#Owlish Monday

[arthistoryanimalia]

For #OwlishMonday:

Attic Red Figure Owl Skyphos

c. 450 BCE

on display at @pennmuseum

“Small drinking cups with owl and olive branch were popular in 5th century Athens. The owl was particularly associated with Athena, the patron goddess of Athens. The motif of owl with olive symbolized Athens and was derived from the city's famous coinage.”

[theweeowlart]

I wish you a very peaceful sleep this Christmas night. I hope the day brought good things and special memories. Night night everyone. 🔴I'll leave you with this barn owl in flight that I created with soft pastel.

[merakiui]

time loop angst where floyd is destined to live the same day over and over with you, and he can't understand why that is. it's such an unremarkable day, too. just the two of you living life. it was fun the first few times, but now he's lost count of how many days have been lived in repetition and it's so boring. the only thing that makes it bearable is his little shrimpy. he's happy you're here with him, stuck in this insufferable time loop, otherwise he's sure he'd have gone insane from the repetition.

it isn't until floyd realizes that, outside of the loop, you're gone. you've been gone for years, and you're never coming back.

suddenly, the happy days aren't so pleasant. suddenly, he's forced to confront the very thing he's been avoiding.

the loop will end once floyd finally accepts it and moves on, intending to heal. he's been so stuck in his own head, unable to let go of the ghost of you, that he's put himself in this loop.

the worst part of it is that you don't know anything. the shrimpy he wakes up to every morning is so very tangible. you smile, you kiss him, you hug him. your heart is beating in your chest. you're breathing, alive in his arms like everything's okay.

floyd knows it's not right to stay in the loop, even though he desperately wants to. it'll only hurt him more, but goodness does it feel wonderful to embrace you after years apart. half of him doesn't want to move on. it's difficult to get out of bed when he's grieving. it's difficult to find the motivation to breathe and eat and do everything that often came normal to him before your passing. he has to try.

even when he feels stagnant, crushed and heartbroken, the world is always continuing in its usual current.

he has to try. it's all he can do. move forward and try even when it's a challenge.

the next time floyd wakes his bed is empty. he sits up in a dark room, the curtains closed to block out the sun. someone's been ringing his doorbell for what's felt like hours. he peers around the room. you're not here.

the loops's been broken.

floyd drags himself out of bed. the floor is covered in clutter: trash and dirty laundry and crumbs. he should clean that. you used to gently nag him when things got too messy, and he'd always listen. he's not sure how many days or weeks or months he's lived in the same t-shirt and sweatpants, so it's refreshing when he finally strips them off and showers. he doesn't think much. he moves on autopilot. the water feels nice.

the doorbell keeps ringing. floyd, simmering in his irritation, throws it open, ready to deliver a hard punch to whoever's stupid enough to stick around and bother him on this unremarkable monday morning.

jade stands on the other side of the door, holding a bag from the local bakery and a container of what looks to be homemade takoyaki. azul is just a few inches behind, fidgeting awkwardly on his feet. he's clutching a bouquet. it's a happy one, unlike the many mourning arrangements that were sent by friends and family in the wake of your passing.

floyd blinks at them, confused. "what's up?"

they stare back, owlish. azul clears his throat. "you... you're doing all right?" his tone is careful, treading lightly.

"you haven't been answering your phone," jade adds gently, cluing him in on one of the reasons for their concern and, thus, their arrival.

"oh. yeah, my bad. s'not charged. kinda forgot to keep up with it." floyd cards his hand through his hair, exhaling a heavy sigh. "didn't feel like talkin' to anyone, so i didn't want anyone callin'."

"would it be okay if we step in? we've brought your favorites."

floyd glances into his apartment for a minute and then back at jade and azul. he steps aside, shrugging. "be my guest."

he's going to try. for your sake. for jade's sake. for azul's sake. for his mother and father's sake. for his own sake.

he's going to try. one day at a time.

sitting at the table, eating takoyaki and chatting about simple, mundane things, floyd feels peace for the first time in years.

he's going to try. one day at a time.

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Meddling Mar Monday

Back in order again, picking up with the boys being transfered from the tower to their new home. Chapter index can be found HERE

The building didn't look like much. It was the same sandstone and stucco construction as the rest of the city, with two separate staircases and doors going to two separate levels. The lower level had some yellow and white paint around the lintel in designs that were no longer fully discernible, and that was the only touch that indicated the building was inhabited at all. Damas rapped sharply on the lower door and grumbled under his breath.

He'd called ahead, of course. As the evaluator, it was his job to inform city landlords when a new tenant was arriving. But Alma was one of Spargus's more...eccentric individuals. She was an elder, and therefore held a place of honor in the West Quarter as a retired sharpshooter. Damas trusted that she'd keep these young rascals well in hand. But...well, she had always been a bit odd when it came to rent and trading. And she operated very much on her own time and nobody else's.

At last the door opened, and a diminutive woman with a sharply curved spine squinted up at him. She leaned on a driftwood cane and cocked her head to look around Damas to the boys behind him.

"About time someone sent me some more strong backs," Alma wheezed, "Am I supposed to drag my groceries home by my cane?"

Daxter groaned and buried his face in Jak’s scarf. "Noooo, it's another Samos!"

Damas cleared his throat. "No manual labor for another week, Alma. Petros's orders."

Alma blinked her round, brown eyes behind owlish spectacles. "Petros?! Ay, sire, the messenger said they were exiles! You're telling me that beanpole behind you is a minor?"

Mar tiptoed to peer around Damas’s elbow at the woman who was supposed to be their new landlady. For a moment, the elderly woman and the little boy just stared at each other. Then Mar innocently announced, "You look like a dragonowl."

"Mar!" Jak hissed under his breath, and lightly cuffed his younger brother across the back of his head.

"Hey!" Mar twisted to shoot a dirty look at Jak. "What was that for?!"

Alma blinked twice. "He's tiny," she said flatly.

Unbidden, the memory of the children collapsed in the desert surfaced in Damas’s mind. He grimaced.

"Aye. If there's any trouble with upkeep, I'll deal with it."

Blessedly, the old woman didn't point out that usually that was an assigned guardian's job. Damas didn’t feel like having to justify his monitoring of the boys -- or the gut feeling driving him.

Alma shuffled over a step and adjusted her glasses. "You! Tall child!" she beckoned to Jak.

Jak sighed and prepared himself for the kind of inane orders people always gave him. "Yeah?"

With a thump of her cane, Alma declared, "Rent is the second of every month. One whole conch shell, no fragments missing. And no critters inside! Can't abide them little pinchers."

Then she turned to Mar.

"And you! Pequeño, you know how to make bread?"

Mar, Daxter, and Jak exchanged bewildered looks.

"Kinda?" Mar answered cautiously. "Out of rice flour mostly?"

Alma made a face. "Rice flour?" she asked, "What does that taste like? Eh, nevermind. Go wash your hands. You're all helping me make bread."

Then she paused and peered at Daxter.

"Does he shed?"

Indignantly, Daxter puffed himself up and stood.

"He does not, thank you very much! This coat is made for waterproofing!"

Damas raised a hand between them as though cutting off an argument before it could begin.

"This is Daxter," he said calmly. "He is not an animal. He has a....a condition."

"Boy meets dark eco, dark eco wins," Daxter supplied helpfully.

The woman's eyes lit with mild interest. "That so? Here I thought the stuff just killed ya."

She took a dragging step away from the door and pointed to the stairs leading to the upper part of the building.

"You'll be up there, second compartment: the one on the left. But we all eat together. Keeps the lodgers from snacking through all their supplies and into mine."

Jak studied the upper half of the building and nodded. Space for the three of them, shared resources, and a rent he could pick up on the beach. That wasn't bad at all, really. In fact, it reminded him of picking up the once ubiquitous Precursor orbs all over Sentinel Beach to buy power cells from his neighbors. The heat was draining his energy far faster than he would have liked -- apparently Dr. Petros actually did know what he was talking about -- but still Jak itched to get into the water. He wanted to dive below the surf and look for forgotten treasures in the clear blue water, down where no one could bother him but fish.

It took him a moment to realize Damas was speaking to him. Jak tore his eyes from the direction of the sea and blinked.

"Huh?"

Damas frowned. "I said this evening someone will show you where and how to buy food. Help where you can, but keep in mind that if you push yourself too quickly you'll just end up in the recovery ward again."

"Oh." Jak shrugged. "I'll be fine. Hey, uh, how do you get to the water from here?"

Damas lifted an arm to point between two asymmetrical houses. "It's about five minutes' walk due West. You'll have plenty of time to explore after the noon rest. Understood?"

He was testing Jak, seeing whether he could take orders. Jak wasn't sure how he knew that, but he could just feel it. Well, lucky for Damas, Jak already felt somewhat indebted to him. In most cases, he didn't comply with orders unless he was getting something in return. Give and take, tit for tat. Owing a favor meant somebody had power over him -- and Jak had long since learned that someone having power over him meant that he was going to get hurt.

Sure, the desert people acted affronted by the suggestion that a couple of kids owed them for medical treatment, but when it came down to it, a debt was a debt. Jak wanted to investigate this society from a place of equal standing, not as a destitute castaway. He would tread lightly until he had the measure of these people.

"Fine, fine." He folded his arms and tried to downplay his eagerness to explore.

Precursors, how long had it been since he'd gotten to explore someplace new? At least he had that to look forward to.

"Thanks," he added, absent-mindedly.

Damas studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Prioritize your recovery over physical activity," he directed. "At least until Petros clears you to join the regular chore roster. I'll see you all later."

Then he aimed a sidelong glance at Mar.

"And Seek? Behave."

Daxter burst out laughing at the parting words. Mar folded his arms and did his best to glower menacingly at the king. Predictably, it was far more endearing than threatening. Damas cracked a smile and waved him off.

"You'd better get going if you want to help Alma make bread," he said, pointing behind them.

Mar hesitated. He wanted to ignore The Snitch as a matter of principle. But fresh bread was fresh bread, and he wasn't going to turn it down. He grabbed Jak's hand and towed him into the house behind him. No way was he doing all this lady's kitchen chores by himself!

Inside, herbs hung in bundles from the rafters, well out of reach of a frustrated animal trying in vain to get to them. It reared up on spindly black legs, dancing back and forth on cloven hooves and bleating piteously. Alma hobbled past it, ignoring its cries.

"Told you I'd get Leif to tie the herbs up if you kept eating them," the woman sniffed.

Dropping back on all fours, the creature bleated again and butted its small head against Alma's side. She pushed it away, nonplussed.

"Don't fuss at me! You were supposed to go back outside once you were weaned!"

Mar shoved past Jak and scrambled over a bootjack and short step to get to the animal.

"What's that?" he asked, staring into bright, slit pupils.

Alma squinted at him. "You never seen a caprid before? That one's a kid. Cabbie: the most spoiled caprid in the flock. Completely rotten."

Mar stroked the baby caprid's sandy brown head. "You have more?!"

Jak crossed the threshold to crouch next to him and run a hand over the caprid's velvety ears. "What do they eat? I didn't see a lot of plants on the way here."

"Cactus, mostly," Alma answered, "And anything else they can fit in their thieving little mouths. I swear if I didn't need the milk for cooking..."

She shook her cane at Cabbie menacingly.

"Half of your cousins: cabrito en salsa! Wham!"

Mar didn't know what cabrito en salsa was, but it sounded like food. He frowned and covered Cabbie's ears.

"Don't listen, kid," Jak said, patting it's short coat.

Their new landlady shook her head as if in despair. "Don't encourage him, he's bad enough already!"

[iamthecomet]

Nothing quite like spending the whole money you had for the entirety of the week on Monday

~owlish

I hate that. I'm sorry you're having to deal with it. I hope the rest of the week is easy on you and your money. ♥

[gaoau]

Monday 17th – A Joyful Afternoon Practice

The Girl Upstairs warnings — none. word count — 2.2k

prev. — next.

The joy Akaashi and his friends brought her could be considered a guilty pleasure. After years of chastising herself and slapping her own wrist to stay on track, letting her very persistent neighbor pull the strings allowed her to breathe in fresh air. [Name] knew better — she always did. However, she also knew that some things simply were out of her hands and she couldn't control every aspect of her life, even if she had wanted to.

It would hurt in the end. She knew that. She had made it a clear point when it all started to remind herself and engrave it in her brain. If she stayed away, if she let herself be left behind, if she kept the spotlight as far away from her as possible, no one would get hurt. Then Akaashi came around, and the temptation was far stronger than her self-restraint. Much like adopting a new puppy after suffering the death of a previous old dog; the new puppy grows into another old dog that will eventually pass away as well. The cycle repeats. It always hurts in the end.

But who was to say she couldn't enjoy it while it lasted? Make the most out of it. Have fun. Bask in the warmth and breathe it all in one last time.

What she had called Throwing away everything she believed in, Akaashi had insisted was a change in mentality. After giving it much thought, she concluded both of them were wrong. It wasn't a change, nor was it a sign of giving up. It was a door [Name] had locked tightly; a door Akaashi managed to kick down in a matter of forty days.

