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#and nowadays I can’t be too cautious
janeicethesiren · 10 months
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Black People in Kuroshitsuji is a criminally unexplored concept in fan works so I’m doing it myself
Hey guys, it’s me again and I’ve just slept for about 24 hours. And I wanna talk about black people!
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I’ll just lay it all on the table here, I’m black. I’m a young, neroufunky black woman in her twenties and I’ve been a part of many fandoms for most of these years. Regarding anime, black butler is the very first anime I’ve ever been introduced too. It has a special place in my heart for that reason.
I really do love this series! It’s dark, gritty, mysterious, and so complex! I love the characters, and the setting has so much to enjoy! And, in my opinion, this fandom has some of the best fanfic writers out there!
But I have to say, as much as I love all the content (the black butler x reader stuff too!) I just wish I could find some content that featured us, y’know?
Sooooo therefore, I’m doing it myself!
Y’know the saying, make the content you want to see in the world (that’s not the quote but you know what I’m tryna say.)? I’ve always admired fanfic writers and I always wanted to make my own fanfics but I was way too embarrassed and unconfident in my own writing skills. But recently I said, “fuck it!” and decided to do it anyway.
I was just thinking, y’know? What would it be like, as a black woman from the modern era, to come into contact with this world and these characters? What kind of challenges would she face? What would she go through? Could she get along with them? How would they treat her?
The Kuroshitsuji characters are very unique. They are simultaneously a product of their environment and time period but they all also seem to exist, to-an-extent, outside of it. A lot of them are quite unconventional individuals (not to mention, supernaturals that generally look down on humans), and they don’t all necessarily follow the traditional thinking and values of that era.
But, on the other hand, we have seen them all grapple with and perpetuate some…archaic societal views as well, for our current standards. I just think it could be so interesting for a black character to actually make continued contact with them! Especially a black female character. It could be so cool! There’s so much story potential there and it’s completely unexplored!
So, with all of that being said, I’m actually writing a story right now! It’s 11 chapters in and I’m currently almost done with chapter 12. If you’ve made it this far, I’m more than happy to post a link to it for your enjoyment! And please, please feel free to give feedback. This is my first time writing a story of this magnitude and I am NOT a professional writer. So any and all critiques/compliments are welcome! Just please don’t be mean, I’m really sensitive 😭.
Anywho, as always, this post is way longer than I thought. But would that be something you guys are interested in? I’m also toying with the idea of doing black butler x black!reader headcanons! So if you wanna send me some request based on that premise, please feel free to do so 👀.
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TLDR: A black female POV character for a Kuroshitsuji fic has a lot of potential for great storytelling and is criminally under explored so I’m currently writing my own fic about the idea. Also I might do some Black Butler x Black!reader headcanons so feel free to send some ideas/request in my inbox!
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unnaturalequilibrium · 2 months
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undefined number of favourite #mafin scenes [the flirting]
Love is love. Until love is between two women. Until it’s on screen, meant for a mainstream audience. Then it’s more like an improv class attended by a lot of negative Nancys and seems to always come with a “yes, and but-”. This isn’t news to you, I don’t have to tell you this, but - for context. This is a fact you know, it is a fact I know. Like I talked about in the letter, things have improved tremendously over the years though. The only way to include a lesbian storyline is no longer simply through subtext, you are allowed to show text. Granted the text is usually dimly lit and hand-pantsing is still fairly taboo (even though it does happen and doesn’t always lead to death nowadays). But we’ve come a ways since Doris Day lamenting about how badly she needs the hocus pocus of a woman’s touch before hooking up with a dude (because no homo!). Still to me this scene is actually a bit surprising in how graphic it’s allowed to be, even though it shows “nothing”. I mean - “your mouth drives me crazy” - that is pretty unequivocal even though it’s “only” presented as harmless dialogue, as “toothless” words (as if words hold less power to agitate). Their sexual desire for each other is literally spelled out and hides behind nothing. They smile, they flirt, they are outspoken about their yearning and it isn’t chaste.
I know the usual saying goes; show don’t tell. But since I was seven years old and brought corn from my aunt’s farm to our show and tell session at school I have been sort of a low key fan of the concept. Show and tell. So I do not hate this. I kind of get a kick out of it. Because even though none of the words spoken between them could be shown on screen due to decorum and proprietary and other words that ultimately mean straight people get a little squirmy when we are not about them (those facts I mentioned above). But that these words are allowed to be spoken, the way these words are spoken; that whole teasing foreplay of being incredibly explicit with your partner and telling them exactly what you want to do to them and with them - that is hot. Then they fucking bring it with their chemistry. Honestly their body language is almost the same for this as in the scene with the answer. They are challenging the other, inching closer, aggressive but this time it’s not anger and frustration, this time it is sexual but the frustration is as vibrant as it is mutual. Their bodies move in the same way, in both scenes. As if there are tiny little annoying electromagnets stuck in their limbs and each shared breath charges them until they can’t pull away from the responding little annoying electromagnets stuck in her neck, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth.
And I like it, because this is probably the first scene between them that is entirely made out of cumulus clouds. They’ve always had something hanging over them, or between them. But this is probably the first scene in which they come across as carefree and even though it’s just for a moment before the next curveball hits them, it feels fucking happy. Their smiles feel happy, simple and sincere. Sexually frustrated but happy. So to get to see two women express explicit sexual desire for each other in a moment that is played as nothing more than lighthearted and soft - that warms my cold cynic soul to the core and flames my libido in just the right way. Calamity Jane crawled so that Marta de la Reina could run - around joyfully talking about cunnilingus with a smile on her lips and her girlfriend by her side. 
I’d rather have hot slow progress over no progress. And yes there are shows that have come a lot further than this one has on that account, but those words speak pretty loudly too. Especially as they are splashed across a painting whose artist otherwise seems so incredibly cautious about using their gay brush to paint bold strokes with. Besides, the scene just made me happy, because they seem so happy in it. It’s infectious.
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otomehoneyybearr · 5 months
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Act 12
Episode 10: Decision Time
Working w/ Maybelle Lace
Note: As you read, you will see that some sentences highlighted in a different color, this is what they indicate.
Pink: Flashback
Blue: Characters are acting
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Tenma: I can’t believe a board member was behind all of this...
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Banri: Shit. It’s been that guy, all this time.
Sakuya: Amadate...
Izumi: Are you okay?
Sakuya: It's hard to believe, but it's the truth...
Izumi: I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier.
Sakuya: No, it's fine. It’s surprising, but I have to accept reality...
Syu: It's unfortunate that we're in a situation like this.
Zen: Originally, we planned to deal with it ourselves.
Hiro: Sorry for causing you trouble.
Kasumi: I'm sorry that we put you all in danger.
Izumi: There's no need, it's not your fault...!
Syu: But this is the seed we sowed. We were supposed to corner him, but we got outsmarted.
Syu: It may take a while, but we will definitely take responsibility and drag him out.
Hiro: You all of the next generation shouldn't become a repeat of what happened to us, the first generation.
Hiro: If you all become torn apart, you will just give him exactly what he wants.
Izumi: ——I see what you mean.
Izumi: But, let me just say one thing. We call ourselves the first generation and the new generation, but aren't we all a part of the same Mankai Company?
Izumi: We can't just leave these matters to you guys.
Izumi: The new generation has faced a lot of hurdles up until now, but each time we all talked it over and worked together to get through it.
Izumi: I am sure we will be able to overcome it this time too.
Izumi: The new generation has strong members, and if we work together, we'll definitely be able to beat any opponent.
Banri: You can't just make the first generation look cool while ignoring us.
Tsumugi: We’ll fight too.
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Tenma: Let us help you.
