out of the undergrowth, scaling the trees on occasion and snapping at insects that settled nearby.

“Are we still looking for nests?” Vel asked. Despite the slowed pace, he was still panting a little. Going to slow was nearly maddening for Grace, but she slowed down a hair more.

“We’re going to put a pause on that for now,” she said. “There’s somewhere I want to check out first.”

“Oh,” Vel said. He fell silent, devoting most of his energy to walking. Grace focused her attention on watching the raptors jump around. Rococo snapped a bright flower from a nearby bush and bolted back to her, chittering furiously.

“Thank you,” Grace said. Rococo relinquished the flower when Grace offered her a treat in return and immediately bolted back to the others, chirping with excitement. Within moments, the other raptors were gathering up flowers and offering them to Grace. Her arms filled with the sweet-smelling blooms, the raptors chittering and hopping up and down around her.

“All right, all right, that’s enough,” Grace said. She waved her hand at them, dismissing them. They plunged back into the undergrowth to find some other game to play.

“Did you train them to do that?” Vel asked, looking at the flowers with amusement.

“No, they kind of trained themselves,” Grace said. “They know that performing certain behaviors will get them treats. If one of them sees another getting a treat for something, they’ll all repeat it until I stop giving treats. They know that when I make the cut of signal, though, no more treats are coming and they need to stop. I don’t want them completely stripping the forest of flowers to get treats.” She gathered the flowers in her arms into a bouquet. “Here.”

Vel blinked as she thrust the flowers into his arms. They were a cacophony of bright colors that complimented his brilliant pink crest. “Oh,” he said. He wasn’t able to blush, thanks to his scales, but his tail whipped back and forth so fast it knocked down a sapling. His crest flared, feathers spreading into a brightly colored crown. “Thank you.” He adjusted them to sit in the crook of his elbow. “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe. You’ve got a lot of admirers, you know.” Not only was he handsome, but his shy, slightly submissive personality was considered the height of masculinity to sauriosapiens. Sure, males were typically expected to make the first move in relationships, performing display behaviors with their feathers and showing off for any females they were interested in, but Vel would have had enough admirers that one of them would have taken it upon themselves to ask him out.

“I don’t know about a lot,” Vel said, his crest twitching with embarrassment. “And we don’t really give flowers as gifts. Carved bones or teeth are more likely. But I know flowers are more important to humans.” He removed one of the flowers with the longest stems and turned to tuck it into Grace’s hair. His claws were sharp enough that any touch against Grace’s thin human skin was dangerous, but she’d never felt any sort of threat from him. He didn’t even cut a hair as he slid the flower into place behind her ear.

“Really important is an exaggeration. But it’s a common gift.” She carefully adjusted the flower so it wouldn’t fall out. “Here, let me.” She plucked another flower from the bouquet, picking a pale yellow one that would offset the hot pink nicely, and tucked it into his crest. He made a soft rumbling noise in his chest as her fingers trailed along the edge of his crest.

There was an irritated chirping at her feet. Grace looked down to see Rococo and Maximalism peering up at her. Boho and Minimalism were only slightly further back, also staring. Their impatient gazes made Grace realize that she and Vel had simply been staring into each other’s eyes, not moving at all.

“We should keep going,” she said. She waved her hand to the raptors. They took off into the trees. “Come on.” Without thinking, she linked her fingers through his and pulled him along after her.

Vel struggled to keep up with her still, so she was very much dragging him through the undergrowth. He clutched her hand with both of his as he panted. “Uh. Hah… Could… Gracie, could we please slow down a little?”

She slowed her steps just a bit and he stumbled into her, letting his body weight fall onto her. She bore it with only a little effort. He was almost exactly her height, but all sauriosapiens were light-boned and limber, so he weighed less than he appeared to. “Do you want me to carry you?” she teased, thought she knew he would say no. It was probably for the best. She could have lifted him for a while, but it was awkward carrying something the same size as her and she couldn’t carry something even only three-quarters of her body weight for a long time.