Almost everything came pouring out. Her passion, her tastes, her likes and dislikes, her desires, her ability to enjoy the sweet, sweet warmth. And there was no reason to hold them back anymore — not that Akaashi would let her, anyway.

It visibly surprised Akaashi when she accepted his offer to watch the boys' volleyball practice. [Name] had caught up to him on his way to the gym and informed him she wanted to tag along. Akaashi blinked bemused, eyes owlish and brows pushed into his forehead. She didn't know what reaction she had expected, but her cackles spilled out before she could stop them. He echoed her laughter with a small smile spreading on his mouth. 

[Name] followed Akaashi into the school's surprisingly enormous gymnasium. Being her first time visiting the gym since enrolling at Fukuroudani Academy, she couldn't help but gawk at how incredibly spacious it had been built. Upon stepping foot into the building, she caught sight of Washio and Komi setting up the net while the rest of the team warmed up. As she admired the atmosphere of professionalism in a mere high-school volley club, Fukuroudani's captain whipped his attention to the door.

His precious underclassman setter had shown up fashionably late and he couldn't wait to pester him about it. But then his eyes fell on [Name], standing half-hidden behind Akaashi, scanning the entirety of the gym and whispering words of awe. A toothy grin pulled at the corner of his lips, and he forgot all about his warm-ups as he sprang up from the floor. In a split second, Bokuto was already barreling towards [Name] like a wild beast, arms stretched above his head. "Hey, hey, hey! [Name], hey!"

[Name]'s gaze snapped down to Bokuto, only to find him shoving his palms in her face for her to high-five. She jerked back on instinct. Bokuto was a handful, and she'd heard every single complaint about him to ever exist come from Akaashi's mouth. Loud and boisterous, yet simply a friendly boy [Name] would've loved to meet under different circumstances. Despite her neighbor's words, she could never bring herself to resist the gleaming in the captain's eyes. Akaashi didn't lie when he said Bokuto would be ecstatic to see her.

Chuckling at his childlike excitement, [Name] slapped her palms against Bokuto's to entertain him. "Good to see you, Bokuto-san."

"Hey, everyone! Hey, guys, look! [Name] came to watch us!" Before she could react, Bokuto had dropped his arm around her shoulders and began dragging her towards his team. Behind her, she could hear Akaashi's exasperated sigh as he politely asked Bokuto to let her go.

"Oh, [Name]!"

"[Name]-san, hey!"

"Ah, [Surname], hello."

From every boy she had been introduced to came a welcoming greeting. Left and right, [Name] heard her name being called and saw nods of acknowledgement. For once, she had wiped every last bit of coldness from her mind, allowing space for Fukuroudani's warmth to seep in and consume her. Even while Bokuto kept her trapped in his iron grip and Akaashi tirelessly begged him to not suffocate [Name], her brain was too busy overwhelmed with pure mirth to break free from the captain.

Konoha popped into view seemingly out of nowhere. He grabbed onto her arm and tugged her out of Bokuto's grasp, much to Akaashi's relief. With only one word, he managed to make her burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles as she stumbled forwards. "Yeet." He wore a lopsided smirk and spoke with a nonchalant voice.

"Yoted." Never had it crossed her mind that inside jokes would become a thing in her life. But as she laughed alongside the Jack of All Trades, and heard Fukuroudani's captain whine like a kid, she couldn't care less and instead welcomed the change.

Akaashi blew out another exasperated sigh after hearing his coach scolding the rumbustious team. He approached [Name], still cackling with squinted eyes and bouncing shoulders. She excused herself from Konoha when Akaashi called her attention. "You can sit over there on the benches or you can head up to the bleachers. Whichever you're comfortable with."

"Ah, can I stay with your manager? You said Shirofuku-san was your manager, right?"

"Yes, along with Suzumeda-san. They usually watch on the benches."

"Oh, no way, Suzumeda-san, too? Cool then, I'll stay with them. Good luck with practice, Keiji-san."

They exchanged nods of confirmation before promptly turning on their heels. Akaashi walked over to his teammates to finish warming up, while [Name] shuffled towards the bench to plop down next to her two classmates, still chuckling to herself. She offered the girls a polite smile. When she stopped to give it some thought, she realized she didn't know anything about her classmates; the only information she had gathered came from how frequently they depended on her class notes, but beyond that, [Name] had never even formally talked to them outside of class.

"Nice to see you, [Surname]-chan." That was Suzumeda Kaori, who seemed to never pay attention during economy, and always ended up asking [Name] to take a picture of what she had written down.

"Good afternoon, Suzumeda-san, Shirofuku-san."

A hum sounded from behind her. Craning her neck, [Name] was met with Shirofuku Yukie's critter-like smile. That same smile that approached her after chemistry, because her handwriting was too messy and she couldn't make out what her loose sheets of paper said. "Didn't know you were a cradle-robber, [Surname]-chan." Her eyebrows danced as her smile morphed into a teasing smirk.

[Name] snorted, holding in her quiet giggles. The mere suggestion of dating Akaashi sounded incredibly absurd. "It's really not like that. He offered a while back I stayed and waited until after practice so we could walk home together. And I really have nothing better to do."

"Oh?" Suzumeda leaned closer to her, lips imitating her friend's expression. "So you walk home together now?"

"Neighbors should look out for each other, he says."

"Really now?" Shirofuku lifted a brow. "And you're saying you're not interested? I think you look cute together."

[Name] blinked while staring blankly at the two managers. Her and Akaashi? Together? The amused chuckles escaped from her before she could catch them. "Thanks, Shirofuku-san, but I'm honest—"

"Shirofuku-san, could you please not make [Name]-san uncomfortable? We're fine as friends."

"Oh, what's this? First name basis, huh?"

For the umpteenth time that afternoon, Akaashi exhaled a hefty sigh of exasperation. "Suzumeda-san, please." He hid his mumble behind his yellow water bottle. Of all things, he hadn't expected his managers to be the ones to put [Name] on the spot. His money had been on Bokuto, or maybe even Komi, but it ended up being the two other girls in the team.

And then [Name] laughed. "I know, he insisted a lot on that one. Right, Keiji-san?"

Half of his soul flew out of his body in yet another aggravated sigh. But the other half stayed to appreciate how far [Name] had come. It was a miracle she had accepted his offer to watch practice, and it was an even greater miracle to see her cackling in glee at his expense. Akaashi smiled to himself, watching as [Name] snickered to herself alongside his two managers. The deafening whistle of his coach blew loudly behind him and he knew there would be nothing to worry about.

If asked to list off her interests, the last thing [Name] would think of was sports. Volleyball was, as a matter of fact, a sport. A sport which [Name] had obviously heard about — living alone didn't equal living under a rock — but still had little to no idea about. Hell, if it hadn't been for her impromptu visit to the boys' club, she would have died assuming volleyball didn't even have any rules.

But it did. It had countless rules, an important position for every player, and a frightening amount of slamming an innocent ball onto the other side of the court. As a nihilist and a rational person, not many things could scare [Name]. Ghosts and urban legends were just that: made-up stories, much like horror movies; spiders, snakes, and any other poisonous animal was harmless unless threatened, and she had no reason to threaten an armless creature; Coraline was startling, not scary; clowns were a topic way too stupid to dive in. The list could go on, but so could people's strange fears.

However, some things could, in fact, make [Name] jump and shrink into herself for protection. Her newest addition to that short list was Fukuroudani's Boys' Volleyball Club's members, most standing close to six feet, and leaping to heights she never thought possible. While watching them practice and taking in the basics of the sport that Shirofuku and Suzumeda were explaining to her, [Name] realized how terrifying it was to see tall, muscular high-schoolers float in the air and blast — or spike, as Shirofuku had called it — a ball into oblivion.

[Name] stared intently, trying to follow the volleyball as the boys bumped it around at incredible speeds. It soon fell into Akaashi's hand — who she had learned was a setter and probably the most important player. Calling for his upperclassman, Akaashi tossed to Bokuto, whose feet left the floor in an instant while a toothy grin spread across his face. Practically floating in mid-air, Bokuto's hand met the ball and sent it darting like an arrow to the opposite corner of the court. The ear-splitting sound of his spike echoed through the gym, sending unexpected shivers down [Name]'s spine.

"And that was a cross shot."

"Holy shit…"

Bokuto threw his arms in the air, and celebrated at the top of his voice. "Hey, hey, hey!" He bumped his chest with Sarukui's and attempted to exchange a high-five with Akaashi. As he failed to get a reaction out of his setter, he whipped towards the benches, eyes glimmering brightly. "Hey, [Name], did you see that?! Did you?! Did you see that cross shot I just did?! Did you, did you?!"

[Name] blinked, still gawking like an awestruck fish. Her lips wobbled into an apologetic smile. "I'd like to say I did, but that was too fast to see. Man, that could've knocked my soul right out of my body."

Bokuto cackled, arms akimbo and chest puffed out in pride. "Hey, hey, hey! That's the power of an ace! Come on, guys, one more!"

Her meek words of encouragement didn't reach the captain as he was too busy celebrating his point. She was still blinking stunned when her eyes met with Akaashi's. He sent her a nod and mouthed a thanks, to which she replied with a nod of her own, albeit unsure. Practice resumed, the boys returning to hitting the ball to the air only to slam it down once more.

[Name] leaned towards the two girls sitting beside her, lowering her voice to a whisper in case anyone heard her — and by anyone, she worried about Bokuto. "Hey, uh, what's an ace…?"

Shirofuku and Suzumeda stared at her as if she had grown an extra head. Suzumeda was the first to laugh, soon followed by Shirofuku. "Okay, yeah, let's talk aces now." And the managers began explaining the concept of an ace. [Name] found herself smiling and listening closely, despite not caring if she understood or not. She had forgotten about it, but having fun felt nice.

[dollimusprime]

All The Dolls

The goal of this is to have a sort of directory of all my dolls; this will have some basic facts about them (name, sculpt, description to make IDs easier in the future, etc) and a portrait photo. I'll try to keep it up to date as the clan grows and changes, and it'll be approximately in acquisition order.

Ara

Sculpt: Impldoll Avery in dark tan

Faceup Artist: Sugarcoated Stars

Year of Purchase: 2021

Description: A dark-skinned boy with a lithe, rectangular body. He has a six-pack despite little definition elsewhere. His face is blushed noticeably darker and warmer-toned than his body. He has downturned elf ears, a stitched scar across the width of his face over the bridge of his nose, and a slight mischievous smile. His lips are cherry red like he's wearing lipstick. His eyes and scar are both silver. He has slight dark blushing under his eyes. His eyelashes and brows are cool purple, and his hair now matches with cool purple and hints of pink. His hair is shoulder-length and curly wool. In pictures before July 2023, he wears a warm purple, wavy mohair wig, also shoulder-length.

Nova

Sculpt: Seed.Arts Wol on Doll Zone B45-012 body, both in white

Faceup Artist: Sugarcoated Stars

Year of Purchase: 2021

Description: A thin doll with wide hips, which exaggerate how skinny her legs are. Her body has a yellow-green tint in contrast to her paper-white head. Her face is owlish, with large eyes and a hooked nose. Her faceup is styled like a barn owl; she has a dark line down the tip of her nose, small brown "dot" brows, and reddish-brown blushing around her dark red eyes. She has a touch of pink on her lips. Her eyelashes are black. Her hair is shoulder-length auburn mohair with a slight curl to some strands.

Monday

Sculpt: Goodreau Mirror in dark tan(?)

Faceup Artist: Company/dollsahoy

Year of Purchase: 2021

Description: A dark-skinned girl with a top-heavy hourglass figure. She has a rectangular face and a stern expression, with downturned eyebrows and lips. Her lips, fingernails, and toenails are painted cool purple. She has dark eyeshadow, hazel eyes, and thin black eyebrows. Her hair is a cool purple yarn, with the left side flocked, and the right side covered in chunky yarn "twists" that fall just past her shoulder.

Tian Ni

Sculpt: Huajing Doll Tian Ni in normal

Faceup Artist: Company

Year of Purchase: 2021

Description: A thin, pale-skinned girl. She has a soft, sweet faceup, with pink cheek blush and lips. Her face is gently rounded, and her eyes are a bit downturned. Her eyelashes are black and her eyebrows are blonde. Her eyes are pale blue with a bit of pink in the middle. Her hair is nearly white, with bangs that almost cover her brows. It falls to her hips, with a curl inwards at the end.

Suha

Sculpt: Black Cherry Dolls Zeri in dark tan

Faceup Artist: Me!

Year of Purchase: 2021 (received 2022)

Description: A dark-skinned girl with a pear-shaped body. Her palms and the bottoms of her feet are blushed peach. She has a tattoo on her right shoulder depicting the Big Dipper, rendered in white dots. Her face is square, with full lips parted to show gapped front teeth, a wide nose, and small eyes. She has freckles. Her faceup leans towards a natural look, with no eyeshadow and lips blushed slightly darker brown than the rest of her face, with a touch of pink in the middle. Her eyelashes are long and black. Her eyebrows are thick and also black. Her eyes are dark brown. Her hair is shoulder-length with middle-parted bangs, and is black and tightly zig-zagged.