Sakuya: With all of us together, we will never lose!
Izumi: Once again, I would like to ask for everyone’s cooperation on this.
Izumi: As the general director, I will absolutely protect the Mankai Dormitory and Mankai Theater, where everyone's home is.
Izumi: So please, lend us your strength to overcome this crisis!
Sakyo: Obviously we’ll help.
Masumi: We'll do anything.
Yuki: Naturally.
Homare: Leave it to us.
Muku: I will do whatever I can to help!
Juza: I won't let ‘em hurt something important to me again.
Citron: If push comes to shove, we'll mobilize an army!
Itaru: How strong.
Guy: That may cause a diplomatic issue.
Syu: But there’s one thing we should be cautious about.
Syu: If the performance is canceled, the audience won’t be harmed, but the theater company members are a different issue.
Syu: Unless the troupe is disbanded, they will come after the troupe members. Nowadays, Amadate will stop at no lengths as long as it is a means to an end.
Syu: We won’t know what he’ll do next if he realizes that we’re still active despite canceling the performance.
Yuzo: We have to be very careful so that things don't end up the same way as they did before.
Izumi: ...
Izumi: (That's true... If the theater company continues any longer, everyone will be in danger.)
Izumi: (I don't want us to fall apart, and it's frustrating to have things go the way he wants...)
Izumi: (But in order to protect everyone, we may have no choice but to disband.)
......
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Board Member A: I would never have thought that a theater company with so much promise would suffer such misfortune.
Board Member B: Their performance was supposed to start tomorrow, correct? The situation seems quite hopeless for them...
Board Member C: Do we have any more details on the situation?
Board Member D: There haven’t been any announcements from the theater company yet.
Board Member A: Hmm, I wish there was something we could do to support them...
Amadate: It's a tragic incident, however the board of directors can't support any particular theater company...
Chairman: ...
Chairman: Let’s move on to today's agenda. We will introduce our new board member candidates.
Reni: ...
Amadate: So the Chairman's recommendation was Kamikizaka.
Reni: ...
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Amadate: ...What’s wrong?
Reni: ...It's nothing.
Chairman: Now then, each candidate, please give a brief introduction.
Board Candidate: That is all. Thank you.
Chairman: Next, is Kamikizaka.
Reni: I am Reni Kamikizaka. I am the founder and director of the GOD Troupe.
Reni: ...Having been in the theater industry for a long time, I know that the theater world is not as pristine as it seems.
Reni: I, myself, have engaged in acts that touch upon taboos that made me lose sight of myself just to surpass or undermine other theater troupes.
Reni: And I continue to regret those actions.
Reni: But that’s precisely why I want to dedicate myself to the actors and theater groups who earnestly devote themselves to the stage.
Amadate: It takes courage to confess your own mistakes. I am curious about the details of this.
Amadate: But do you really think someone who has made mistakes can get votes?
Reni: Because I can never change what I did in the past, I want to sincerely dedicate myself to the future of the theater world.
Reni: ...And I vow to never overlook the presence of those who, like me, have made such mistakes and lurk in the darkness.
Amadate: ...
Reni: (However, since the deal with K fell through, I can’t continue the plan to expose Amadate.)
Reni: (After all, he’s a tricky opponent. I’ll have to work more carefully than I did before.)
Reni: (But I won’t give up. I WILL break his stronghold.)
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maxbegone · 1 year
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If you honestly think this is going to be seven sentences, you don’t know me by now! Happy late Sunday/early Monday, I hope the week treats you well ♥️
Alex misses being extroverted, but he knows he can never be too cautious. In this world, it’s all about protecting what you have.
He stands, propping the end of the rifle through the window of the watchtower. Finger on the trigger, safety off, looking through the sight.
“Take another step, and you each get one between your eyes,” he calls out to them warningly.
They stop short, hands raising.
“What do you want?”
“We—we didn’t know this area was occupied,” one of them says. He has a heavy British accent and he’s handsome under the wear and tear of whatever it is they’ve been through. “We’re just trying to find a way through.”
“Yeah, well the only way through is back that way if you don’t want trouble.” Alex gestures with the rifle. “Sorry.”
“Listen, mate, we’ve been walking for three days. We’re just looking for a place to kip that isn’t in the woods.” He smiles a little. “I swear.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah.” The man smiles weakly. “We were with a group, but you know how it is out there.”
Alex’s brow furrows. “Can’t say I do too well anymore. Now what do y’all actually want?” He asks, keeping his aim steady.
Alex could shoot the cap off a glass bottle a hundred paces away and not shatter the damn thing, no questions asked. June could do it almost double.
“A place to sleep,” the same man reiterates. “That’s all. Listen, my name is Percy. My mate here is Henry. We don’t have anything to trade, but we’ve been walking for days and we’re just trying to find some shelter.”
For the first time in a long time, Alex hesitates.
He shouldn’t, but at his core he’s a people person, and even several years into a scarce world hasn’t seemed to fix that. Outside of his core community of himself, June, the three of their parents, Nora, and Raf, he hasn’t seen many people. Who has nowadays? And this excludes Zahra and Shaan who pop in and out every few weeks.
The world went to shit, people either retreated or died, and Alex’s family took the farmland Leo’s uncle left to him back in the early nineties.
They thrive, but they do so with who they have and who they can trust. Everyone else has been turned away at the gate or given what they needed and sent on their way. They have been very lucky not to get ambushed in the years since. Raf believes it’s because no one would be dumb enough to go through that much wilderness and up that steep a hill to do so. Ellen thinks it’s pure luck.
He studies them both from his vantage point: heavy-looking backpacks, mud-covered boots and well-worn clothes, they’re both dirty. There’s something different about them though, and Alex can’t quite put his finger on it. He looks from Percy to the other man, Henry, and finds himself immediately stilling. He has windswept blond hair that looks like it hasn’t been cut in quite a while, a gash on his cheek and some bruising under his eye. Alex catches his gaze, finding it impossible not to hold it for a few long beats at least.
“You can search us! We don’t have any weapons,” Henry pipes up. He’s British, too, and his voice is rich and melodic, despite how it wavers. Alex finds himself wanting to hear more.
Jesus fucking Christ, what is this shit?
“None? Out there?” They both shake their heads. He’s not sure he fully buys it. “Are y’all insane?”
“It’s stupid,” Percy admits. “Others had them, we were protected. We’ve been scrounging off rations of rations since.”
“Where were you headed?”
“Niagara. There’s a safe haven there.”
Alex huffs an inaudible laugh. “Yeah, lots of rumors about those.”
“Can’t be sure about much,” Henry says in lieu of agreement, and Percy nods.
“But it was our best option. We started off in Manhattan.”
Jesus. Alex sighs. He keeps the rifle pointed on them as he picks up his walkie. It chirps to life. “Gonna need some help at the gate, bug.”
“Roger dodger.”
Alex turns his attention back to the two men. “Don’t move,” he commands. “I’m coming down.”
He slings the rifle onto his back, pockets his walkie and makes the climb down the ladder, keeping them in sight as best he can.
He fixes his hat as he strides over, and the closer he gets, the more he begins to see. Percy looks off, unwell, but he’s standing tall and cooperative, expression affixed in something between friendly and neutral. Henry looks better, by comparison, but not by much. He’s certainly taken a few hits, at least physically.
“We’re gonna wait for backup,” Alex tells them both. He keeps his rifle at ease, but stares at them in a way that keeps them frozen to the spot. “Anything funny happens and that’s it.”
They both nod, and Percy says, “Noted.”
It takes about five minutes or so for June to arrive from her part of the property, hair pulled back into a high ponytail and a hand over the revolver in the holster on her waist. “We got company?”