“No. You just gotta stop moving so fast. I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack.” Vel lay a hand over his chest as he straightened up. Once he’d managed to regain his breath, he glanced around the forest in curiosity. “Where are we?”

The trees were thicker around them, their canopies clustered close together so their leaves blocked most of the sun. The humidity of the forest was thicker, but the lack of sunlight added a little coolness to the air. Without as much sun reaching the forest floor, the undergrowth had mostly cleared. The raptors hopped around the enormous tree roots, even darting under a few particularly enormous ones that bulged up from the ground.

“We’re closer to the middle of the forest. Come this way.” Grace picked her way over a few of the larger roots. Vel followed, his hand still gripping at hers. The ground grew damp under their feet the further they went. Vel managed it a lot better than Grace did- his feet were broader, allowing him to balance well on the spongey ground. A couple of times, his grip on Grace’s arm saved her from falling face-first into the muck.

Grace picked her way over the crest of a small hill and stopped. “Okay. We’re here.”

Vel peeked over her shoulder and his breath caught. The raptors, chittering with delight, hopped down along the sloping ground in front of them until they hit the waterfront.

In the middle of a circle of trees, covered with tangled green vines, there was a crystalline spring of water. Lily-like flowers dotted the surface, adding splashes of bright color in the green.

“Oh!” Vel said. His crest flared and his tail whipped back and forth. Grace couldn’t help but smile at the look on his face. “Oh, it’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen this place before. I didn’t even know it was here.”

“Technically, we’re not supposed to be here. It’s in the restricted section of the park, because of these.” Grace crouched down and pointed toward a particularly thick patch of lilies. Under the plants there was a tiny, darting crowd of fish.

“Because of fish?” Vel said, crouching next to her. The fish were small, barely longer than the first two joints of his finger, and mostly tail. They had mostly dull coloration, except for a brilliant red splash on their backs. He reached his finger toward the water, like he was about to stroke them, then pulled back with a cautious look at Grace.

“I wouldn’t touch them,” she said. “They’re sensitive little things. And they’re not actually fish. They’re the tadpole stage of a kind of amphibian.”

“Like a frog?” Vel said.

“Sort of. A little more like salamanders, actually. They’re about this big, only as long as your hand, and they’re pretty similar in coloration to these little guys. Mostly greenish-brown, with a big splash of red on their backs. They’re pretty uncommon in the area, though. Most of the time, they lay their eggs in the rainy season, when a lot of temporary puddles form. When they fully metamorphosize, they find a damp spot and bury underground until the next rainy season, when they can find a mate and lay their eggs.” Grace indicated the circumference of the pond. “This spot’s the only place where you can consistently find them. It’s fed from an underground spring, so it’s here year-round. Every year, you can find a few tadpoles here. We use it to keep an eye on the population.”

“How come no one’s allowed to know about it?” Vel asked.

“Uh, the tadpoles get hunted a lot. See the red spot on their backs? That secretes a kind of hallucinogenic substance. It’s deadly to sauriosapiens, and to most other species here, but to mammals, it acts more like a slightly milder form of acid.” Vel gave her a bewildered look. “Uh, it’s like a euphoria-inducing drug that can give you really nice hallucinations. Humans like it a lot. There’s a big underground market for it, so smugglers try to catch the tadpoles every year. But because the nests move every year, they need to look for them. We’ve done a pretty good job so far at keeping this spot safe- as long as they can’t find a regular spot to pull the tadpoles from, their hunting shouldn’t put too much of a strain on the population.”

Vel nodded. “It’s a shame. It’s beautiful here.”

Grace nodded. “It’s one of the prettier locations. If you stay here for a while, you can usually see some animals come through to drink.” She let her hands hang at her side, pinky finger just barely brushing against Vel’s. “Thank you, by the way.”