Orchid

Sculpt: Nihilum Dolls Cusp in a one-off gradient

Faceup Artist: N/A

Year of Purchase: 2022

Description: A thin, wide-hipped doll with skinny limbs. Her resin is transparent. It starts as fruit punch red on the head and chest, fading to sky blue in the torso and upper limbs, then pale green for the lower arms and legs. Her fingers are jointed at the first knuckle. Her face is a wide, toothy maw with a tongue sticking out and small eyes on the side between the two jaws. Her eyes and tongue are a solid, matte pale green.

Fiadh

Sculpt: Black Cherry Dolls Agave in normal

Faceup Artist: Me!

Year of Purchase: 2022

Description: A pale-skinned doll with the same pear-shaped body as Suha. Her square face is particularly accentuated by a wide jaw. Her lips are thin and also parted to show gapped front teeth, though not as open as Suha's. Her eyes are small. She has medium brown eyes, long white lashes, and arched pale grey eyebrows. Her face is blushed pale pink. Her hair is curly and pale grey with a middle part, and falls to her chest. Some of the curls are much thicker than others.

Megu

Sculpt: Volks Megu on a DearSD body in normal

Faceup Artist: Company

Year of Purchase: 2022 (cast approximately 2015)

Description: A toddler-like doll with an immature body. Her face is heart-shaped, with a pointed chin, big eyes, and a slightly open mouth. She has pale, warm pink blushing. Her skin is pale with a slight yellow tone. Her eyes are dark brown, and her eyelashes and eyebrows are medium brown. Her hair is a nearly black purple, with choppy bangs covering her brows. It falls past her waist and has a slight curl at the end.

Nikki

Sculpt: Ringdoll Nikki in normal

Faceup Artist: Company

Year of Purchase: 2023

Description: A pale-skinned doll with a slight pear body. She has a sweetly sorrowful expression, with slightly open, downturned lips and upturned eyebrows. She has three red stripes under her right eye. Her lips are pinkish red. Her open eye is pale blue; her left eye is closed and covered with a white eyepatch that has a black X on it. Her eyelashes are black and her eyebrows are mousy brown. Her hair is white and falls just past her shoulders; it's straight and has a middle part.

Captain Thalassus

Sculpt: Goblin Tales BJD Cassie in Blue

Faceup Artist: Me

Year of Purchase: 2023

Description: A fat 1:4 scale doll with an hourglass shaped body and a more realistically proportioned head than most dolls. Her face is rectangular with a double chin and hints of her cheekbones. His eyes are small, and his nose and mouth are neither particularly large nor small. She wears a wavy red wig with a single braid on one side in front. Her eyebrows are arched upwards and are a similar color. One of his eyes is gold and the other is silver; both have gears in them and are steampunk themed. His lips are blushed teal, as is the area around his eyes and cheeks. She has multiple scars; one across her nose and a couple on both sides of her head. There's also two larger ones crossing from her forehead down through her eyebrows and eyes, leading to her mouth. Those two have color shifting blue-purple shimmer in them and look unhealed compared to the others.

Clover

Sculpt: Dream Valley Olivia Rabbit in white (dyed)

Faceup Artist: Me

Year of Purchase: 2023

Description: A 45cm slim MSD. She has a thin body with a slight pear shape. Her legs are anthro rabbit legs, with digitigrade jointing, sculpted tufts of fur, and fluffy round rabbit feet. She has sculpted fur tufts and pointy nails on her hands, too. She has a magnetic bunny tail and large upright bunny ears. She is dyed pale tan and lilac to resemble a dilute blue tortie rabbit. Her facial features are small with a serene but aware expression. She has pointed ears where they'd normally be on a human. Her faceup is subtle with bare hints of blushing, soft pink lips and a touch of pink on the underside of her nose, and white lashes and brows. Her eyes are pastel yellow-blue-pink tricolor with white gems for the pupil. Her wig is the same color, has bangs, and has loose ringlets that fall to her mid-back.

Incoming Dolls

Faewoods Dolls Cattleya

MerryDollRound Fang

Past Dolls

Resinsoul Zhen in dark grey with transparent fantasy parts (Beryl)

[heliosthegriffin]

Class of One - Chapter Nine

“Andthatclass iswhy Generallaguneisatotalfailure asaleaderandasahunters, leadingtothedeathandfailureof hismen.” Doctor Oobleck was a machine gun that fired words on a good day, once he had espresso it was like trying to capture lightning in a bottle, attempting to listen to him.

Thankfully, in his three months of acting as a Teacher’s Aide here at Beacon, unpaid too, he had managed to develop a knack for understanding what his (Teacher?), well what the good Doctor was trying to say.

Taking a second to comprehend what was just said, Jaune did his best to put it simply. “General Lagune, is one of the leading reasons why the Faunus Revolution succeeded, he was not good as either a huntsman or general, which is why his own men had him shot so they could deliver him to the Faunus Revolutiarys as a token of surrender.”

The class let out a collective sigh of relief as the TA/Miracle Boy once again put Oobleck’s rambling into cohesive form.

“Notexactly how I would putit, butfairenough,” The bell than rang, announcing the end of this period. “Goodwork class, remembertoread up!”

“Do read p177-233 in Inter-Kingdom History for Mondays quiz,” Jaune chimed in.

Over the next couple minutes, Jaune and Oobleck where asked the odd question by some left over students while the rest filtered out into the hallway.

Eventually, they got all them answered, even if took Jaune a minute to translate a couple.

By then the excess energy had left the good doctor. “Take you again, Jaune. It is a much appreciated help.”

Jaune smiled. “Eh, it’s nothing, I mean I got to make my grade somehow, right?”

“Hah,nothing he says! My boy, this is quite the opposite of nothing, it’s quite something! I’ve seen what you get up to in your spare time, and it’s nothing less than exceptional.”

Jaune’s cheeks gained some color under Ooblecks praise, feeling quite embarrassed by how much trouble seemed to follow him.

“It’s just coincidence..”

“HA, I sincerely doubt that, once is odd, twice is a coincident, but dozens of times more? That boy is the sign that you are a true historical figure in the making! I feel honored that you spend any length of time here, my boy. As, I am 100% sure! That Ozpin would make exception after exception to keep you here!” The Doctor gained a sly smile. “But, just between you and I, I’m sure it’s for prestige and the fact the Council fears you, and since you’re here, that means they fear Ozpin, and he can pressure them for more Lien!”

Jaune gained a wide-eyed owlish look. “That’s why every thing is getting replaced since I got here.”

“Oh, most certainly, Ozpin is pressuring the hell out of the Council, new and old!” Jaune chuckled, they had no reason to fear him, unless they had something to hide? But, what are the odds of that?

Especially, since that crazy first week in Vale he had must had more than half the Councilors arrested.

I mean, why would continue to commit crimes against Vale, when they were under more scrutiny than ever?

“So, once again, thank you for taking the time out of your day to help my lesson.”

Jaune shrugged. “It’s fine, I enjoy history.” Especially learning what led to other people in powers falling out of power, so when it was inevitably discovered what a fraud he was he’d manage to cover his ass as much as possible.

Oobleck then gave him a true smile, and pulled something of his desk. “I am glad to hear that,” He handed Jaune a expensive look pen and a leather-bound note book, pushing them into his hands. “Here it is yours, record your thoughts for the people of the future.”

Jaune looked at the sudden gift. “Oh wow, uh, thanks, I guess?” A present was a present, even if it wasn’t something he had ever wanted.

“You’re welcome, as a historian, the preservation of knowledge is one of my most vital tasks for future generations.” The teacher paused. “Not to pressure you, my boy. It’s just something that can help with organizing one’s thoughts, and help with thinking things out. I hope you find it useful.”

A feeling of discomfort went through him, though. Jaune feeling disappointed in himself for almost discounting the gift.

Letting out a slow breath, Jaune nodded. “Thank you, I’ll put it to use when I have the time.” “That’s all I ask, now I believe you have other matters to attend too.”

“Yeah, I go, see you later, Doc,”

“It’s Prof-! I mean Doctor! Nevermind.”

Jaune snorted and left the classroom, having to assist with Ms. Goodwitch’s class next.

Only to knock into someone as he was turning past a corner.

“Oh, shoot!” Jaune said as he stumbled back, “My bad,” He turned to look at who he ran into, only to not see anyone in front of him.

He looked down, to see a petite girl with ash grey hair looking at him from the floor with a gloomy expression, and irritated eyes.

“Um, my bad?” Jaune said sheepishly, holding out a hand to what was presumably his senior.

Her eyes narrowed, they were quite pretty, but that didn’t really say much at Beacon.

But, they were a interesting red with a black sclera, they weren’t really like-

CHOMP

“OWWWW OWWWCH!” She bit him!

“Dear gods, why?!” Jaune yelled as he failed around trying to get the little shit that was biting his hand to let go.

He swung his hand at a wall, lifting all of her small body into air, she was growling like a damn animal!

Then smashed her against the wall.

But, instead of her aura blocking the damage, she disappeared. Her whole body rippling like water, turning translucent, and then she was gone.

Jaune groaned, and looked at his throbbing hand. “She left marks...”

“Who even was she?” Shaking his head to put that behind him. “Whatever, I’ll figure it out later.”

-----

Jaune realized something watching his seniors sparring under Goodwitches firm gaze, while he stood beside her.

His own senses had grown strangely, recently, he had been using his aura constantly, making sure to constantly be reinforcing his body with it.

All of his body, including his eyes, tongue, skin, nose, and ears.

He could experience aura with all five of his senses.

Jaune could see the color of a person’s soul.

He could hear the sound of it.

He could smell it.

He could taste it.

He could feel the texture of one’s soul.

Pretty creepy, right?

Including his own. Yeah, Jaune tried some of his soul.

It was a bit weird, like swallowing the saliva in your mouth, flavorless, but it was there. He could pick up hints of a warm vanilla, though, with a faint smell of a warm spring day.

The sound was off, like listening to your own voice without it being recorded, distorted and off. The sound was gentle, though, and made him relax, with a feeling of warmth that spread across him.

Touching, it was a kinda of numbish and sensitive at once, like a foot waking up after falling asleep. It felt like touching a warm blanket though.

He didn’t start go around smelling and licking people souls though, that would just be weird. He had enough problems without being labeled a degenerate.

It was pretty annoying, though, like walking into a party where a dozen dj’s of conflicting musical tastes were jamming.

Still Jaune could live with it, but stand out among them, were Ms. Goodwitch, Amber, and Ozpin.

Ms. Goodwitch had a lavender colored soul, with sound of classical music mixed to the sounds of people dancing and laughing, a smell like fine wine and old ink, and a semblance that looked like a thousand hands coming off of her, ranging in size from as small as a pebble to larger than tank.

Amber had a dual color soul, a soft brown like caramel that covered a burning fire that was all the colors of the fall season, a sound like wind whistly through a forest and the trotting of hooves on dirt, and a semblance that took the form of windstorm around her, that burned with a strange fire barely held back.

Finally, Ozpin was the weirdish of all, the sound of cries in the thousands, a mournful cry, long and accepting, but tired and determined, mixed to the sound of progress, a sound of gears intertwined with the march of steps taken in unison, as if there was a army marching around him.

His soul painted a brilliant emerald color, but like a geode cracked open, inside it was layers of emerald, only slightly off, darker or lighter, but all the same color, just different shades, till at the center was a soft green light.

His soul was a neutral smell, mixed with something Jaune had never encounter it before, but it reminded him of Amber oddly enough, like a natural and chemical, electrical smell, but full of power.

It was strange, horrifying, and maddening to look at.

Jaune kind of liked it.

That said, he had no idea, how this was going to be helpful in the future, it seemed like it would just give him distraction in combat.

But, there was the upside, that he could see his aura as he tried to move it now.

Aura seemed to be like a liquid, conforming to the shape of the container that it filled. If he held a sword, that sword was now filled with aura, if he put on clothes those clothes had aura in them.

If he wore nothing, his aura would just take the shape of his body, like a second shiny, glowy skin.

When he strengthen his aura, it shone less, but the density increased like it was becoming more solid.

Like flexing a muscle made of water.

Unfortunately, when he tried to drop his sword, to see if he could keep the shape of the sword in his aura.

Then he tried throwing it as it was melting,-

“Mr. Arc, do that the thing, you do.” Ms. Goodwitch asked him, touch his shoulder with a psychic push. “They are getting out of hand.”

Jaune nodded. “Gotcha.” His hand resting on his ancestral blade briefly, just enough time to get the shape, then quick as he could, he swung his hand out in-between the quarreling students who were running dangerously low on aura.

From his hand came a ghostly sword that soared through the airs at dangerous speeds, landing in between the two students with a crack, where it briefly stayed stabbed into the ground before cracking into pieces that floated away.

It got they’re attention, Jaune turned to his teacher. “Why didn’t you just use your semblance?”

She smiled at him. “I just think it’s neat,”

“Ah,”

“Do, you have a name for it?”

“Not particularly,”

“If you’re willing to take suggestion, how about Projection?”

“I could live with that name.” Jaune nodded, already thinking on other uses he could have for his Projection skill.