“Could be friendlies,” Alex tells her, dropping his voice, but June’s mouth pulls to the side, protective nature coming out. “Looking for refuge for the night.”
“Gotta play it safe. Sorry, y’all.” She looks at them both and tilts her head up toward the sky. “Storm’s brewing, too.”
“Let’s hurry this up, then. Drop your bags,” Alex instructs. “Arms out.”
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anathemafiction · 2 years
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A Single Bed
The floor sways up and down, but it has been so long since it bothered him. Nowadays, it's the steady ground that unsettles him — the rocks are too still, the walls too stationary, and the tension he always carries in his legs accomplishes nothing besides making his muscles ache.
No, the Pirate King likes it when the four walls rock and the floorboards creak, and whenever he takes a step, he accounts for the need to keep his core perfectly tight. Dry land is far away, hidden in the cover of a starless night and the two torches burning bright behind the opulence of his desk make the shadows dance around his shoulders and cling to the sides of his face in a way that has his smirk seem almost unnaturally wide.
He takes advantage of the dramatic effect when he spins towards you, arms opened wide, gold buttons flashing in his vest, long midnight hair falling in thin stripes around his forehead. "Welcome," the Pirate says, putting one boot in front of the other to bow before you. "To my den. Make yourself at home, for tonight what's mine is yours. But have no worries: what's yours remains yours alone."
You stand by the doorway to his chambers, the captain's quarters, and the Pirate sees your eyes slowly start exploring the space. He straightens up, resting his hands on the handles of his twin axes and leaning on the edge of the big oaken desk behind him. He smiles as you take the first cautious steps inside. This room is a point of pride. Everything inside, from the paintings to the chests and the covers of the massive bed, was picked specifically by him — it was also earned by his hand alone. The quill, the sconces, the armed chair with a silk covering, the Pirate plundered them all and stored them throughout the years.
Everything here is a reflection of himself, and the Pirate can't help but think how perfectly you fit amongst it. He leans back further, black eyes watching you gingerly touch the heavy drapes on the western windows. You’re like a treasure he found, or one that simply drifted towards him. Glistering and unique and, right now, finally turning to face him.
"It's bigger than I thought it'd be," you say.
The Pirate shrugs. "It's a big ship."
You walk to the middle of his chamber, near the steps that take from the office space to the more personal quarters where his bed dominates the view. "It's more homely too." You purse your lips. "Or comfortable, I suppose. Aren't ships and vessels meant to be..."
His smile tilts to one corner. "Shit?"
He sees those pretty lips of yours tilting too. "Your words, not mine."
He chuckles. He always liked your wit. "That's a misconception. Nothing in life has to be bad, peach. And if it is, well." The fingers tighten on his axes. "You make it good."
His voice came out lower than he intended, more of a growl, but the Pirate can't say he regrets it when he sees you shiver. He has to fight himself from stalking towards you, from seeing up close the way you suddenly bite your lower lip. You like it? The Pirate wants to see your eyes, now, but you're too far away.
"By force?" Comes your voice, and he can't tell what it is he's hearing. It's akin to a whisper too, one that has his shoulders tensing. The door is closed, and you're alone together, and for the first time in a long while, he doesn't know how to proceed.
But he's not about to show it. "By whatever means you need to," he answers, staring deep at you. Come closer.
(...)
"Hell."
She goes down with a groan. The thin mattress creaks under her weight, and Neia feels one of the springs jump up and dig right between her shoulder blades. The pain is annoying, warmth spreading to the socket of her shoulder, but it's not enough to make her move. If anything, she sinks even harder on the pathetic excuse for a bed, letting her limbs deflate on top of the musty cover.
Had it been her old self, she would have called back the clerk and asked him if this is his idea of a bed. Because it isn't hers. The mattress sits on the floor against a dusty corner, and beneath an even dustier window, and had it been but a few months prior, she would make the useless man clean every inch of the room before even stepping one foot inside.
No. She would have made him give up his room and have him sleep in this rat's nest instead. She would have—
But Neia, the former Dawnseeker, is done with interrogations. And, right now, she's done with the world in general. Her armor lies half-discarded on the floor beside her, sword pommel a few inches away from her fingers, and her muscles buzz with relief. The mattress is bumpy and uncomfortable, and the fucking spring is now digging into the back of her neck, but Neia closes her eyes and welcomes the darkness. At least, there's quiet.
She breathes in, deeply, and holds the air in her lungs. Her skin tingles almost pleasantly, and she moves her toes one by one. The road had been as it always is. The bottom of her feet are so calloused that she barely feels a thing, but even so, it sure is good to lay down. To not have to carry her own weight.
Slowly, she lets the air go in a drawled-out exhale. Her chest deflates, her thoughts numb, and the scar on her lip twists around a grimace that isn't entirely disgruntled. She'll take this poor excuse for a bed if it means she gets to—
"Uh."
Her mouth twists down in a snarl. Neia cracks one eye open, scowl deepening at the sight of the ceiling stained with humidity, and shifts her head the slightest bit to the side until she sees you.
Standing beside her bed like an idiot. "What?" she growls.
You lift an eyebrow. "There's only one bed," you tell her in a too casual tone of voice. Neia doesn't know when you started adopting that tone with her, but she doesn't like it. She also doesn't do anything about it.
You look at her, waiting for an answer. Neia doesn't know why she simply doesn't close her eyes and go back to sleep, ignoring you like the nuance you are but... something makes her answer. "And?" she gruffs. Not much of an answer, but she sees you frowning, and now her scar twists again as she smirks.
She likes that look on you.
"And you're all sprawled there as if you're here alone," you protest, crossing your arms over your chest. "There's no room for me."
"How's that my problem?"
You blink, and then look so offended, Neia has to bite her tongue to keep from chuckling. "I am not sleeping on the floor, Neia," you say, trying and failing to sound threatening.
Neia does laugh then, the sound rough and low. "Seems to me you're out of options, sweetling," she says. She closes her eyes again and turns her chin upwards.
But she snaps them open right back when she feels the mattress shift. Neia sits up, fingers already clenching her sword when she sees your silhouette kneeling on the bed. You're tucked in the only available room between her long legs, and moonlight falls on your hair like the veil of a ghost.
"If you don't move, I'll just sleep on top of you," you have the bravery to say, your eyes narrowed, and your lips tightened, and Neia will be damned, but she thinks you'll actually do it. You'll actually dare to lay down on top of her.
Slowly, oh so very slowly, Neia lets go of her sword to sit up properly. Even seated, she looms above you, and she makes sure to use that. She leans forward, forcing you to slant your neck back, the resolute light in your eyes shifting to nervousness as Neia brings her face right beside your own. Yellow eyes brimming, scar twisting.
Holding back a chuckle.
"Are you sure about this?" she asks in a hiss. "Are you sure you want to share a bed with me?"
(...)
The entire piece is available on Patreon!
Part One — Hadrian, Alessa, Alain and Ysabella
Part Two — The Pirate King, Neia, Lance and Rafael
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lanitaps · 25 days
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Why do I admire Z?
She is massively talented. She has a beautiful singing voice, she can dance, she is a fashion icon, an amazing photographer and a wonderful actress.
I think she is charismatic, highly intelligent, intuitive and strategic. She seems really clued in to how she emotionally and socially impacts others. Because of this she seems really good at accommodating to other people’s needs and expectations and she often makes those around her feel comfortable. She is good at making other people feel seen, heard, included. She seems to have strong people radar. She is able to pick up on people that are fake or have negative intentions. It looks like she’s been able to do this from a young age, which blows my mind and likely has protected her from exploitation.