He glanced at her. “For what?” “For forgiving me. For coming along with me on my work day. For being understanding. For letting me speak about the tadpoles. I don’t often get to discuss these things with other people.”

“Oh. You don’t need to thank me for that. I like listening to you speak. You have a very soothing voice.” Vel was quiet for a second. “Oh, and you’re welcome.”

Grace hummed and threaded her free hand through his crest. His eyes drifted shut. He leaned back against her. A soft rumble sounded through his chest, almost like a purr. Grace felt her eyes closing as well. It was beautifully warm, and if she shifted a little and dangled her feet in the water, it added a cool, soothing element. Vel shifted a little to wrap his arms around her.

And then about twelve pounds of velociraptor cannonballed itself into Grace’s stomach.

She jerked, limbs flailing involuntarily. Vel’s head, previously resting on her shoulder, shot up. The soft dirt at the edge of the pond crumbled under their sudden movements and gave way. Vel barely had time to shriek before he slid sideways into the water.

Grace, sitting on a better-structured patch of dirt, didn’t slip, but was soaked anyway by Vel’s panicked flailing. It calmed within a moment when he realized the pond was only about five feet deep and he could stand pretty easily. He shook his head, spraying water from his crest.

“Ow,” Grace said. Boho, the raptor who had launched into her stomach, blinked innocently. The three other raptors watched with the wide eyed interest of children whose sibling had just broken a prized possession.

Vel spat out a mouthful of water. “Are you all right?”

“Nothing I haven’t been through before,” Grace said, fixing Boho with her sternest stare. Boho’s crest drooped and she crept off of Grace’s lap like a scolded puppy. “Are you all right?”

“Wet,” Vel said. He braced his arms on the bank and heaved himself up. “But not harmed.” He shook himself off like a wet dog. The water cleared fairly easily from his scaly skin, but his crest and tail were saturated, as was his outfit. Grace’s clothes were similarly soaked.

“I was going to suggest that we headed back,” Grace said, “but I suppose it makes more sense to wait here until we dry off.”

Vel smiled, sharp teeth glinting. “Maybe we should get out of these wet clothes, first? It might help them dry quicker.”

Grace lifted an eyebrow, but she couldn’t help a tiny laugh. “I suppose.” She smiled at him as he stood and started to undo the straps of his clothes. “I love you.”

Vel paused in his undressing to kiss her forehead. “I love you, too.” His grin widened and became wicked. “Now strip.”

[w2hazbin]

“Addict” analysis by W2

(requested by @legionarebrainy​)

The music video “Addict” was well-received by the fans of Hazbin Hotel and got a million views ridiculously fast. Besides the killer song and superb animation, it also gives us a closer look at Angel Dust, the only resident of the Happy Hotel.

So what exactly makes this video so great? Let’s take a closer look.

I think the start of the song is very telling:

“Till death do us part

But we're already past that phase

This is a brand new start

And I think I deserve some praise

For the way that I am

Despite having overdosed

And ending up comatose

I don't give a damn

I've let my emotions go

Fuck being a sober hoe”

So far, we don’t know much about Angel Dust besides that he was a gay man who died in the 1940s after an overdose. Angel is an asshole, but he is also a victim of fate since homosexuality was not exactly treated with... kindness back in the 40s. So when he ended up in Hell, he might have seen it as a possibility to start fresh since the sinners are free to do whatever the fuck they want and do not have to worry about consequences since, well... they are dead and in Hell. So Angel says “fuck being a sober hoe” and do all the drugs he wants since he can’t die of overdose, and he can have sex with as many dudes without worrying about the consequences. 

Angel likes attention and clearly gets it as a “slut.” Like when he performs as a pole dancer. And his boss Valentino, one of Hell’s overlords, is one of his fans. We even see something that could be mistaken as chemistry of a sort between the overlord and Angel(it’s not, but we will get to that).

But the gleeful slut Angel Dust is a lie. We get tiny flashes of Angel’s life outside his performances.