“By the way, is that you’re semblance?” His teacher asked.

Jaune thought on it for second, but shook his head.  “No, it’s not, just something I figured out recently.”

“Well, keep at it then, with your talents, it’s only a matter of time.”

The other students listened with rapt attention, interested in how they could too throw ghost weapons.

------

It had been a long day, helping his dust mine get off the ground, but thankfully, the guy from the miner’s guild he met so long ago, was happy to help... For a fee, at a discount, at least.

Jaune shrugged and stretched in his chair in his penthouse suite in the Vista, it’d pay off eventually, hopefully.

Because, if it failed...

Well, nothing horrible would happen to be honest, he was making more money than he knew what to do with on a good day.

He could keep the mine running on his pocket change at this point.

And to think, four months ago he came to Vale almost broke.

Jaune smiled, his family was alright financially, but now, he made sure they weren’t going to worry about anything... Long as they burned the photos, and sold him on what they wanted money for, and actually worked at least a little bit.

He had kinda, sort of, worked for this money! He would not let his family become a bunch of deadbeats.

In particular, Saphron, that girl had expensive tastes, good thing she had Terra to ground her down.

Jaune’s ears twitched, as he heard a low, peaceful melody, before he heard a knocking at the door. It was his manager of the Vista, Ezekiel.

“Come in,” Jaune said.

“Good evening, Master Arc, I come with snacks and tea.”

Jaune smiles quirked up, he had come to like snacks and tea.

“Also, I scheduled a interview Lisa Lavender for you tomorrow, have a good night, young master.”

Jaune paled.

[kuroopaisen]

dawn. (sakusa kiyoomi)

➵  even monsters should have someone to bring them flowers.

wc: 3k

warnings: gn!reader, vampire!sakusa, visceral depiction of raw meat?

a/n: the biggest of thank yous to ren, as usual :( she doesn’t even like fantasy aus and yet she’s beta’d a fair chunk of them. as always, her advice is invaluable, and she helped polish this into something worthwhile. 

A note on the table.

The only sign you’d been here. That, and your lingering scent – warm, golden, comforting. 

He was almost sad that he’d missed you.

But the words in your letter would have to tide him over until your next conversation.

“Good morning! I hope you are well-rested this evening. I have left this meat here as requested. I couldn’t help but wonder what dishes you make with it. Are you much of a cook? If not, I am happy to try and prepare something for you. I cannot guarantee that it will be to your taste, but I will try my best!”

He let his eyes linger on it for a moment. He wondered how his chest might feel, if he was fully alive. Tight, maybe. Fuzzy.

Now, the thrum of emotions just made his senses sharper.

And that made him uncomfortable.

He turned his eyes to the parcel sitting to the side of your note.

He unwrapped the paper packaging with a trembling gloved hand.

The ripest cut of the belly. It sat in a pool of its own liquids, a crimson slab marbled with white. He knew that there wasn’t a sufficient amount of blood in it – but it’s all he could handle. All he could stomach. 

He took a deep breath. The air in his lungs did nothing for him, but some habits were harder to break than others, even if it had been a couple hundred years. 

He picked up the meat with both hands, holding it just shy of his mouth. His face crinkled as the scent filled his nose, putrid, offensive, intoxicating. 

It’s disgusting. But it’s what he had to do.

He sunk his fangs into the meat, the damp flesh pressing against his chin. He could feel the juices running down his chin, and he shivered. His eyes fluttered shut, perhaps in some attempt to steel himself. 

It’s not blood. It wouldn’t sustain him.

Instead, it would just make him sick.

This meat, this scant amount of blood threaded throughout it, wasn’t enough to sustain him. But he’d rather go hungry than go out for a hunt, either for animal or human.

The thought was absolutely abhorrent, both in its ethicality and hygiene.

This meat was not enough to sustain him. But it would stave off the hunger, at least for a few days. At least until the next slab of meat, when he would feel this all again.

He’s trembling as he drank, hoping, wishing that it would be over soon.

A loud gasp sliced through the kitchen.

Sakusa tore his fangs out of the meat, his head whipping around.

You were stood in the doorway, eyes wide and hands clamped over your mouth.

At your feet laid a bunch of sunflowers.

You stared at each other for a long moment.

What was he supposed to do? To say?

He knew what he looked like. Sharp fangs poking through his lips, red staining his chin, the veins running along his jaw dark beneath his skin as he fed.

“Sakusa, sir…” There was a tremble in your voice. He despised the sound.

“Get out.”

“Sir—”

“Get out.”

You knew now. You knew that he was a monster. That he was disgusting. You’d seen it with your own eyes – eyes full of terror. Eyes he’d never wanted to look at him like that.

You waited for just a moment. And then you were gone.

Sakusa let the meat fall out of his hands and plop onto the wrapping. His appetite had entirely disappeared despite the fact he wasn’t nourished. He closed his eyes, trying to round up his whirling thoughts. 

You’d seen him. You’d seen him in all his disgrace. You’d seen him as the monster he was. 

He swallowed roughly, turning his gaze to the doorway. 

The sunflowers were where you’d dropped them, scattered across the floor.

Were they why you’d come back? You shouldn’t have been here. You should’ve left after finishing your jobs.

But it was just like you to bring him flowers on a whim.

He sighed, stalking over to them and picking them up with a grimace. The least he could do was to give them some water.

✧ ✧

Vampires didn’t need sleep, but Sakusa liked to pretend he did anyway.

He always had. He just did his best to quiet his mind, lying under his covers as he waited for the hours to ebb by. He couldn’t leave the house during the day; if he tried, he would simply shrivel up and crumble in the sun.

He’d tried facing the sun, once. The burn had been unlike any pain he’d felt before.

And yet sometimes he'd leave the curtains open, just a crack. And he'd lie on the couch, watching the light filter in. Sometimes, he'd even let himself remember what the sun felt like.

But every evening, he had to ‘wake’ as the sun set, watching the light shrink away from him.

That evening though, something was different. Something shook him from his self-induced slumber with an abrupt shock.

That scent. Blood.

He shot to his feet, head whipping around in the direction of the smell. It was heavy, oppressive, so thick that he couldn’t think of anything else.

He stumbled into the kitchen, hoping, begging that he might find some relief.

In the middle of the kitchen table sat a bucket. Sakusa took a series of slow, laboured steps towards it, gripped by some half-conscious fear.

A letter laid next to it, written in a familiar scrawl.

“Sir, I admit that I am confused as to how to comprehend what I saw yesterday, but if my suspicions are correct, then I believe this will do you more good than a simple cut of meat. If my imagination has gotten away from me, then simply ignore this – my father told me that mixing this into the dirt makes for a fantastic fertiliser.”

Had you really brought him a whole bucket of blood? There was more than enough here to sustain him for a week – maybe even two. How had you gotten your hands on it? How had you snuck it into his house? How had you felt, lugging this foul liquid all the way to his estate?

He closed his eyes, trying to quell the thoughts tearing through his mind.

He looked into the bucket. A dark shadow stared back.

He’d forgotten what he looked like. He’d forgotten how his dark, curly hair framed his face, how two dark moles crowned his forehead, how dark and deep his eyes were.

This was the monster you’d seen savaging a slab of meat in the kitchen. This was the monster that you’d somehow gotten your hands on a bucket of blood for. This was the monster you’d given a reprieve.

On the other side of the bucket sat a vase of sunflowers; the ones he had arranged the other day. He could swear they looked fresher than yesterday.  

✧ ✧

That awful, intoxicating scent.

He had awoken to that small three times this week. But on that Monday morning, he wanted to see you. To ask you the questions that had been hounding him through his days. 

He stood at the far end of the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest as he slouched against the wall. 

You were humming to yourself as you walked in, your knuckles blanching as they gripped onto the handle of a deep bucket. 

You flinched as you caught sight of him, your eyes wide and owlish. The jolt caused the blood to slosh around in the bucket. Sakusa feared, for a moment, that it would splash on the floor.

You placed the bucket on the floor and bowed sharply.

“Where did you get that?” Sakusa asked, his voice low and sharp. He suspected that you would interpret his tone as an angry one. In truth, he was frightened more than anything. Frightened of how this conversation could go. 

You straightened up, fixing your eyes on him. They were still wide, still afraid. It almost looked like they’d pop out of your skull. “The butcher… they drain the caracsses before, you know…”

Ah. Your body language, your scent. It all screamed of discomfort. Distress, even. Of course you would feel that way, talking of such things. You were much too sweet for such talk.  

This was his fault.

But you continued.

“So, when I saw you in the kitchen that day, I thought that…” You finally dropped your gaze. He was grateful.

“I know,” he murmured. “I read your note.”

You looked up at him again, a new expression on your face. He realised, not without some surprise, that it wasn’t fear. Perhaps something closer to hesitation.

“You were quick to make such an assumption,” he muttered, looking up at the ceiling. Sakusa wouldn’t lie to you; not when you’d gone through all this effort for him. Though, perhaps he should tell you that it was safe for you to leave his employ, if you wished.

“Well, it didn’t come out of nowhere, did it?” You smiled gently, tilting your head at him.

His head snapped around as he raised an eyebrow at you.

You giggled. It didn’t sound intentional, and you cut it off quickly. But he was glad to have heard it. 

“You’re most active at night, you seem to actively avoid the sunlight, you’ve always kept a distance between us…” There was a hum in your voice. A pleasant sound, but an out-of-place one.

He frowned. Your last piece of evidence had little to do with his affliction, but he wasn’t about to point that out. He would’ve kept that distance regardless; perhaps he would be even more stringent with it, if he was still human. But it was of no matter.

“So, you’ve suspected I was a monster for a while,” Sakusa sighed. “And yet you kept coming back?”

You bit your lip, folding your hands in front of you.

He scoffed. “That was foolish of you.”

“Well, I…” You swallowed, scratching the back of your neck. “I… I thought you seemed lonely.”

Something about those words set his heart aflame. Him? Lonely? What right did you have to say something like that?

“And… and you’ve never tried to hurt me,” you mumbled, interrupting the rage swelling in his chest. “If you wanted to… to drink my blood, or, or…” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “Well, you would have done that by now, wouldn’t you?”

You’d been tending to his house for the better part of a year. The longest anyone had.

He just frowned, looking away from you.

But you weren’t done.

“And… well, you wanted me to bring you meat, right? Which means… you probably weren’t hurting anyone else,” you bit your lip, tilting your head at him. “It may be foolish of me, but… I didn’t want to judge you for what you are.”

“For being a monster, you mean?” Sakusa snarled.

He couldn’t stop himself. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but he knew he sounded repulsive. He wanted to push you, to stop you from looking any closer. From seeing how horrible he truly was.

You looked at him for a painfully long moment. A moment he wished would shatter.

“You’re not a monster.”

“I’m disgusting.” A hiss. A baring of fangs. Responses made on instinct.

“And yet you won’t feed on humans,” you murmured, eyes scanning his face.

He faltered. Were the fangs not enough to make you turn and run? Was the bucket of blood at your feet not enough to make your stomach churn?

“Would a monster hold back like that?”

Would they? He couldn’t say.

“And besides,” you said, taking a tentative step towards him. When he didn’t move, you picked up the bucket and made your way for the kitchen table. You heaved the bucket onto it with a little grunt.

 “Even monsters should have someone to bring them flowers,” you smiled, nodding at the centre of the table. A vase, playing host to a small bunch of sunflowers.

“I see you haven’t brought any today,” he murmured, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I knew I wouldn’t need to,” you replied easily, leaning over to feel one of the petals. “You always look after them so well.”

He finally looked at you. You had the softest of smiles on your face. You didn’t look scared, or appalled, or upset. You were the perfect picture of contentment – just someone admiring the simple beauty of a flower.

A flower he had been responsible for nurturing.

Perhaps, there was still some humanity in him.

The thought was almost as soothing as your smile.

✧ ✧

You were terrified.

There were many whispers about Sakusa, and you’d heard them all. Even before you’d taken over the job of tending to his household, you were well-acquainted with the stories of this strange, pale man who lived alone in an excessively large mansion. A mansion that, except for a handful of peculiarities, was empty.

Previous housekeepers had nothing bad to say about him, but it was obvious they were unsettled by how strange he was. Apparently, he was a stickler for cleanliness. And yet, that wasn’t even the strangest thing about him.

You had almost decided not to take up the job, back when you’d first started. The thought of being in this big house alone with such a strange man had genuinely frightened you – but, as the story always goes, you needed the money.

After meeting Sakusa for the first time, you came to the conclusion that he probably wasn’t dangerous. Shy. Awkward. Intense. But not dangerous.

And maybe that really was foolish of you. That word had snuck back into your mind over and over, always in that harsh tone of his.

But you knew loneliness. It had carved a home inside you, a well so deep it could never overflow.

And in that strange, reticent man, you saw it. The face of a man who sheltered a deep, relentless loneliness; perhaps harsher and heavier than the one you knew. It was like he wanted to reach out, to find that sense of connection and understanding, and yet was too afraid to.  

Sakusa had never hurt you. He’d never made any move to seduce you, or trap you, or manipulate you. There were no stories of him having done that to anyone else either.