She seems to have a strong sense of self. She trusts her own intuition. As a young black woman in this world and in a particularly toxic context like Hollywood, this characteristic of being able to trust yourself, that still small voice, has been and will be more valuable to her than all the money in the world. I also like that values excellence, accuracy, clarity, correctness; and likes to question things and get more precise. And she is a planner! I can see how these characteristics can bring stability to those close to her (I’m looking at you Tom). I think she also has a decent understanding of her privilege and power and I admire the way she does not shy away or deny this.
Z seems to be able to bounce comfortably between being very aware of what others expect of her and doing what makes sense to her. She has pretty sharp, clear personal boundaries. And I can’t tell you how much I wish I had this at her age.
Z has a very big heart and comes across as a person with a deep well of compassion. I love how she loves those close to her. She seems to deeply understand, nurture and support people in the ways that they need. Her unapologetic love, support, and enthusiasm for Tom is such a wonderful and wholesome thing to witness (and his for her!!!)
I also think that big heart is very tender and I admire the way she protects it fiercely. Some might say she protects it too much. I don’t think so. She is necessarily cautious as a young woman in a world that doesn’t fully value women. I just think you need to earn her trust. Once she allows you to do this, she will let you in and will be staunchly loyal to you.
I love how introverted she is - I admire how she is not afraid to enjoy and value her own company. I feel particularly protective of this part of her.
I LOVE how pro-black she is. I just get the sense that she is rooting for, looking out for, and wanting to uplift black people everywhere. I also think she is continually educating herself and exposing herself to black art and consciousness.
Nowadays, she seems drawn to things and activities that help her be more in the moment and get to explore the outside world in a physical and sensory way. She might be more invested in what’s happening right now instead of what could happen, and I love that for her.
I miss her not being on social media but I fully support her choice to stay away and to protect her life from the public as much as she can. She owes us nothing!
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the-monkey-ruler · 10 months
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I'm always curious about Peng, why are his nephews said to be murdered like some people say? Do demons always get unfair treatment in some stories? Or is it more that humans can be forgiven more easily by the gods agaisnt harmless demons?
I’m afraid that you might have the demon confused because Peng does not have nephews... unless you mean the Buddha? Because that is his "god-nephew" so to speak. He has a sister but I’m not familiar with his sister having biological children. Do you mean the Immortal Ruyi? His nephew being Red Boy? Or the Seven Fox King, his nephews being Golden Horn and Silver Horn? Or even Ao Guang with his nephew being the rouge dragon Toulong? There are a lot of demons or dragons or even celestials with nephews but please send my the passage where it says the Golden Wing Peng has nephews because I cannot find that anywhere.
And I can’t say that Yaoguai always get mistreated as these stories were originally created as omens, demons being the symbolic nature of desires or temptations, that people have to mentally overcome. It is only in recent media, or even in recent years does the idea that Yaoguai being more than physical embodiments of evil and desire, actually comes into fruition. So I can say that with a lot of modern media, they make these demons a lot more sympathetic, and even relatable to the audience but originally, that was never meant to be the case, and thus any punishment put on the was never meant to cause harm to the audience because you relate to the demon, but rather being a sense of justification because the demon is meant to relate to the hardships of the world. Even in White Snake, it is only with the latest iteration that is it a love story of two people who cannot be together rather than cautious that even your wife isn’t who you think they are. Stories and meanings change over time depending on the audience, but the original intention should always be kept in mind.
Humans can be forgiven for sins because they have that nature in them that they can change and even be more and grow more. Humans by nature are able to reach that point in the wheel of reincarnation, where they can reach, enlightenment through their actions, unlike animals. Animals are meant to wait for their karma to balance out so that in the next life, they could be human to reach that enlightenment but otherwise, if they skip that step, it is considered going against the laws of nature. Even Yaoguai that are considered harmless are still defying their karma by skipping their human steps and waiting for the next life. Nowadays we see a lot of modern media play with Yaoguai struggles and it is great media but Yaoguai were created with the idea of being almost like cryptic or just beings that defy the laws of nature and thus bring chaos. Yaoguai where created with that conception, and I think when looking back on the stories, it wouldn’t be fair to try to put that modern perception of sympathetic villains onto villains that were very one-dimensional. Like nowadays, it can be fun to dissect villains and try to find relatable connections with the audience, but I never want to try to say that was the original creation's intention ever.
I did find a passage when looking more into any references to Peacock in the story and I do see that the Peacock had two disciples I don't think this is what you were thinking cause you said nephews and this is a boy and a girl bird. Also they were not murdered out of spite or anything that they did wrong but because they are... birds, just shot down by an unknowing king. It’s like accidentally fucking around and finding out when he was just going on a completely normal hunt of the day. In reality, there was no way of the king to know that these birds where different from any other he hunted, and while sad was never malicious in his actions. Hunting itself isn't a crime, just that he was unlucky enough to choose far too important targets. Heaven actually does punish the king for UNKNOWINGLY killing birds that just so happen to be under Heaven's protection because the Peacock demanded justice for her disciples. She is right to do so but this does show actual favoritism to the animals over the humans in this rare case because they have a celestial's backing. He was forced to be sick for three years and have his own wife taken from him like how this couple was ripped apart. That is why Guanyin's steed the Jupiter's Rival kidnaps his wife as karma. So if anything this was a human facing punishment for harming heavenly animals.
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Again I have never read anything about the Golden Winged Peng having nephews, so if you could send me a link or passage from the book or anything that would be great.
Edit: a friend has told me they are her children so the offspring is correct! A boy and a girl!
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asking-jude · 1 year
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Hi, um first off, I hope you are having a good day. So, I have been having the worst panic attacks recently. Whenever something terrible happens and these are usually things that happen so far away, I feel awful and scared for the people that could be effected by it. However, I can’t really do anything about it because I don’t have the ability too. I then I feel terrible. I feel useless. Like, I’m not worth anything because I can’t help. There are certain things I can do. I just get the sensation that have to be a big hero and swoop in and help everyone. I’m no Superman though. I see so many people fighting against it because they have the power to do more than I can, that’s wonderful. Also, there’s so much news feeds nowadays that can’t tell what’s real or fake. It’s confusing and scary. I get so angry with myself
Do you want free, fast mental health help? Visit askingjude.org.
Hey there,
I hope you’re having a good day too!
I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been experiencing anxiety recently. What you’re describing sounds like an intense feeling of helplessness, which is understandable considering how easily news can circulate on social media nowadays. Your feelings are completely valid, especially concerning events outside of your control. I can tell you have compassion for others and a desire to help, which is admirable. It’s important, however, to remember that you don’t have to be a superhero to make a difference in someone’s life. When things feel overwhelming and outside of your control, know that even small acts of kindness can have a positive impact on the world. Sometimes just listening to someone or making a small donation to a cause you care about can make a significant change. Depending on where you are in life, you could also consider going into a career field that involves activism and advocacy. Even volunteering can help you channel your frustration into positive action. As long as these activities feel manageable, there is potential for growth. I know it can be infuriating, but it’s important to recognize your limitations and focus on what you can do, no matter how insignificant it may feel.
These websites might help you find new ideas for some small activities that can ease the sense of powerlessness you’ve been feeling: https://shorturl.at/bLY12; https://shorturl.at/cmN26.  
It’s tough to navigate the constant barrage of news sites and channels, especially when it’s getting harder and harder to know what is real and what is biased. There are many news outlets that spread sensationalized information or even misinformation. Try to seek out news and information from reputable sources and fact-check claims that you come across. Being able to understand what’s actually happening rather than the narrative of certain outlets can help you better evaluate the situation. Having the full context of the story will likely help ease some of the anxiety or stress you are experiencing. Stay informed, but always be cautious and critical of what you read or watch.