We see Angel being miserable and that his apartment is a mess. Despite being a porn star, his apartment is shitty. His best friend Cherri Bomb is there and is trying to comfort him, but note that he has her back to her as if he is embarrassed. And Cherri also looks like she is unsure what to do since she knows that he doesn’t want what he would consider “pity.”

We also have a montage of Cherri running around while either blowing up buildings or setting them on fire. It seems random at first, as if she is just doing it for the (no pun intended) hell of it. But it is implied she is wrecking Valentino’s property, like strip clubs and signs advertising him. It could be her very aggressive way of being passive aggressive toward the scumbag who makes Angel’s afterlife a (I swear, it’s not on purpose) living hell.

We see how awful Valentino is as he takes most of the money Angel earns and then forces himself on him. Angel is trapped in an extremely unsexy and horrible situation where he is essentially Valentino’s toy.

It is also implied that Cherri had her fair share of abuse in the past from this part of the lyrics:

“Yeah, you fell in love

But you fell deeper in this pit”

That, and we see glimpse of a one-eyes demon that Cherri apparently doesn’t remember fondly. Someone who made her “fall deeper in the pit” if I’m guessing right. So perhaps she can relate to the abuse Angel is living through. She apparently taught Angel everything she knows about causing destruction, perhaps so he had a chance of rebelling against his abuser?

The fact that they burn down the strip club Angel performs in at the start of the video does seem like a giant fuck-you toward Valentino who owns the place.

But they do not accomplice much with these acts since Valentino is powerful and wealthy and can just rebuild that place. It’s probably more of an annoyance than anything else. What Angel and Cherri do is more or less the same as toilet-papering someone’s house. Sure, it is revenge, but it is a hollow victory since it won’t actually change much as you only annoy the person. Yeah, they get satisfaction of sticking it to Valentino, but it’s not like they do it to his face. And they shouldn’t, since he is an overlord demon and can make their stay in Hell worse than it already is.

The video ends with Angel at the Happy Hotel who clearly looks unhappy, but he pulls away when Charlie tries to reach out, he even flips her off. Rather heartbreaking since Charlie genuinely wants to help Angel without any hidden agendas, but Angel is too proud to admit that he might need help.

A nice detail is Angel’s room where we see dresses and wigs. Seems like he has a passion for Drag shows. So he must at some point have given up on being a drag queen and instead became a porn actor. That adds another layer to Angel’s tragic afterlife as we see what looks like a broken dream. So much for “brand new start.”

The video ends with what I consider Angel Dust’s “sober” moment:

“I’m addicted to the sorrow

and the buzz ends by tomorrow

There’s another rush of poison flowing into my veins

Giving me a dose of pleasure that resides by the pain”

So Angel knows that his lifestyle is hurting him. He is addicted to living in a way that makes him miserable simply because it gives him a temporary adrenaline rush that he knows won’t last for long.

The thing about living in pain is that it can be hard to consider that your life could be different, some even justify their pain, telling others that you are more than fine. And that’s exactly what Angel does, he brags to Charlie and Vaggie that he is a hot piece of ass and that everyone wants him, That he is a celebrity. But the truth is that he is the abused lapdog of one of the meanest bastards in Hell. Practically no one respects Angel at all. He even had to perform certain... services to his landlord before living in the Happy Hotel since he couldn’t pay his rent. But he graves the rush so badly that he sticks with the moth demon.

But there might be hope. Sure, he doesn’t actually think Charlie’s little experiment actually works, but: “Maybe things won’t be so terrible inside this hotel.”