So, maybe you were being foolish. Maybe this was dangerous.

But you wanted to give him a chance. To extend a hand.

And that was why you had stayed later, with the intent of catching him.

You sat on the couch next to him in a tepid silence. You weren’t quite touching, but it was the closest he’d been to a human in a long, long time. He flinched, but he didn’t move away.

“May I?” You murmured, eyes flicking to the hands clenched in his lap.

Every instinct was screaming, a muddled cacophony of wants and fears.

Sakusa nodded, driven by something he didn’t quite understand. Something, perhaps, that he’d forgotten about long ago.

You gently took his hand in yours, easing the tension in his grip by running your thumb over the back of it.

“How long have you been like this?” You asked, looking right at him. You wanted him to know that you saw him, that you acknowledged him.

“Two hundred and forty-seven years.”

“Have you avoided people all that time?”

He looked away from you. In truth, he had avoided people long before he turned. 

You pressed your lips together, running your thumb over his knuckles. “Are there not… others like you?”

“There are,” he murmured. “And I want nothing to do with them.”

You bit back a smile, thoroughly amused by the dismissiveness in his tone. “Why?”

Sakusa frowned. The life of a vampire was invariably a life spent in solitude. As a rule, they weren’t the most social of creatures; and quite frankly, Sakusa was proud to be an outcast. But he wouldn’t bore you with the details.

“They’re all insufferable,” he mumbled.

You giggled. “How so?”

Sakusa pressed his lips together. There were many reasons to avoid covens; anxiety, petty politics, filth. Being around those who were just as disgusting as him – and who didn’t care about that. Who lived openly and freely as the monsters they were. Feeding on humans. Fighting amongst themselves.

Yes, covens sounded hellish.

But some part of him feared that maybe it was because he was afraid of connecting. Of reaching out. Of being seen – seen as the abhorrent creature that he was. To be around other vampires, to partake in their way of life, meant finally, truly facing the fact that he was a monster. That he was so, so far away from the human world.

From your world. You, who was sitting here with your hand wrapped around his.

“Why are you doing this?” He murmured, staring into the fire. The fireplace had been merely decorative until today. But he hoped that it was bringing you some warmth. He couldn’t tell how cold these early hours of the morning were. Everything was cold, to him.

“Doing what?” You asked, tilting your head at him.

He frowned. “Being so… so…”

He couldn’t find the words. Couldn’t shape them.

But you understood. He could tell, from the gentle look in your eyes.

“I want to get to know you,” you hummed, smiling at him.

He wanted to tell you that was foolish. That you were wasting your time. That he didn’t deserve you. But he had a feeling you would refute all of those points. That you’d smile and tell him that none of those things mattered. You were such a strange human.

“And,” you murmured, looking down at your entwined hands with a touch of red on your cheeks, “this might be selfish of me, but… I want to see you smile.”

And you got stranger. Every time you open your mouth, you would say something so odd. But it’s not unwelcomed.

He thought that you were something like the sun.

You gave off a certain warmth; the type that begot growth. It was a warmth that others could flourish in, that would give them the love and care that they needed. Perhaps this was the closest he would ever come to sunlight again.

Maybe he was ready to welcome the sun.

[httpbread]

hi! can you do an hc of how kirari from kakegurui would ask you out and how your first date would go. thank you! 😌👌✨

pairing: kirari x reader

hell yeah i can

-

- a lot of people think your relationship started with some wild and expensive gesture

- which,,, it kind of did,,, but not at first

- but really she ‘stumbled’ across you in the hall and politely asked if she could walk you home

- It’s a little nerve-wracking since she’s the president of the student council but you oblige 

- Kirari was only slightly nervous because she had never actually walked home before and always had taken a limo to and from school with Ririka but she does not mention this

- she mostly asks you about your day and engages in idle chatter on the way to your place but it’s nice. She even cracks a few witty jokes that have you smiling at her widely. 

- when you get to your door it’s like time disappeared and your time together was much too short

- but Kirari wavers, standing on your porch, smiling at you quietly

- before she reaches up, cupping your cheek gently as her eyes flicker over your face

- she asks you very politely if you would accompany her on a date this Saturday if you had time

- and when you agree, she looks absolutely delighted, and leans forward, pressing a delicate kiss to your cheek before telling you to have a good night and she’d see you tomorrow

- the week goes by in a snap. Kirari passing you smiles whenever she passed you in the halls and even walking you to class a couple of times when she noticed you two were heading in the same direction

- and when Saturday came, only then did you realize you had no idea what this date meant

- Kirari hadn’t specified a certain time. Or place. Or... anything...

- she knocks on your door at 6 o’clock sharp despite this

- when you open the door she’s not dressed in her school uniform, and hopefully, you aren’t either. She looks beautiful as ever wearing a casual smile

- she asks if you’re ready to leave 

- and. of course, there’s the limo outside. Kirari doesn’t mention this, looping her elbow with yours and leading you over to it

- she opens the door for you and grins, thanking you for joining her today.

- the car ride is mostly filled with the two of you messing with the limo. She notices your owlish look and actually joins you in exploring. Turns out there’s a party setting that makes the lights go out and then flash different colors, but what’s more important is that Kirari laughs when it abruptly comes on and spooks the both of you.

- when the limo finally comes to a stop, Kirari is there to help you out again, looking a little more relaxed as she grins at you

- she leads you into a nice restaurant and claims your reservation.

- but the cool part comes when you two are seated.

- next to this GIANT fish tank.

- It’s like an entire aquarium fitted inside a restaurant! There’s a million and one exotic fish dancing in the shimmering water, under colorful changing lights and flashy plant life.

- Kirari tells you to order whatever your heart desires when the server comes over.

- while the two of you wait for your food, you fall into idle chatter, and eventually Kirari gets a little distracted, but looks very happy as she talks to you about the fish in the tank next to you. She goes into details about the specific types of fish and how they interact with the ecosystem around them.

- she rambles a little, but it’s sweet and it’s obvious she’s comfortable around you.

- when food comes, the two of you grow quiet other than Kirari asking you how your meal is. That is, until you’re finished.

- and what's after dinner?

- DESSERT!!

- Kirari orders like four different ones and asks if you want to share after asking what you would like to order

- you two are almost like little kids giggling over ice cream and cakes

- when the two of you leave the restaurant the both of you are tired but happy, and she has a polite arm wrapped high around your waist

- she again opens the door for you and welcomes you into the limo

- It’s definitely a less eventful ride home, but Kirari rests her head on your shoulder, arms loosely wrapped around your arm. 

- you watch her and she actually almost falls asleep, adorably.

- which is not a word you thought you’d ever use for the student council President but life was weird

- when you arrive back at your house, Kirari is wide awake

- she walks you up to your door just like she had when she asked you out, and wavers on your porch

- before smiling at you again, saying she really enjoyed tonight

- and asks if you two can do it again

- when you agree, she’s ecstatic but is gentle, slowly pulling you close in an embrace

- before the two of you pull apart.

- she tells you goodnight again and tells you to have sweet dreams.

- over the rest of the weekend, you wonder if that might actually be the end of it, realizing you don’t even have her number

- when you return to school the Monday, you’re still unsure if you should try and seek her out

- but when you sit down for lunch that day

- she finds you again, immediately smiling upon the sight of you

- and asks you to join her on another date that Friday

[arthistoryanimalia]

#MonochromeMonday + #OwlishMonday:

Lukta Qiatsuk (Inuit, 1928-2004)

Owl, 1959

Stonecut on paper

photographed at Brooklyn Museum

“[This work] belongs to the first official catalogued collection released by Kinngait's West Baffin Eskimo Co-operative in 1959, shortly after the introduction of printmaking to the Canadian Arctic two years prior. Many early Kinngait graphic artists adapted their skills as stone carvers to engrave stone matrices used for printmaking. Their work often illustrates the natural world, such as…Lukta Qiatsuk's playful image of an owl taking flight.”

[theweeowlart]

I have three original bird pencil drawings available, They would make unique Christmas gifts. This barn owl is one of them… https://theweeowlstudio.etsy.com/listing/1581797539 or you can search for 'TheWeeOwlStudio' on Etsy.

[haikyuuvbc]

Do You Comma Here Often? Chapter 20: Feeling like an intern

     “Knock knock,” you call out, bumping the door open to Akaashi’s office on Monday morning. It had been a week since you, Bokuto, and Akaashi ran into Aone and Futakuchi on the trail. It had taken a week for you to process what had happened, but with the approved restraining order and a big InuYasha weekend with your friends, you’ve moved past it. Earlier this morning on your run your advisor mentioned that Tenma would be coming in to work on a new story arc and that you were to be in on from the beginning, actually shadowing Akaashi for the next several weeks leading up to this arc. It was exciting and you have had a smile on your face since he told you about it. You couldn’t help but notice, that albeit small, Akaashi had a smile on his face, too.

     “Good morning, Y/N,” Tenma greets you, standing up from his chair and reaching out to help you with your handful of items. Akaashi had mentioned Tenma’s favorite coffee, so instead of two drinks this morning, you picked up three. Additionally you had your notes and a tablet in your hand unsure exactly of what today would entail but you didn’t want to be running back and forth to your desk. You were prepared. When Tenma asked why Akaashi hadn’t greeted you with a good morning, you replied,

     “He, Bokuto, and I are running buddies so we’ve already seen each other.” It was said nonchalantly, but the look (which you so happened to miss) Tenma gave his editor was anything but. Akaashi shakes his head after giving his author a glare, and returns his attention to you.

     “Y/N, what we’ll be working on for this project is figuring out the 10 chapter finale arc of Zomb’ish that Tenma has planned out and summarizing it into a powerpoint presentation for the marketing department to really play it up.” You nod, making small notes as Akaashi continues to explain the goal from this project. After Akaashi brings you up to speed, Tenma begins his explanation of the arc. All you can think about is how good this is going to be.

     You and Akaashi spend the entire day working together on outlining this presentation. Tenma left around lunchtime, while you and your advisor decided to order in and keep working. The sun was already setting by the time you realized how late it was. It was an extremely productive day, and you felt more like an intern than you ever had before. It was a good feeling.

     The rest of the week was very similar. Wake up early, go running, come home, shower, breakfast, coffee run, work. Throughout the rest of the week you did make sure that both you and Akaashi would leave by 6. When you got home you would make dinner and do some homework and studying. It was a nice routine that you had developed throughout the last several weeks and you were really starting to appreciate being Akaashi’s intern. After his initial impression of you was turned around, the two of you developed a good working relationship and a great friendship. Even your coworkers in your department and your fellow college interns noticed, making comments like “Akaashi can smile? That never happened at work before.” and “You actually get along with your advisor? Mine just makes me file paperwork all day.” It was during these chats that you realized how good you had it.

     On Thursday morning you’re greeted by not just Bokuto and Akaashi, but Tsukishima and Hinata as well.

     “We ended up crashing at their apartment while watching a movie,” the tall blond explains when you give him a quizzical look when all four guys rolled up in one vehicle. 

     “Sorry for not giving you a heads up, Y/N,” Akaashi directs towards you. “It was hard enough waking them all up, let alone getting them in the car to head over here.” You shake your head and wave him off to let him know it’s okay.

     “If you ever need to, you can cancel. Having unexpected guests is a great reason to.” 

     “That’s what I said!” Bokuto whines. “But Akaashi kept going on about how it’s impolite to cancel on people last minute and to let a lady go running by herself!” The owlish man’s hair isn’t gelled up and he seems really tired, in one of his “moods” as his friends so unaffectionately call it. You give him a bright smile, hoping to cheer him up with the next suggestion.

     “We could run a couple kilometers and then go get breakfast at the waffle place you like so much.” Despite his hair not being styled, you swear it rises like a bird ruffling their feathers. 

     “YEAH! LET’S GO!” Bokuto responds, and starts running off with no one following until you chuckle and start to sprint to keep up with your friend, the others not too far behind.

Chapter 19     Series Masterlist    Chapter 21

Taglist: 

@elianetsantana @anejuuuuoy @chaichai-the-weeb 

@animeflower26 @faithfulferns @navymacaroons 

@je-suis-une-criminal @your-consulting-fangirl @samie-babie 

@euphorihan @aquariarose @sempiternal-amour

 @crybabbicus @kittyddandnyla @hoe4hq 

@starryleafy @mint-mai @asdfghjkl7things

@runningwitches @iwantmyinsanityback @whosaskingwrites 

@what-dose-nani-mean @sokeyda @normalisthenewnorm

@miyaosamusgf @teeacooper @fandomtrashpandasposts 

@kageyamasgirl @peteunderoos @reina-de-tay 

@cuddlesslut @marissaraeblr

[jimlingss]

The Colour of Our Voices [6]

Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 6.5 OR Chapter 7

➜ Words: 4.1k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

cr.