Here are a few websites that you might find helpful. The first link provides a list of credible news sources. The second should help you better understand how to spot fake news when you see it: https://shorturl.at/dAMN6; https://shorturl.at/ghnM4. 
Taking breaks and limiting your exposure to social media and news can also help you manage your anxiety about these subjects. I know it may seem like you’ll be out of the loop or unable to help, but putting your mental and physical health first is essential. Paying too much attention to negativity can make it harder for you to direct your energy into positive actions. Focus on self-care and maintaining a healthy balance in your life. It can often seem impossible not to doom-scroll or continually consume negative news. This cycle can drain your emotional energy and increase stress. It's fantastic that you want to help, but remember that taking care of yourself is also important. You could try setting a time limit for how long you spend scrolling through social media or news websites. You can also engage in activities that help you relax and recharge, like meditation, exercise, journaling, or spending time with loved ones. This article might be helpful if the idea of doom-scrolling is relatable to you: https://www.choosingtherapy.com/doomscrolling/. 
Panic attacks are incredibly distressing, and it’s unfortunate that you’re currently struggling with them. Always remember that there are resources available that can help you navigate this situation. Try to practice self-compassion and be patient with yourself. If you are still struggling, it could be beneficial to reach out to trusted friends and family or a licensed counselor or therapist. This is an important step in managing your anxiety. You shouldn’t have to feel this way, and you certainly don’t have to deal with it on your own. If you ever feel overwhelmed enough to require immediate support, follow this link to find free, 24/7, confidential assistance: https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline or call 1-800-662-HELP (4357). 
The following articles should help you learn more about dealing with news anxiety: https://shorturl.at/iAKZ4; https://shorturl.at/tyI17; https://shorturl.at/hwKP2; https://tinyurl.com/mtmwxp7a; https://shorturl.at/lBQUW. 
This article also provides a few things you can try when you feel hopeless: https://shorturl.at/iwIWZ. 
These articles offer information that can help guide you through your panic attacks: https://tinyurl.com/m8mfdsu7; https://tinyurl.com/3dyrmykw. 
Finally, if you require more assistance coping with this feeling of powerlessness, then these articles can help you set healthy boundaries and better understand your feelings: https://shorturl.at/uzW89; https://shorturl.at/eGIT9; https://shorturl.at/rwyIS. 
I hope that you found some of this information helpful. Please feel free to reach out to Asking Jude again if there is anything else you’d like to share. 
Be safe and be kind,
Mikayla
Ask a question here.
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papayafiles · 9 months
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i mean both of them, at first! which makes sense given they were basically kids thrown into the circus of f1 😭 i think anyone would be a little shy in those conditions// don't know about noris but if anyone lived parents like Max's all would end up shy/cautious :( poor babe
from what i know lando’s family is very warm and loving so i think that’s just his natural personality (even nowadays when new people meet him they’ve reported him being a bit shy) (this fact just makes him that much more endearing to me)
and max tbf was also just Very Young when he started in f1, so the age difference was probably part of it too! i still can’t believe they put a seventeen year old in a formula 1 car 😭 the insanity that is the red bull industrial complex
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megumishotgf · 2 years
Text
drunk-dazed ・゚: *✧
summary: katsuki picks you up after you have a night out with your friends.
warnings and tags: drinking, mentions of sex (y/n wants to bang but katsuki says not in your drunken state!), fem reader described as wearing heels + makeup
masterlist
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katsuki is going to blow your head off when he sees how drunk you are.
but at the same time, he was expecting you to get absolutely hammered, no matter how much he told you to keep your drinking tonight to a minimum. nowadays, it’s difficult to find a day where all of you and you friends are available to meet and catch up. while katsuki likes seeing you enjoy yourself, sometimes he wishes you would stay somewhere he could see you and make sure you’re safe.
it’s not like you can’t handle yourself - but you know how overprotective he is. he won’t believe you’re safe and out of harm’s way unless he can see it with his own two eyes. he’s a pro-hero. he’s seen far too many situations rapidly turn sour, it’s only natural for him to be as cautious with his personal life too.
katsuki’s out the door as soon as he hears your voice on the other side of the line. you’re slurring how much you miss him and love him so dearly. as he’s switching on the car ignition, you make a flirty remark about how good he looked earlier that day during his morning patrol. he tells you to shut up and to stay on the line while he makes his way to you.
“katsuki!” you call out loudly when you see him, wobbling over in your heels. “i missed you soooo much.”
“hey! be careful, idiot. i don’t need you falling and breaking your damn legs,” he replies, circling his arm around your waist to help you balance as you sloppily kiss his cheek. you can’t help being so touchy when your boyfriend is just walking around causally, looking like a greek god. has he always looked this irresistible?
“wait! katsu, can we drop off mina and tooru too? please!”
“fine.”
on the surface, katsuki looks irritated at your request but you know he would never refuse. he would always protect his ex-classmates, even if he never admits it directly. you’ve grown to understand katsuki more than anyone else - he cares so much more than people think and it’s one of your favourite things about him. you give him another kiss before he helps you into the front seat.
you’re giggling and hiccuping the entire car ride. katsuki pretends not to care about the gossip he hears between you three but you know he’s listening attentively. he also pretends not to notice the suggestive looks you’re giving him the entire journey.
you drop off both mina and tooru shortly after at their residences. katsuki waits for them to safely get through their doors before beginning to finally drive back home. you’ve gone quiet, as if your friends leaving magically drained you of all your energy. you’ve kicked your shoes off under the seat and have pulled your knees up to your chest. katuski can still feel your prying eyes on him - he knows what that look means.
once katsuki parks up outside your home, he leans over to undo your seatbelt for you. you take this as an opportunity to cup his cheeks and pull him into a heated kiss. he kisses you back but restrains you as he feels your hands start to wander further down. katsuki pulls away and says your name in a stern tone.
“but i wore your favourite dress,” you sulk, “don’t you think i look pretty?”
“you know what i think, y/n.” he replies. of course he noticed what you were wearing. it’s his favourite silky, red dress. it hugs you so perfectly and drives him absolutely insane. you’re still pouting and looking at him with your big, glossy doe eyes. he sighs, “you look beautiful, baby. but i’m not fucking you when you’re drunk.”
“okay…” you say before opening the door and swinging you legs out of the car. katsuki’s already by your side, worried you will trip and fall flat on your face. you raise your arms at him and pout, “carry me, katsu?”
he could never say no to your pretty face. he scoops you up in his arms, letting you breathe in his familiar scent. this is where you feel safest. you’re resting your eyes as he’s carefully manoeuvring the house keys out of his pocket and getting the door open.
the warmth from your boyfriend and home feels like a comforting blanket on top of you. you’re already starting to drift off, and you moan when katsuki starts setting you down on the cold bathroom counter. he’s taking all your skincare products and doing your routine for you, just as he’s seen and watched you do a hundred times before. micellar water, cleanser, toner… the glycerine moisturiser his mother gave you as a birthday present. he scoffs at the memory. you and mitsuki spent the whole evening laughing at his baby pictures and embarrassing childhood stories.
“katsuki, i’m so sleepy…” you murmur, resting your head in the crook of his neck. you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, feeling defined muscles under his thin shirt. mmh. my boyfriend has such perfect arms.