[hopelesshawks]

Official Accounts Part 36- Fight Club Shit

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Masterlist

“Wait, wait, wait what did you think they were planning?” Mina laughs. “I’m not gonna keep rehashing the story if everyone’s gonna keep laughing at me,” you protest. “I believe the words she used were ‘fight club shit’,” Denki cackles beside you. “Well excuse me for being incredibly suspicious of anything Hawks and Bakugo are trying to plan together that they think I can’t know about. It’s not like one of them has anger issues and both of them are competitive or anything,” you shoot back. “Hey dumbass! Who the fuck are you saying has anger issues?” Bakugo yells from your living room. “Technically you’re the one who identified yourself with anger issues, I didn’t name names!” you shout back. “Keep talking shit, see what happens.” “You wanna fight Kacchan? Let’s rumble!”

Before you can make good on your threat a pair of familiar arms are wrapping around your waist from behind. “I sat through that whole lecture on how I better not be ‘on that fight club shit’ with Bakugo not even an hour ago and now here you are picking fights,” Hawks teases. “Does it really count as picking a fight when it’s completely justified?” you fire back as you turn to face your boyfriend. “Yes, yes it does,” he laughs. “Whatever, he totally would have it coming.” “And then you’d both feel guilty about it for weeks.” “Hey! You’re not supposed to be able to read us like that yet!” you protest. “(Y/n) you are an open book written for very dumb children. It’s not that hard to read you,” Shinso cuts in. “Wooow, isn’t this supposed to be my party? Why am I being bullied right now?” “You make it so easy sometimes,” Kiri admits as he walks into the kitchen to grab more beers for the pong table he and Bakugo had set up. “Et tu brute?” you gasp dramatically. “You know we say it with love,” he laughs. “Hawks, Denki, you guys coming?” he adds as he walks out the room. Both men call out a yes, leading Shinso to grab his drink quickly before Denki drags him out of the kitchen. “You and Denki pong partners?” you ask as your boyfriend presses a quick kiss to your cheek before releasing you to follow the others out to the pong table. “Yep, you gonna root for us?” Hawks asks cheekily as he backs out of the kitchen. “Hmm, I don’t know. Kiri and Kacchan are pretty good. I’ll have to think it over and get back to you later,” you tease. Hawks shakes his head fondly but still throws you a smile and a wink before finally joining the others, leaving just you and Mina in the kitchen.

“I feel so aggressively single right now wow,” Mina jokes. “Your person is out there somewhere,” you assure her. “See that? That’s the kinda cheesy shit only people in relationships say,” she points out. “Well it’s true!” you laugh. “You guys are really good for each other, huh?” “I think so.” “I’m really, really happy for you. You deserve it.” “Thanks Mina. We should do a girl’s night soon. It’s been a long time since we’ve hung out just the two of us.” “You sure Hawks will let me steal you away for an entire night?” “I’d like to see him try to stop us.” That makes Mina laugh. “Fair enough. Speaking of, you may need to go celeb shot for your mans. Looks like he and Denki are getting crushed,” she points out. You turn around to look out towards the game and laugh when you see she’s right. “Let me go save my boyfriend and best friend from humiliating defeat then,” you laugh before quickly finishing off what’s left of your drink and walking out to join them.

Alas even your help can’t save Denki and Hawks and eventually they wind up defeated. Almost immediately Hawks is demanding a rematch and you can’t help but laugh as he and Bakugo start bickering. It’s a dynamic you were still adjusting to in all honesty. When you had considered the ways Hawks would fit into your friend group way back when you’d invited him to stay with you, you hadn’t anticipated he and Bakugo becoming friends. It was always a pleasant surprise when you’d discover the two of them were running a patrol together or if you’d catch one texting the other. They still bickered and if you asked either of them they’d probably deny their budding bromance but it still made you happy all the same.

Bakugo wasn’t the only one who had gotten close with Hawks. He and Denki had become close as well. You think it’s because Denki has never been opposed to filling silences. On days when Keigo is annoyed or stressed, when the pressures of being number two are particularly intense, he knows he can meet up with Denki and not have to say a word. He can just sit and listen as Denki rambles on and on about whatever his latest obsession is. On days he does feel like contributing, he’s down to debate even the weirdest hypotheticals Denki can come up with. You already have the sneaking suspicion that even if things end between you and Hawks, the two of them will stay close.