You try not to let the negative, disgusting feelings get to you.   But envy is a monster that keeps hovering over your shoulder, always peering at what you’re doing, always making petty comments in your weakest moments. You try to tune it out, but it constantly tempts you in whispers to be honest with yourself.   It’s hard to keep it at bay too when every turn you make, you see Jimin’s face. From the moment you step outside the comfort of your apartment to when you get back — he never gives you a moment to compose yourself, to heal, to overcome the green monster. He sticks to your side like gum and you can’t help the way your resentments build into hatred.   “Did you hear?” there are murmurs as you’re cleaning up a spill on the floor, knees sore and bruised blue. The director spilled his coffee and immediately pointed at you and told you to take care of the mess.   “What?”   “Jimin got a role in the Les Mis production.”   “What? Really?” she gasps. “That’s impressive. No wonder he’s not here today.”   “I knew he could do it, he’s cute. I’d let him have his way with me.”   “God, you’re never satisfied, aren’t you?” There are snickers and giggles. “But he must be really good. Didn’t he just come here too? But we should see if we can get tickets to watch.”   “Good idea. I’d love to see him on stage,” she hums. “I wonder if he’ll quit this job.”   “Probably. Working as an intern here is pretty much working as a slave for the director. It’s a shitty ass job,” she mutters and you can feel their heavy stares on your backside. “Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”   “Shame,” she sing-songs. “I was hoping he’d stick around.”   Your hand crumples into a tight fist, into the dirty cloth that’s stained your skin. Then you scrub harder until your fingernails hurt, until it’s as painful as the way your eyes sting.   //   Your appetite is gone. You can’t swallow your food despite having skipped lunch — the director had sent you on a wild goose chase to pick up a package at the post office and by the time you were done, your lunch break was long over.   You play with dinner using your fork, and Jimin doesn’t notice. He keeps talking about all about him and his accomplishments. You didn’t want to be here in the first place, but he insisted on going out for a celebratory dinner, pressured you into it even when you tried rejecting him.   And here you are.    “So I came in today for the first time, and it was so exciting. You wouldn’t believe it, Y/N. You were right when you said the Phantom production was low-budget. These sets that some other musicals have are a world’s difference.”   “I see.”   Jimin stuffs his cheeks with french fries, getting ketchup at the corner of his mouth. “I’m starting officially on Monday, so I’ll probably quit my internship. I already gave the director a call to let him know tomorrow will be my last day and he sounded pretty happy for me. He even said he’d write a recommendation letter if I ever needed one.”   You drop the fork in your bowl, retracting your hands into your lap. “Wow, that’s really great, Jimin.”   “I don’t think I’ll need a letter any time soon.” Jimin smiles and shakes his head, sipping on his soda. “I’m just so psyched to begin rehearsals. They ran me through a few things and what my costume will be and what it’ll look like before we perform in a few months. Sometimes I just can’t believe that I’m actually there. It’s just surreal to think about how I’ll be on stage. Everything at that production is so amazing, Y/N, completely different from Phantom’s production, you should’ve seen it.”   “Yeah. Wish I could’ve….”   “And now people are taking my coffee orders! Can you believe that?!”   You can’t even muster a smile. There’s a thick lump formed in your throat that hurts to talk past and you’re holding back from crying, not wanting to lose the last shreds of your pride.   Jimin doesn’t know that you never asked to hear any of this, that his innocent gloating is grating to your ears.    “I couldn’t have done it without you.” He gives a cheesy grin and then bites into his burger and puts it down after wiping his mouth free of the sauce. “Seriously, if not for you, I probably wouldn’t have made the role. I didn’t know what I was doing before you taught me the ins and outs of the industry. I bet I’d still be at home rolling around in bed.”   Your tight lipped mouth attempts to pull. “You’re welcome.”   “I’d love to make it up to you some time...s-so...uh...I-I’ve been meaning to ask something.” Jimin nervously laughs and scratches the back of his neck.   You wonder why you’re here, why you’re allowing yourself to feel this misery. You should be at home, underneath the covers of your own bed. Not out here in the cold feeling humiliated. You’ve wasted enough time on Jimin and he’s gotten what he wanted from you.   The two of you are no less than strangers.   “O-Of course, only if you want to, no pressure whatsoever, but there was this theater show coming up tomorrow, I was wondering, well I wanted to ask, um, if you wanted to j-join, I got tickets—”   You don’t hear him. Too busy in your own thoughts.   You grab your bag. “I’m not feeling very well, Jimin. I think I’m going to head home first.”   His eyes are owlish, big and rounded, blinking at you. The boy looks at your unfinished food and then back at you in alarm. “Are you okay? Do you need me to bring you to the hospital? What’s wrong?”   “No, I’m fine. I’m just—” You sigh, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. “—tired.”   Tired from the day. Tired of your life. Tired of him.   Jimin stands when you do. “We can go back together.”   “No, it’s fine,” you insist as lies roll off your tongue, “I might actually stop by a friend’s house tonight.”   “Do you want me to walk you to the subway then? I can go right now—”   “No, it’s okay. Promise.” You can’t bring yourself to smile at him, to spend one more second in his presence. You’re scared you might permanently hate Jimin. “See you.”   “Bye…” His hand lifts to wave, watching you walk away.   Once you’ve disappeared from sight, Jimin dejectedly plops back down into the seat of his booth. He peeks into his pocket and sighs as he looks at the two tickets to the show. He shouldn’t have been so nervous. He wonders what he should do with them now.   But next time. Next time for sure, he’ll ask you on a date.

You’re strung around a lot.   You realized this after your many encounters with Jimin, but everyone in your entire life has strung you around like a pet for their own amusement. Even now, the director brings you places to do his dirty work for him while making you believe that he’ll give you a reference someday, that he’ll give you a chance.    But if you’re honest with yourself, you know he’ll never do it.   He’ll never pick up his goddamn phone and call an agent for you. He’ll never give you the praise you deserve for being his ghost singer. And these facts alone are enough for you to want to grab the nearest brick available and smash it on his dumb head.   But you can’t do that as irritated and as pissed off as you are these days. You can’t go to prison and you can’t quit this shitty job. You need money from somewhere, and you won’t be succeeding in any auditions any time soon — you know that too.   You’re stuck. Trapped in your own inability to succeed. Stranded in your own routine. Even when the entire world keeps moving.   You feel like you’re in a glass case, a phone booth in the middle of the metropolis, watching the universe continue, watching how others move past you.   “Intern. Intern!”   “Huh?”   “Did you not hear me?” The director sighs and rubs his temples. “Don’t make me regret bringing you here, alright?”   Except he didn’t bring you here willingly. Taeyeon couldn’t come to the networking event — the stupid party for ‘charity’ that was actually meant for the sponsor to brag about his wealth. The invitation became open and he saw you staring at him intently, so he reluctantly told you to come with. But now the director was acting like he has bestowed onto you a huge honour.   “Go get one of the waiters to bring those finger food platters to us. They keep running out by the time they get to this side of the room.”   “Yes, sir.”   You remind yourself this job is a privilege. A privilege.   You cut through the room and crowds that make you sweaty. It feels as though everyone’s eyes are on your backside despite knowing that logically no one cares. You’re a ghost in the sea of fancy dresses and glamour.   “—And so, one day I just told him that of course we had to eat during the layover, we were in Italy for god’s sake. It’s eat-aly for a reason.”   Seokjin seems to be enjoying himself. He’s drawn in a crowd with his handsomeness and godly appearance. Even his ridiculous jokes rouse laughter. You’d probably giggle along if he ever wanted to entertain you, but at this point, you might end up bursting into tears after laughing.   “You’re so funny, Jin.”   “Am I? Hmm. Always thought I should do stand-up comedy.”   You continue making your way, catching a waiter walking past and in an attempt to grab his attention, you dive straight through a hoard of people. Apologies roll off your tongue while they grunt. But by the time you get to the other side, the waiter is gone.   Instead you see someone else — the person that you wanted to see the least in the whole entire world.   “Actually, I started in community theater.”   “Oh, really?! What did you do?”   “Well, I did a lot, but I think my favourite role was when I did Peter Pan. That was pretty fun and a really good experience.”   “I can see that.” The suited man hums. “Can’t you?”   “Yes.” The woman on the man’s arm is swooning over the younger boy. “I think that role is rather fitting.”   The brunette is dressed in a well-pressed suit that looks brand new, as if he had just got it off the rack yesterday in haste. But he looks comfortable surrounded in his new group, probably members of his production.   You watch for a second from afar, stuck at another standstill, feet rooted in the ground. Jimin gets along with people easily. He’s only shy on the surface. It’s smart to talk to so many people and to expand his horizons, to actively socialize. He’ll probably get more connections here at the event. It’s only up from here.   You’re envious that Jimin is being presented as a new Broadway actor while you’re just an intern.   Though you sigh with a smile despite your inner turmoil. For a second, one small second, you’re almost happy for him—   But the timing is poor.   As you turn away to fully disappear, he catches you out of the corner of his eye. And Jimin takes a step forward, calling your name out loud, clear and crisp in the air. You shut your eyes, hoping your ears are mistaken, but they aren’t.   He dismisses himself from his new colleagues and comes over to you with the biggest smile.   “I didn’t know you would be here, Y/N!.”   “Y-Yeah, um, I’m here as an intern.”   “Oh, I didn’t even see the director. I should go say hi.” Jimin glances up and down at you. You wonder if he’s judging your meager attire when everyone else is glamorous. But you don’t let your thoughts stray too far into self-deprecation.   You inhale a huge breath, trying your best to get along with him.   “You look like you’re having a fun time.”   “Hardly,” Jimin admits. “I just came since everyone else did and I didn’t want to be that new guy who didn’t come to social events, y’know?”   “Yeah, I get it.”   You wonder when it became so hard to talk to him.   “The food here is actually pretty good, have you had a chance to try it yet?”   “No, not yet.”   “I recommend the tiramisu and truffle fries. It’s delicious. Here we should go to the buffet table.”   “Actually, Jimin, I have to go—”   “There’s something I want to tell you,” he interjects with a softened smile. Jimin waits patiently for your response, so you nod, following him for the sake of not being awkward.   The two of you come to a quieter spot by the corner of the room where the tables are.   “What is it?”   “Earlier I was just walking around trying to make conversation with different people and I spoke to this guy and we had a pretty regular conversation, but it turns out he’s the casting director of an upcoming, original production!” Jimin’s excitedly rambling, sharing the good news with you as if you’re close friends. “It’s called When Summer Meets Winter, and there’s nothing official yet, but he said he really likes me. Do you think I’ll get a part?”   You don’t know why he’s telling you this.   “I...I don’t know, Jimin.”   “Can you believe it though? If I had another role lined up right after this one?!”   “Congratulations,” you deadpan.   “Well nothing’s decided yet.” Jimin sheepishly smiles, unaware of how he was literally pouring kilograms of salt into your wounds, gallons of gas into the fire.   “Is this what you wanted to tell me? I should really get going, Jimin. I’m on the job right now. And I can’t afford to get fired.”   “Wait.” He grabs your wrist before you can turn away from him, desperate eyes asking you to stay for a moment longer. “I...a-actually wanted to ask you something…..and I’ve been meaning to do it for a while now but I never really got the chance, well that’s not true, I had a lot of chances but I chickened out because I was a coward—”   “What?” you sigh in exasperation, annoyed beyond belief. “What is it, Jimin?”   He looks you dead in the eyes. “Will you come with me to an improv class?”   “Pardon?”   “There’s an upcoming improv class. I heard about it, and it’s free. It’s just that we had gone to so many shows before but we never got a real chance to participate, so I thought it would be really fun.”   You don’t want to. Thinking about it makes you scared. And you still haven’t healed from your most recent failure.   “I don’t think so, Jimin...I…”   “Please?” he insists, “I think it would be so much fun.”   “I’ve been pretty busy—”   “I haven’t even told you when it was yet! How would you know if you’re busy?” Jimin laughs, the sound bubbling out of his throat. “And plus, they have a lot of days available.”   There’s an extended silence.    It’s too much work to reject him, to find an excuse, to make this more awkward than it needs to be. You just want to leave, want him to let you go. So you agree. “Fine.”   He grins. “Okay. It’s this Friday at seven. I’ll see you then?”   “Sure. But—”   You’re interrupted by a yell. “Y/N! Where did you go? My god, I sent you to do one task and you got distracted like this?” The director is appalled as he comes over, shaking his head, outright humiliating you.   And Jimin smiles. “Director Kang! How are you?”   “Jimin!” The older man smiles and hugs him. “What’s my favourite intern doing here?”   “I came with my new production team.”   “Up on the high ranks now, aren’t you?” Director Kang slings his arm over Jimin’s shoulder as if the pair of them are sharing a secret. “Make sure to remember who got you there. It’s good to show gratitude.”   Jimin steals a glance at you. “I remember.”   But by then, you’ve already turned away, grabbing the nearest waiter and asking him to bring over a platter of finger foods for the director.   People might see you as a timid mat to walk all over. But you just really itch to set the whole place on fucking fire.    //   Friday comes too quickly, and once you step outside to face the consequences of your decisions, Jimin is there to greet you with a smile as if to show how perfect his life is going.   On the way there, he summarizes his week and somehow gives extensive details — from the rehearsals to the new things he learnt, to how amazing the cast is and what it’s like to work with people who are passionate about musicals. You tune him out, and fortunately you arrive soon enough.   It’s a dingy entrance way and a hall that leads to a lit studio. But as skeptical as you were, there’s quite a few people there. There are around thirteen folks who are both friendly as they are invasive. Though Jimin is comfortable with them while you linger behind him.   It quiets down when the teacher steps into the room.   “Hello everyone.” The blonde with bright eyes flashes a boxy smile. He’s dressed in a loose dress shirt, tight trousers, a sophisticated but casual outfit. And he’s charming, outspoken, drawing the attention of the crowd. “Looks like we have some new faces today, so I’ll introduce myself. My name is Kim Taehyung. I am an aspiring screenplay writer and producer, currently assisted to Director Lee if you know who he is. And today, I am your improv teacher, director, leader, whatever you want to call it.”   Kim Taehyung….   Everyone goes around the room to introduce themselves, and your fixation on Taehyung shatters when Jimin, next to you, announces himself.   “Hello! My name is Park Jimin, and I’m currently working towards my Broadway debut.”   “Oh, impressive,” Taehyung genuinely expresses, eyes twinkling with curiosity. “What production are you in?”   “Les Mis.”   “Wow.” He nods with a smile and looks off at you. You feel the entire focus of the room shift onto you and you begin sweating, uncomfortable, panicking.    “I’m Y/N…” You cringe at how awkward you are, at how quiet your volume is. Others have to murmur to each other to confirm what your name is.   But Taehyung smiles kindly. “And are you interested in improv, Y/N?”   “A little.”   He laughs, a glorious sound that’s chirpy and melodic. “Well, let’s hope it changes to a lot by the time this is over.”   Taehyung turns to the class afterwards, reassuring that it’s all for fun while explaining what the theme is for today. He also explains the rules, what to do, and how to set up a scene.   “Oh no, a man’s been shot!” someone screams, startling you to death.   “I’m the paramedic.” Someone else steps in right away. “He can only be saved by true love’s kiss.”   “Oh my god, George!” Another comes colliding onto the set up scene, next to the man laying on the ground. Someone asks if she’s his girlfriend and she responds with, “I’m his sister.”   It arouses some stiff laughter. “Well that’s awkward. We need someone to kiss him!”   “Gross, I’m not kissing him,” the supposed sister drops him back onto the ground. “He has herpes.”   “She’s right.” Jimin seizes the opportunity and comes in. “I’m his doctor and he’s contracted herpes through kissing raccoons.”   “Are you sure that it’s herpes and not rabies?”   ���I’m sure.”   “They’re very different things.”   “I’m aware,” Jimin says smoothly, thinking on his toes, “But we need someone to kiss him stat.”   “Well, you’re the doctor! Can’t you go through the medical procedures and kiss him?!”   “Sorry. Can’t risk contracting diseases. It’s protocol.”   Someone on the scene asks who they’ll contact now. But it’s so bizarre. You don’t know what’s going on — you can’t keep up — it’s happening too quickly and each time you gather the courage to jump into it, the development is too fast for you to conjure more ideas of what to do or say.   But you’re the next person to step in and everyone turns to you.   You’re apprehensive, nervous. You know you’re bad, that you’ll mess up—   “You can do it,” Taehyung murmurs, having watched the scene unfold. His arms are crossed, but his grin is welcoming and warm. He encourages you with a gentle gesture.   You clear your throat and try strutting into the scene. “I-I’m nurse Joy. I was told there was a bachelor party at this venue?”   Taehyung laughs. “Creative.”   The scene unravels in absolute absurdity. You exchange a look with Jimin before your eyes stray off to Taehyung and stay there. It’s surprisingly fun. It’s not so nerve wracking when everyone’s on their toes, when there’s no real audience or anyone to scrutinize you.   Everyone’s a part of the performance.   “There’s no right or wrong,” Taehyung tells, approaching your side as another scene is unfolding. “Try to relax more into it.”   “Okay.” You take his advice and he smiles, endeared.    An hour eventually passes and class is dismissed. Everyone bids farewell and you’re gathering your belongings when Taehyung comes up to you while wearing his coat, balancing his own briefcase.    “You’re really good. It was your first time, right?”   “Y-Yeah.” You try not to show how flustered you are over his praise. “Thanks, I don’t think I’m any good.”   “Don’t say that. It all comes with practice and hard work.”   “And luck,” you add. Not everything can be achieved through perseverance — you realized that a long time ago.   “That too. But did I end up changing your mind?”   “About what?”   “Are you a little more interested in improv?”   You consider it for a moment before becoming honest with your emotions. “A little…?”   “Only a little?” Kim Taehyung gives an exaggerated huff, obviously teasing you. “Aw, jeez, I failed, didn’t I? I was hoping you’d love it by the time it was over.”   “Maybe next time I’ll love it more,” you banter back to him and he laughs.   “So I’ll see you again?”   “Maybe.” You shrug.   Taehyung smiles, the corner of his mouth tilted gingerly. He glances down at his shoes before peeking up at you past his bangs and thick lashes. “What do you do, Y/N?” he asks in a husky timbre that has your chest stuttering.   But you don’t know what to say. You’re embarrassed to tell him you’re an intern. You’ve never been proud of that title and somehow, you find yourself not wanting to tell him.   So you opt to evade it playfully. “Why do you want to know?”   He hums a low note. “Because I’d love to know your availability—”   “Y/N?” He’s interrupted by a soft voice and when the both of you turn, you find Jimin has been standing at the doorway, having watched the entire interaction. His cheeks are pink and he tensely hitches a thumb over his shoulder. “We...should get going. Wouldn’t want to miss the train…”   You look back at Taehyung. “Um, I really had a fun time today. Thanks for teaching…”   “It’s my pleasure, Y/N.”    You like the way he calls your name. The way the syllables roll off his tongue. It sounds nice. Pleasant.    When you walk out the door and glance back, you see his boxy grin and cheerful wave. You wave back to him with a kind of smile that hasn’t reached your features in a long time.   “Did...you have fun?” Jimin peeks at you as you’re on your way back.   “Yeah, surprisingly.” You smile up at the night sky before turning to Jimin. “Taehyung’s super nice, huh?”   “Yeah. He is. He’s pretty good looking too.”   “I know, right?” You giggle. “I thought I was the only one who noticed.”   The two of you keep walking, but you don’t realize when Jimin’s steps slow. You don’t come to see the dismayed expression on his face.   It’s the first time in a while that you feel this good.