“not yet, idiot!” he reprimands you for dozing off. he still needs to brush your teeth and get you dressed!
it’s a pain trying to brush your teeth. you keep trying to cuddle him and complain about the toothpaste being to spicy. katsuki thinks you’re adorable when you’re like this, though. you drank a bottle of water in the car (as he instructed you to) so he hopes some of the alcohol has been flushed out. then tomorrow morning you won’t feel so utterly and entirely dreadful. even if he likes having to take care of you (of course, he will never admit this).
shortly after you’re back in your boyfriend’s arms, being carried back into the bedroom. you laugh sleepily when he throws you playfully onto the bed. he knows you’re completely exhausted when he’s taking your dress off for you and you don’t take the opportunity to make a flirtatious joke. and, of course, he notices the pretty set you put on underneath it. he notes to ask you about it later.
you’re clinging onto him as soon as you’re tucked into bed. he had given you his shirt to wear off his back so now you can feel his bare skin against your fingertips.
“i’m sorry for getting so drunk, katsuki. i’m going to feel so bad tomorrow. and i don’t mean to make you worry,” you mumble sadly into the pillow.
“you know the shit i see working, y/n. that’s the only reason i worry so damn much. even if you’re strong and can handle yourself,” he explains, fingers gently caressing the skin under your shirt. “but i will always come get you. no matter how drunk you are or how mad you think i’ll be. alright, brat?”
“mmh. i love you, kacchan. you’re the best boyfriend ever.”
ah. that stupid nickname. it’s grown on him a little, especially since you started saying it.
“yeah, yeah. i love you too, brat.”
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thank you to anyone who has read / liked / reblogged any of my writings. can't believe the love this fic has received!! you are awesome ♡
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smithqjohns · 2 years
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Apparently anyone can be a meteorologist in Portland. I’m getting my certificate tonight online from Phoenix University. Takes 15 minutes…
It took over four hours to get home yesterday. We could’ve walked home the 12 miles and it would’ve been faster.
It took me an hour to get from SE 28th to Westside (about 28 blocks plus a bridge).
Then another hour to get from West 1st Ave to West 23rd (About 35 blocks, see photo - 28 minutes to go 0.7 miles of that).
Then we spent 30 minutes putting tire chains on, but they were too small - they were from another car we had. Our fingers and toes started going numb and clothes got all dirty and wet trying to attach them underneath the car in the snow (insert laughing emoji). The chains were so close to fitting (less than an eighth of an inch away, so we kept trying).
Then another almost 30 minutes driving five blocks to a parking garage to park the car to take the max train home. It didn’t feel safe to drive and we were barely moving in traffic. A few cars almost ran into us (we didn’t want to leave it downtown because of all the theft so we chose the parking garage, fingers crossed it’s a little safer, thoughts and prayers).
So three hours so far. Plus another 40 minutes to get home on the max... but that ended up taking about 75 minutes because people kept blocking the tracks with their car. When I was in the Holler (Goose Hollow, near suicide bridge) my buddy Raso could see our train from his balcony (it was parked there for about 25 minutes) and said he could bring me warm socks, an extra layer of clothing and some food. He was on his way when the train left, so we missed him, but what a nice gesture.
(He was bringing me a sweater because I was dressed for the predicted 40 degree weather with some snow, not a snow storm that was inches deep and 31 degrees.)
If you’re wondering how things will go in an apocalypse, here is a reminder that people will be stupid and selfish and make it much worse (insert laughing emoji).
When you drive normally you are supposed to be no less than a car-length’s distance from the car in front of you. In snow people should be even more cautious and aware of this, but folks (practically everyone) were bumper to bumper, and sometimes would hit the car in front of them because the snow caused them to slide as they braked.
Along with that, cars kept blocking intersections instead of waiting for when there was enough space to cross. Don’t get me started with drivers in Portland nowadays (insert laughing emoji)…
You can make fun of my old man rant here, but in my defense this has been bugging the hell out of me since I got my driver’s license at 16.
(Insert Spark’s Everybody’s Stupid https://youtu.be/DUZ2xtNm1L8 here)
That all being said, we were/are totally fine. Other folks had it much worse, we saw numerous car wrecks. Numerous cars next to us got stuck on barely an incline, some with no incline. We would be in stand still traffic for 15 minutes and then realize that a few cars in front of us was a stuck vehicle and no one was helping them push, or someone was helping but it wasn’t working (apparently not pushing it REAL GOOD). Saw lots of trucks slipping and sliding (which what’s the point of having a truck if you can’t drive in snow?). We saw something that looked like lightning (rarely does that here) and found out generators (a few) went out and entire buildings were without electricity, even now as I’m writing this the next day.
It snows and ices up almost every year here and it shuts down the entire city and Portland is never ever prepared, even after all of the “progress” that was supposed to bring wealth and help with these type of situations (insert laughing emoji).
I lived in Michigan and have been numerous places when it snows. It would snow two feet and everyone still went to work and went about their business because those cities were prepared (they would even jog in the snow). Portland will close roads without warning while you’re waiting two hours in traffic to get to that road, and that’s about it (insert laughing emoji).
Normally when it snows even a little I avoid leaving just because of things like this happening, people think I’m crazy because of it (other valid reasons too I guess), but I’ve learned from experience. This time however I didn’t go with my gut… it’s my own fault…
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mammonsbby · 3 years
Text
Christmas in the Devildom
A/N: I know it's a week late, but I'm so happy with this fic! I hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to check out my ko-fi and patreon, in pinned post! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
✨My Masterlist✨
Warnings: Cursing, gift giving, Christmas-related activities Pairing: Demon brothers x poly!GN!MC Words: 4055
You never expected to celebrate Christmas during your stay in the Devildom. After all, it’s filled with literal demons who couldn’t care less about the holiday. You thought you were fine with it, but as December approached, you realized that you were going to miss exchanging gifts with your loved ones. And now, you have new loved ones…
You toyed with the idea of having Christmas in Hell. It was a ridiculous notion, but… since it was important to you, you decided to ask. You’ll never forget Lucifer’s face when you bring it up on the second day of December.
“So… guys,” you start, sitting your fork down. Each of the demons at the table looks up in your direction.
“What is it, MC?” Lucifer asks, picking up his glass to take a sip.
“You don’t really do Christmas here, do ya?” you ask. At that, Lucifer nearly chokes on his drink, eyes bulging slightly. Belphie laughs at him and a couple of the brothers snort.
After Lucifer recovers, his eyes narrowed to thin slits at the ones who dared to laugh at him, he looks back to you. “No, we do not,” he answers simply, taking another, more cautious sip just in case you’re about to mention Easter.
You nod to yourself. You figured as much, but…
“How averse are we to doing a little something for the human’s sake?” you ask, resting your chin on your hand.
Lucifer’s face twists into one of… anger? Annoyance? Confusion?
“MC, we’re demons. We’re naturally opposed to celebrating… that.” he answers calmly.
“Yeah, I know. I know. I just… miss it,” you say, looking down at your lap.
“Aw, you made our human sad,” Asmo whines.
You hear a sigh from the head of the table and know that Lucifer’s just about to give in, so you continue. “My favorite part is decorating. No, no, giving gifts. Or baking cookies—”
“I’m in.” Beel somehow manages to cut you off, with a mouthful of food.
“Gifts?” asks Mammon, eyes gleaming.
“Yeah, you buy presents for the people you love! And you make gingerbread houses. I’m not great at it, but it’s still fun. The decorating is fun too.”
“Wait… What do you decorate exactly?” Asmo asks, taking a sudden interest.
“Everything. I mean, you put up a tree with lights and ornaments and tinsel. And—”
“A tree?” Satan asks, a strange look on his face.
“Yeah, a pine tree. Nowadays, most people use fake ones. And, uh, you hang stockings on the mantle.” You’ve never realized how odd this would be to hear for the first time. Everyone just looks more confused than ever.
“Fake trees…” Levi mutters, “normies.”
“There’s a lot of Christmas movies we could all watch together! I just think it’d be a nice way to have fun with you guys.”