You’re pulled out of your musings when Hawks walks up and grabs your hand. “What’s got you thinking so hard little dove?” he asks. “Nothing really, I’m just happy,” you reply with a soft smile. He practically melts at the sight. “C’mon with me to the balcony, I wanna give you something,” he says as he gently tugs you in that direction. You follow behind as your curiosity blooms, but no matter how much you ask him what it is he ignores you until the two of you are alone on the balcony in the night air.

You wait for him to say something, knowing by now that it’s always best to just give him time to gather his thoughts. His eyes stay trained on the sky even as he finally begins speaking. “I know we haven’t gotten to see each other as much because so much of my work has been out of the office lately,” he finally admits. “It’s ok, I know how it is,” you shrug. “Yea but it’s a little weird after seeing each other almost all day every day while I was taking time off,” he replies. “Yea we got a little spoiled,” you laugh. “I miss having tea with you in the evening.” “Ugh yes. I miss you making breakfast for me in the morning, early bird.” “I miss you being there for me if I have a nightmare. I miss you playing music while you get dressed or do chores around the apartment. I miss you being the first person I see in the morning and the last I see at night,” he confesses into the quiet night. “Kei? What’re you saying?” you ask, sensing the subtle shift in the atmosphere that tells you he’s more serious than you’d initially thought. He finally turns to face you as he pulls a key out of his pocket and holds it out to you. “Will you move in with me?” he asks in a breath, the words seeming so delicate somehow, as if afraid they’ll fracture the fragile moment he’s created on this balcony with you.

Your heart stops and then immediately begins to race. It may seem like such a simple thing from the outside, a small step forward in your rapidly progressing relationship. Something that may seem like an obvious next step considering this whole thing started in part as a result of him temporarily living with you. You know the truth though. This is his “think fast”. This is his way of showing you just how much he trusts you, just like him telling you his real name was. Not only is he saying he wants you in his space, his home, but he wants you to be a part of it. “You ok there?” Keigo asks and god he sounds so nervous. But you’re realizing you’ve been quiet too long now so finally you nod your head frantically and take the offered key. “Yes! Of course Kei, I would love to move in with you. My answer is yes,” you laugh. “Jesus Kid, you had me worried for a second there,” he huffs but he’s grinning too as he pulls you in for a sweet and passionate kiss. Even once your lips part he keeps you close, his forehead pressed to yours as he lets himself truly relish in the fact he gets to have you.

“So when can I move in?” you all but whisper into the space between you. “How about tomorrow?” he suggests. “My lease on this place doesn’t run out for another month Kei,” you respond, pulling back a little so he can see you roll your eyes. “And? Bakugo and I could use it for our Fight club shit,” he grins. “Oh my god, you’re the worst,” you groan. You try pushing him away but Keigo doesn’t let you get too far, laughing as he pulls you back close to him again. “Nah, you love me,” he teases you. You shake your head but sober back up a little, looking him in his beautiful golden eyes as you say, “I do. I love you Keigo Takami.” “I love you too (y/n) (y/l/n).”

You don’t know exactly what’s in store for the two of you from here on out, but whatever it is you’re glad he’ll be by your side through it.

Author’s Note: I know beer pong is a very American thing but I feel like Kirishima saw it in an American movie and from then on insisted it be included at parties. Also bonus points if you caught the Umbrella Academy reference. On a more serious note this is it. The final chapter of Official Accounts. I’m so incredibly touched by all the love this fic has received and I’m so grateful to all of you who’ve supported me by reading, liking, and reblogging it. This became so much larger than I thought it would but I’m so happy to have gone on this little journey with you all. I love each and every one of you and hope you’ll stick around to see what I write next ❤️

Thanks for reading everyone! ❤️❤️❤️

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