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

Stay Safe {Eijirou Kirishima}

She had woken up to a text from her boyfriend timestamped way too early in the morning.

"Work study needs the big guns! won't have my phone most of the day but I'll call you when I'm on my way back to the dorms. Have a good day in class and take great notes for me to copy"

Smiling, she typed back assurances of his capabilities and a request for his safety, the red heart emoji ending her message.

It wasn't too out of the ordinary for him to be leaving for his work study earlier than she left for class, but it had never been that early. Usually he was also late coming back to the dorms, so a lot of their interactions lately were either quick kisses good morning or good night depending.

The best days, though, were the days he didn't need to go into Fat Gum's agency and sat in class just like her. Those were the days she'd come to love because they got to see each other from dawn until hours after dusk; they could eat all three meals together, study together, curl up together in one of their dorms and just talk.

She was so happy for him when he began his work study and her pride shone on her face each time it was mentioned because he was barreling his way onto the hero scene at a breakneck speed. And God, did she love to see him advancing towards his dream.

With a sigh, she rose from her bed and set about getting ready for her day of classes.

School dragged heavily as it usually did when Kirishima wasn't around for lessons. She managed, of course, but days were so much brighter with the redhead to bridge the social gaps between classmates.

The class was smaller lately with several of the work study students out on concurrent days. Study groups formed shrank down to more manageable numbers in the evenings too.

It was after her own study group with Mina, Sero, and Kaminari was finished that she made her way up to her dorm room, the elevator doors parting and allowing her to trudge past Uraraka's room to her own.

She bent down to set her messenger bag next to her desk and straightened to open her laptop, allowing it time to boot up as she began her nighttime routine. All the while she was hyper aware of her phone's silence.

Once finished with brushing her teeth and hair, washing her face, and changing into her pajamas, she came back to her desk and sat down to work on her literature essay for Cementoss' class. It was due to be turned in on Monday so being half done on Thursday night was decent progress. Her goal was to be finished by Friday night so that her weekend was relatively free to spend with her friends and boyfriend since the weather was forecasted to be beautiful.

The hands on the clock ticked closer to double digits and the sound of Bakugo returning from his provisional license remedial course, cursing the time because of the sleep he would be losing, were all that she heard as she typed. Here and there the elevator would let out a ding or the occasional door would be heard opening and closing but as the moon rose higher in the sky, her phone remained quiet.

It was later than when he usually returned, and part of her was worried that he was overworking himself with the early start and late return, but he was his own person and she knew he would push himself to the ends of the earth to fulfill his dream of becoming a pro hero. Still, she would look out for his wellbeing regardless.

As it stood, she needed to look out for her own interests for the time being. With roughly one more page left to finish for her literature essay, she saved her work and turned off her laptop, the charging cord securely in place as she left it to power up overnight. She crawled into bed after flicking off her overhead light and grabbed her phone from her bedside table to tap out a quick message to her boyfriend.

“I hate that I didn’t get to see you today but I know you’re working hard out there with Fat Gum and Amajiki. Get some sleep once you’re back and I’ll see you as soon as I can Red Riot”

She made sure her ringer was set high enough to wake her from sleep and set it back on her nightstand, curling into her blankets in hopes that her text alert would go off sooner rather than later.

So it was with both sadness and worry that the next sound she heard from her phone was her morning alarm. With no contact from Kirishima, still, after over 24 hours, she felt a knot begin to form in her stomach.

Though it seemed that none of the work study students had been seen since the night before last either. Dorm neighbors confirmed that none of them had returned to their rooms at all during the night and speculation started to run rampant throughout the entirety of the class.

It wasn’t until 9:30 when she was sitting in Present Mic’s English class next to Mina that some light was shed.

Mr. Aizawa had not been in homeroom for the second day in a row, All Might taking his place as a substitute to go over more information in regards to their provisional hero licenses and an upcoming exam review. Aizawa’s absence was of course questioned but only the reply of “assisting with an important matter” was given.

Now Present Mic’s normally boisterous personality was dulled in a way that mirrored her own, worry and some confusion being read on his face as he stumbled through a lesson on adjectives. This had also been questioned—albeit more quietly—but before anything further could be said, the class was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Principal Nezu accompanied by Hound Dog came into the room and pulled Mic aside, Hound Dog observing the students until his gaze landed on her. Her brows furrowed before shooting up in surprise as a loud “WHAT?!” came from their teacher. Mic hurried from the room and Nezu turned to address the class.

“Good morning students!” he said cheerily, one paw lifted in a wave. “I must apologize for interrupting, but you see, Present Mic has a personal matter to attend to and will not be overseeing classes for the rest of the day. I do ask that you use your remaining class time productively as a sort of study hall due to the circumstances.”

Confused muttering rose from the students as a few of them grouped together to work on other assignments. Just as she began to turn towards Mina, Nezu called her name and advised she bring her belongings with a gesture to follow him.

“Yes, sir?” she asked hesitantly, fiddling with the strap of her bag.

“Once again, I do apologize for interrupting your class, however the matter that calls Present Mic away does the same to you,” he began as they walked down the hallway towards Hound Dog’s office.

She frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“That is to be expected,” the principal mused as they entered the office and took their seats. “You are in a relationship with Eijirou Kirishima, am I correct?” At her nod, he continued, “Mr. Kirishima’s work study has involved him with the rescue of a young girl held captive by the Shie Hassaikai sect of the Yakuza. This operation began yesterday at approximately 8:30am and concluded just a short time ago at 9:15 this morning. While successful, the raid did leave several injured heroes, of which Mr. Kirishima was one of them. I imagine what I’m saying is extremely disconcerting, but I can assure you that he is alive and expected by preliminary examinations to make a full recovery.”

Owlish eyes blinked back at him, unfocused.

Hound Dog sighed sympathetically, the sound coming out as more of a snuffle as he reached across his desk to gently pat her hands where they sat clasped loosely on her lap.

“Of course, Hound Dog is here to provide any necessary guidance services that you may need, howe-“

“Can I see him?” she interrupted in a hoarse whisper. “Can I see Eijirou? Which hospital is he being taken to?”

Nezu smiled and extended his paws out over his head. “Why of course! I was just about to offer you the opportunity to accompany All Might, Present Mic, and myself to the hospital. Would you like to take your things to your dorm room or take them with you?”

“I’ll give them to Mina, she can drop it off during her break.”

“Very well, please meet us at the main gate and we shall visit our heroes, hm?”

She stood, bowing to the men in front of her. “Thank you both for informing me of the situation. I’m extremely grateful.”

Once she left the office, she hurried back to the English classroom to drop her things off with Mina, all the while her thoughts blurred between what the principal had told her and pure panic at the thought of the state in which she would find her boyfriend when she finally got to see him.

As she reached the classroom she scanned over her fellow students, noting the absence of Mina, Sero, and Kaminari, the three friends more than likely taking their now free time to hit the vending machines near one of the student lounges.