Everyone seems to be considering it. You look to Lucifer, who seems to be having a mental debate, and decide to pull out your secret weapon.
“I bet Diavolo would love to learn more about human customs.” you say, picking at your plate.
“That’s blackmail,” Lucifer says, knowing that if it gets to the prince, it’ll be unbearable.
Satan snickers, “I’m proud of you, MC.”
“As long as Lord Diavolo isn’t involved, I suppose it’ll be alright. What do we do?”
You clap your hands together in excitement. “Holy crap! I didn’t think you’d go for it. But we can decorate a tree and I’ll find some good cookie recipes… And we’ll all get each other gifts and exchange them on the 25th! And I have a list of movies—”
“Woah, woah, woah, human. I’m a little strapped for cash right now. I can’t afford to blow a buncha money on these losers,” Mammon says, waving his hand at his brothers, most of whom groan.
“You’re always ‘strapped for cash,’ dumbass,” Levi mutters.
“For real,” adds Satan.
“Okay… then, we’ll do Secret Santa?” you suggest.
“Secret Santa?” Beel asks between bites.
“Yeah, Santa.”
“What’s that?” says Asmo.
“Santa Claus…” You’re met with seven confused faces. Fuck, another stupid thing that you have to explain.
“Uh, long story short, he’s the face of Christmas. He’s got a long white beard and he’s fat and he wears a red suit. And he comes down the chimney at night with a bag filled with presents. And he leaves them under the tree. That you decorate.” You try your best to make sense, but it seems to be a lost cause. Every word makes you seem more and more insane.
“MC, have you hit your head recently?” Belphie yawns.
“Uh, no…” Before you can tell him that you’ve been doing Christmas your whole life, you’re interrupted.
“Wait… So, some creepy, old man breaks into your house? Through the chimney?” asks Asmodeus, completely appalled at the thought.
“Hey, if he’s giving out free stuff, I’ll open the front door!” Mammon says.
You shake your head, “he’s not real. It’s like… a myth you tell your kids.”
“Humans are stranger than I ever thought possible,” Satan says, looking at you as if you were under a microscope.
“Yeah, the whole thing is… odd to say the least,” adds Belphie. His twin nods in agreement.
“Well, Lucifer, what do you say?” You give him your best puppy dog eyes and he groans, unable to resist them.
“Whatever. But you’re in charge of it. If anything goes wrong, it’s on you,” he says, giving you a stern look. You leap out of your chair so quickly it startles Mammon and stride to the end of the table.
“Thank you!” you say, hugging the first born around the shoulders before dashing to your room to make plans.
Within the next couple days, the house is decorated beautifully. A magnificent eight foot tall tree stands in the entrance hall, fully decked with the most gorgeous ornaments you’ve ever seen. All Asmo’s doing, naturally.
Anytime one of his brothers showed up to help, he shooed them away saying that the first thing one sees when they enter the house should be perfect. And they were all liabilities.
So, there’s another— slightly less perfect— tree in the common room that everyone helped to decorate. Beelzebub had even lifted you up so you could add the star to the top.
Today’s the day to draw names for Secret Santa. And everyone’s supposed to meet in the common room, where you’re currently hanging eight stockings above the fireplace. Each is a different color, from blue to purple, plus a plain white one for you.
Just as you finish arranging the garland on the mantel, the brothers begin to trickle into the room.
“Wait, what’s with the giant socks?” Belphie asks, taking his usual spot on the sofa.
You sigh, had he been asleep during your explanation?
“Presents go in them, from Santa,” you answer.
“But you said Santa isn’t real.”
“It doesn’t matter, there will be presents I promise.” you answer as Lucifer enters, the last to arrive. After everyone’s found a seat, you grab a bowl from the table and give it a good shake.
“Okay, everyone’s name is in this bowl. We’re all gonna pick one and that’s who you get a present for. No cheating! And no telling anyone who you get. I’ll know if you do,” you say, putting on your scariest face as you look around the room at each of them. Your ‘scary’ look garners a smile from each of them.
“Oh, and the maximum amount to spend is… say, 20 Grimm?” you ask, glancing over to Mammon, who nods. Levi rolls his eyes and Satan huffs. “20 Grimm.” you repeat.
You hold the bowl out to Beel, but he pushes it back to you, “you pick first, MC.” His brothers agree with him. After all, there’s a better chance for each of them to be picked by you if you go first.
“Oh, okay.” You stick your hand in and stir the scraps of paper for a few seconds, before finally drawing one out. You open it, holding it close to your chest. And grin.
Everyone demands to know why you’re smiling like that. ‘Who’d you get?!’ being the argument of the day. But you refuse to say, and make them each pick a name.
After everyone’s drawn, most of them look disappointed. And you feel sort of bad, but… that’s the way Secret Santa works.
You watch Lucifer tuck his name into his chest pocket and pull out his phone. “Oh no,” he says, eyes blown wide.
“What is it?” Mammon asks.
“Diavolo is on his way here.”
The Demon Prince arrives less than five minutes later and there’s no hiding the Christmas tree in the foyer.
“What is this?” Diavolo asks, walking around the tree, in awe.
Lucifer brings a hand to his forehead, “it’s… a human custom. To celebrate…” sigh, “Christmas.”
Diavolo laughs, “Christmas? In the Devildom?”
He chuckles for the next few minutes, noting how well wrapped around your finger the brothers are, before finally following Lucifer to his study to talk about something important.
You find that it takes you twice as long to navigate the HOL during the holidays. This being because anytime you pass under a doorway, there’s a demon waiting for you. Somehow, it seems that every doorway in the house has mistletoe hung in it, despite you never bringing up that specific custom.
And Asmo has taken the liberty to put some in his own bedroom door, so… anytime you go to see him, you get smooched. “It’s tradition, MC.” he smiles playfully, pecking your face again, for good measure.
One night, you have all the brothers gather in Mammon’s room to watch Home Alone, parts one and two. And… swiftly begin to regret that decision when you see Satan take out a notepad and pen, likely to borrow inspiration from Kevin McCallister to use against his eldest brother.
Aside from that, however, movie night goes off without a hitch. And thus, you all meet in Mammon’s room each night to watch a different Christmas movie.
The third movie night, you find out Belphegor is freaked out by stop motion animation, so… ten minutes into Rudolph, he chooses to fall asleep.
As promised to Beel, you and he spend a lot of time in the kitchen, baking cookies. And your gingerbread houses turn out wonky, but they’re still Devilgrammable. (Thanks for the critique, Asmo.)
In his off time, Satan reads ‘A Christmas Carol,’ a book that you’d given him. Being that it was quite old, he was shocked he hadn’t stumbled upon it sooner, but enjoyed it nonetheless.
After experiencing the magic of Christmas through movies and books and songs and decorations, the day finally comes and it’s time to exchange gifts.
At the crack of dawn, everyone gathers in the common room once again. This time each of the brothers (and yourself, of course) is accompanied by some form of a gift.
IF YOU GOT…
Lucifer:
“Here you go, Lucifer!” you say, excitedly stretching your arm towards him. “I had your name!”
He takes it from you, “I know.”
“You knew?” you deflate. You’d tried so hard to keep it from him.
“Yes. All these fools wouldn’t stop complaining that I’m the only one getting a special gift from you,” he says, lips curling into a sneer.
“Yeah, because you don’t deserve MC’s attention,” Belphegor mumbles. Lucifer shoots him a look and starts to open your gift.
When he finally removes it from its wrapping, he’s puzzled. Not that he’d ever in a million years admit that he doesn’t know what it is. So he merely smiles softly, “thank you MC.”
“What the hell is it?” Mammon asks.