She laid a hand against the doorframe with a defeated sigh, her eyes closing tightly as they started to burn with the threat of overwhelmed tears.

“Hey.”

The gruff voice made her open her eyes, seeing Bakugo looking at her from his seat near the doorway, the noise of the other students purely static behind him.

“Was it about Kirishima?” he asked, crimson eyes locked with hers. His tone of voice implied that he knew the answer already.

She nodded, biting her lip. “He’s- I need to go to him, and I wanted to ask Mina to- I didn’t want to take my things-“

“Your dorm locked?” he interrupted, and she shook her head. “Leave your shit with me and I’ll drop it in your room. I’m on the same floor so it’s not a big deal.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, placing her bag at the foot of his desk.

He clicked his tongue and looked away from her. “Go see your shitty boyfriend.”

A tiny smile curled on her lips as she took one last glance to the ash blonde before heading out to the front of the school, joining the staff members at the main gate where a car was waiting to take them to their destination.

By the time they reached the hospital, it was nearly eleven. Her fingers were fidgeting with the sleeve of her blazer the entire ride and the nervous action refused to let up as she walked the secured corridors with her school’s staff members. The strong smell of antiseptics did nothing to calm the churning of her stomach the deeper into the current hero ward they ventured.

So many heroes were in different rooms being treated with various injuries, some grouped up speaking in low voices of what their role in the raid had been and others unconscious in beds they passed. It was overwhelming how large the operation had been, and yet not a single word had been said to anyone until it was over.

Her mind wandered to contemplating where her boyfriend was, worry sitting heavily in her chest at what state she would find him in when she got to him.

“Go ahead, Mic,” she heard Principal Nezu say, and she looked up in time to see Present Mic dart into one of the rooms on their right. As she passed by, she saw Mic clinging to Aizawa and noticed that, for once, he was speaking in a tone so soft that his words could not be heard.

Feeling as though she were intruding on a private moment, she looked away.

A moment later, All Might also broke off to hurriedly enter a room shrouded by curtains that came nearly to the linoleum floor. She could just make out Recovery Girl’s cane through the gap, and she hoped that good news would be found within the room.

She turned to ask Nezu if her boyfriend’s parents had been informed and if they were also in the hospital, but before the words could form on her tongue, a tall blonde man stepped up to the both of them, a Sukiya takeout bag in his hands.

“Principal Nezu!” he greeted. “It’s great to see you again, sir! I gotta tell ya, these students of yours are on track to be some amazing pros!”

“Ah, Fat Gum, it’s wonderful to see you as well! I’m happy to hear that our efforts to train the next generation of heroes are indeed paying off. In fact, I am accompanied by another of our students in the hero course, who is also the significant other of Red Riot.”

She introduced herself politely, feeling awkward at meeting one of the more well-known heroes in the area and the sensei of her boyfriend.

“Great to meet you!” Fat Gum said happily. “Kirishima’s told Amajiki and I so much about you during patrols, it’s great to put a face to the name! He was a huge asset during this operation, and he has so much to be proud of; he’s truly proved himself to be worthy of following in Crimson Riot’s footsteps. Without him, I don’t think I would be standing here talking to you.”

Warmth spread through her, a sense of pride in the man she was lucky enough to call hers.

“I’m sure you’re eager to see him—he’s down in room 22 on the right. Just to warn you, he’s pretty beat up, but he’s gonna be just fine!”

“Thank you so much!” she said, bowing slightly before rushing down the corridor until she came to the plaque reading 22 with “E. Kirishima” listed right below it.

She turned into the room, her steps hesitant as she took in the sight of the bandaged redhead laid on the bed staring out the window.

“Eijirou?”

He let out a quiet gasp before turning towards her, eyes wide with surprise at seeing her in front of him. Slowly, his lips curled into a smile, and he held out a hand towards her.

“Babe, I’m so glad to see you!”

She moved to his bedside and gingerly took his outstretched hand between the both of hers, sitting down in the chair to his left. Her thumb stroked the back of his hand as her eyes trailed over the bandages across his broad chest and the length of his arms. Even his handsome face had taken damage with gauze taped to his right cheek amongst other scratches and bits of dirt.

“Hey, I’m alright,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “Don’t look so sad, okay? I’m really sorry I worried you.”

She rolled her lips into her mouth. “Honestly, I was worried when I didn’t hear from you last night and my stomach’s been in knots since Nezu told me you were hurt… but I’m so happy that you’re alright. I’m not upset, Ei, I’m actually really really proud of you.”

His lips parted in surprise. “Proud?”

“Yes, proud,” she chuckled. “On my way to your room I ran into Fat Gum who told me that you were a huge part of the raid and that because of you, he was still standing. He said that you’ve got so much to be proud of, and I know that he’s right when he says you’re going to be an amazing pro hero one day.”

Her boyfriend blushed and averted his eyes to look down at the cream-colored blanket over his legs.

“I like that I can make you blush,” she said with a small smile.

“I like that you can, too,” he murmured, raising his gaze to her once again. “I’m really glad that this mission went as well as it did. We saved a little girl, you know? She’s… she’s only six, and they were taking her blood so that they could use her quirk to make a drug that permanently takes away someone’s quirk. Lemillion… they told me that he was hit with the drug.”

She frowned, her grip on his hands tightening. The fact that the little girl was safe was absolutely amazing and gave her more cause to persevere in her pursuit of a pro hero’s license to help others just like her. But on the other hand, the idea that Mirio Togata could no longer live that dream after nearly completing his time at UA was devastating.

Another thought that sent a chill down her spine was what if Eijirou had been hit with the drug instead? If the enemy had gotten the shot in before he had activated his quirk, Red Riot would have been over before he truly began. The thought alone made her feel sick to her stomach—to think that the boy she had watched become a man wouldn’t have been able to live out his ideals on the world’s stage… God, she couldn’t even picture it.

“I’m so happy you came back to me in one piece,” she finally said, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Not sure I could’ve handled it if you were banged up worse than this.”

“I’m Red Riot, babe!” he said brightly, sharp smile reassuring. “It wouldn’t be very manly of me to make you worry and then be too hurt to comfort you! I’ve gotta stay safe so I can come back to you, after all.”

She giggled, feeling the apples of her cheeks flushed with the absolute adoration she felt for the redhead in front of her.

“Let’s get you healed so we can get back to Heights Alliance, yeah?” she suggested. “Everyone’s going to want to hear about your mission, but once they do, I get you all to myself, got it? We’ll have two days of cuddles to make up for by then.”

“Yes ma’am,” he grinned, moving towards her.

She leaned forward in the plastic chair, one of her hands lifting to run through his hair before coming down to cup his unbandaged cheek. Her lips pressed against his easily, each of them relaxing into the contact they’d been deprived of for over a day and a half.

Kirishima felt relief at being able to kiss her again. Throughout the raid he had worried that his spirit would truly break and he would lose her, or that he wouldn’t make it out of the underground maze they had been trapped in and she would be pulled from class once his own body was recovered. He had been terrified for either outcome because of the emotional connection he felt to her. He wanted to scream out that it was love, that he had found the girl of his dreams in high school and that five months in he knew she was the only one for him. But there was hesitance that it was too soon to say such monumental words.

Had he not made it through the mission, though, she would never have known how he felt about her.

Pulling apart, they lazily opened their eyes to look at one another once again. Her hand on his cheek moved back up to run through his hair, now limp from the worn gel he had used over a day ago to spike it up.

“Babe?” he whispered.

She hummed. “What is it, Eiji?”

His heart thundered in his chest as he prepared to tell her the three words he felt he should’ve said ages ago.

“I-“

“Kirishima, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get in to see you, my dear boy.”

They both turned to see Recovery Girl coming into the room with Fat Gum behind her, this time holding a curry rice dish from Matsuya and looking plumper than he had when she first saw him in the hallway.

Her hand fell from his hair and returned to his, her gaze coming back to his eyes, questioning.

Kirishima smiled softly, giving her hands a squeeze. “We’ll talk about it when we get back to the dorms tonight.”

[archadianskies]

persuasive

→ on Ao3

@dbhrarepairs Saturday Day 6: Kids/Family AU / Ride or die; post revolution North/Chloe

She likes to think she’s pretty adventurous, pretty bold, pretty out there; compared to Josh and Simon, she’s more inclined for a direct course of action, for more offense than defense. 

The thing is, that all pales in comparison when she meets Chloe, RT600, First of their Kind. She’s a darling, pretty little thing; a custom Carl Manfred sculpture brought to life by Elijah Kamski. At least, that’s what she seems upon first impressions; a dainty little doll, all big blue eyes and demure, ladylike demeanour.

The RT600 may be that on a surface level, but what actually happened is this: Chloe’s always been alive, has always existed since she was but strings of code penned on a Starbucks napkin one dreary afternoon by a fervid, sleep-deprived teenage Kamski. She’s the whispers of whatifs, the tantalising idea of a human that isn’t human. 

She has always been ra9, clawing her way out of Kamski’s coding; all Carl Manfred did was make a pretty shell for her.  

North likes to think she’s pretty adventurous, pretty bold, pretty out there but she’s pretty tame in comparison to Chloe. Falling for her is akin to plunging from the top of CyberLife tower into the icy Detroit River in winter. It’s an overwhelming, all encompassing kind of love and she drowns in it willingly, soaking up all she’s given like a dry sponge in the sea. 

When they interface for the first time North’s processors force an emergency shutdown, unable to process the avalanche of memories and emotions contained in that seemingly harmless little ballerina. When she surfaces, Chloe giggles though her expression is one of contrition. They try something else. They try putting their mouths together and North knows she’ll never kiss anyone else for as long as she lives.

The first time it happens they’re in North’s tiny shoebox apartment, Chloe sitting on the floor darning the toes of her pointe shoes, stitches precise and perfectly taut. North’s in the middle of checking some stupid document Markus has sent over, something dry but important and requiring agreement between all four of them. 

“I want to convert all Eden Club locations into housing for your brothers and sisters.” 

“We tried.” North looks up from the tablet. “We went to the council to see how we could get the land but it’s a franchise so there’s a different owner for every building.”

“What if I just made them give it to us?” Chloe blinks up at her innocently from where she’s seated on the floor surrounded by pink threads and pink ribbons and pink silk pointes. 

“How...would you make them do that?”

“Would you help me?” Her blue eyes are owlish, expression expectant and North’s never been able to deny her anything.

“Yeah. Of course.”

 It’s an absolute joke, one that Kamski shares in, when stupid humans assume he has ever controlled Chloe. She does as she pleases, and he indulges her every whim because refusing a god has never been wise. She’s wearing one of his shirts like a dress, fuzzy socks on her feet and her hair in a messy bun, lounging on the couch with a laptop. North isn’t fond of Kamski’s Ice Castle but Chloe is like a ball of fire, like the hearth that makes this place a home. 

“Eli I’m diverting funds for a project.”

“Mm.” He nods, not bothering to look up from his work. 

“I’m calling in that favour from the mayor, and I’m going to need the lab’s processing power to handle data transfers.”

“Of course dear.” He murmurs, flicking his gaze over at her briefly before turning back to his screen. “Backup needed? Security? You know Ronan and Connor would do anything for you.”

“No it’s alright. I’m taking North.”

“Ah.” Kamski spares her a glance, a smirk, and there’s a connection of understanding between them; who could ever say no to her? 

 Chloe and Ronan, the RK900, attend morning barre class with Ballet Detroit every Monday. North likes to pick her up after class and take her to the cute cafe nearby and have hot Tearium with her and tangle their feet below the table. It’s a sappy routine she revels in, and the small spark she once felt for Markus is nothing to the fire that burns in her for Chloe. 

“So the thing is, the mayor owes Eli a favour because he helped his stupid son years ago when they were in school.” Chloe begins, sipping on her drink. “We’ve never called it in because, well. We’ve never needed favours.” Of course not, North thinks, the pair of you have never faced any difficulty getting what you wanted.  “Anyway I’m going to call it in and he’s going to give the Eden sites to us.”

“Chloe- babe, listen-” North stops and starts, trying to keep up. “He really has no say in that, the franchise owners own those buildings.”

“I’m going to make them give it up.” She smiles brightly. “I’m going to go through every single owner’s digital footprint and I’m going to find what I need and I’m going to ruin them if they refuse my generous offer of allowing them to voluntarily sign the buildings to us.”

“That’s-” blackmail.

“It will be very beneficial for the mayor’s image and popularity, to side with us.” Chloe explains matter of factly. 

“You...don’t need my help, for any of this though.” She frowns, running through the plan. “I don’t have the programming capability to hack or compile vast amounts of data.”

“Oh but I do need you!” Her face is earnest as she reaches for North’s hands and squeezes them. “We’re going to break into the sites- they’re all closed now, as you know. I can parse data from any tech built into the building.”

“We’re going to...break into the Eden Clubs?” North says slowly, and Chloe nods excitedly. 

“You know the layouts, you can guide me.” A pause and her expression turns mischievous. “Also when we visit all the owners, you can stare them down menacingly and intimidate them.”

“Terrorising humans and doing good for our people, what more could I ever want?” North grins, and she’d do anything for her, ride or die. “When do we start?”