“Oh, it’s a mug warmer. You plug it in and set your mug on it and it keeps your coffee or tea or whatever from getting cold,” you explain happily.
Upon hearing the explanation, Lucifer is touched. He smiles warmly and sets the… thingy down. “Thank you. It will be used often.”
Mammon:
When everyone sits down to exchange gifts, Mammon is pumped! He’s ninety-percent sure that you got his name. Why the hell else would you have been asking his shirt size?
He’s practically vibrating as everyone takes their seats. And he nearly dove over Asmo to get the spot next to you on the couch.
“Oh, hey Mammon,” you laugh as Asmo huffs and sits elsewhere.
“Gimme my gift already!” he says, almost snatching the bag from your lap.
“You don’t know that this is for you!” you say, pushing your hand against his chest.
“Yeah I do. Now c’mon!”
“Mammon, you’ll be going last,” Lucifer says, to the delight of all his brothers. Except one.
“What? Why’s that? I didn’t do nothin’!” says the second born.
Lucifer doesn’t offer a reason, so you just… give Mammon a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. He pouts, but leans back against the couch, practically in your lap, and the two of you watch everyone else exchange gifts.
Finally, fucking finally, everyone is done with their stupid junk and you hold your bag out to Mammon, who looks like he’s about to tear into it with his teeth.
Instead, he pours the bag into his lap and is amazed to find a dozen shiny, golden rings looking at him, “MC. This is more than the limit,” he says, his mouth dry.
He faintly hears his brothers blathering about the special attention he gets, but fuck ‘em, he deserves it.
“Do you like them?” you ask, head tilted.
“Of course I do!” he says. Mammon starts to slide the rings onto his fingers and realizes that they aren’t real gold. He can tell from the weight of them. But regardless, he’s touched. He shows off the rings, flashing his model hands, and you laugh.
Leviathan:
Levi had been a hard one. There aren’t many things that you can get for less than 20 Grimm. Not for a nerd whose main interests are gaming and anime. Games are expensive. Anime merch is expensive.
So… yeah, you had a rough time. But now that he’s sitting across from you, you’re sure you picked the right gift. The third born winces and rubs at his wrist, the result of another gaming session.
You smile at him from across the room and after Satan finishes opening his present from Asmo, you stand and hand Levi his. His eyes widen and he reaches into the bag, pulling out a mousepad with wrist support and a download code for an indie dungeon crawler you’d caught on sale.
“Oh wow,” he says, when he sees the paper. Then he places the mousepad on his thigh, he rubs his wrist against the support to test it. “This is nice.”
“I hope it helps. Also, I’ll be in your room later to try that game.” you say with a wink.
In a very anime-esque fashion, his eyes grow large and a red blush creeps quickly up his face. “Th- thanks MC.”
Satan:
In all honesty, Satan had no idea who’d gotten his name. He hoped, like all his brothers, that he’d get a gift from you. But he realized that the odds were against him. So he decided that he’d be happy with anything, as long as Lucifer wasn’t giving it to him.
You watch Belphie ball up a bit of wrapping paper and toss it at Mammon’s head. “Hey!” shouts the Avatar of Greed.
You roll your eyes. “Hmm, I guess I’ll give mine now.” you say. Everyone’s eyes snap to you and you toss a box at Satan. “Catch, Say!”
His eyes widen comically, but he catches the box. He quirks a brow at the wrapping paper, which he’s just now noticing has cats on it. He tears the paper carefully, he fully intends to keep it. It’s just cute.
Satan opens the box and finds that his gift has multiple parts. One being a pack of several cat-themed bookmarks. The next is a stress ball, in the shape of a cat. And finally, there’s a pair of fuzzy black socks. He turns them and there are pink cat paws on the bottoms.
“Cute! I’m going to steal them~” Asmo sings.
Satan flushes, “no, they’re mine!”
“Do you like them?”
“They’re great. Thanks MC,” he answers, squeezing the stress cat, “love you.”
Half his brothers are shocked but you just laugh, “love you too.”
Asmodeus:
Asmodeus had secretly been watching you, and through his spying, he’s pretty sure you got his name. He hoped so at least. Oh! To receive a gift from his darling MC! It would be the best day ever!
And if he got a bad gift from one of his brothers, he’d scratch their eyes right out!
But enough about that.
“Hey guys!” you say to Mammon and Asmo, who look like they’re about to have a slap fight. “What’s up?”
“I’m sittin’ next to them,” Mammon says, gesturing to the middle seat on the sofa beside you.
“No, I’m the prettiest and I get to sit with them,” Asmo counters, shoving his brother backwards. To keep it from escalating further, you scoot from the end seat to the middle cushion.
“Hey, hey, guys. Please, just sit,” you plead, patting the empty spaces on either side of you. This seems to appease them both, Mammon plops down on your left and Asmo on your right.
Once everyone is situated, you ask who wants to go first.
“Ooh, you should go first, MC,” Asmo says, tracing the pattern on your pajama pants with his finger.
“Are you sure? This could be for anyone,” you say, shaking the box.
Asmo narrows his eyes, “I think it’s for me~ Give us a hint. What’s in the box?”
You think for a second, trying to come up with the most suggestive description. Then you drop your voice really low, “hmm, it’s battery-operated and pink. And it may vibrate…”
Asmo’s eyes widen and he flushes slightly, “MC! You’re so naughty! Give it!”
You laugh as he claws his way to the box and pulls out a facial cleansing brush. He cackles, throwing his head back, “that’s not what I was expecting, but thank you darling.” He pecks your cheek and turns the box over to read its instructions.
“You’re welcome, gorgeous.”
Beelzebub:
Somehow, you had a way of bringing his brothers together. He’s felt closer to his family in the past month than he has in centuries. To Beel, that was a gift in itself.
But he was really hoping you had another one for him.
His own gift, for one of his older brothers, was wrapped and sitting at his feet as he gnawed through a piece of the gingerbread house you’d made together a few nights ago. He watched everyone interacting and smiled the entire time.
He handed his present off then realized he was the last one without a gift. And you were the only person who hadn’t given one, a box still in your lap.
About the time he notices, you stand and hand him the large box, covered in a candy cane printed paper. He carefully unwraps it and pops the box open to find… a bunch of food. He gives you a look.
“These are a lot of my favorite snacks from the Human Realm. I hope you like them.” you say. Beel glances back down to the box, filled with candy bars and packets of chips and some kind of cookies. He’s ready to tear into it immediately, but since it was a gift from you… he’ll try to make it last a little while.
Belphegor:
Belphie had to admit he didn’t care about this shit. Not at all. His celestial family could get fucked. And hell, he doesn’t like most of his brothers, but… he noticed how happy it made you. And his twin for that matter, so…
He struggled to stay awake while everyone opened gifts. And about the time he dozed off, he’s lightly shaken by Beel. “It’s your turn,” he says.
Belphie starts to open his eyes, but can’t hold them open. And his sin carries him away, not caring that he has a gift to open.
“Here.” He vaguely hears you whisper, followed by a tearing noise. “Just raise up a bit.”
Suddenly, he feels something soft and warm under his head and snuggles into it. Then, something of the same texture is draped over him. “Merry Christmas, Bel.” you say, pushing his bangs out of his face.
When he wakes, an hour later, the room is empty. It’s just him asleep on the couch. He raises up slightly, squinting at the seats his brothers had been in. The one you’d been in. Then he realized that he’d fallen asleep.
“Damn it!” he says, feeling like shit. He tried so hard.
At this point, you’d been on your way to check on him (and fix his blanket if necessary). “Belphie, are you okay?” you ask, padding over to the couch.
“I missed present time,” he pouts.
You stifle a laugh, the poor demon doesn’t seem to realize that he’s using his gift. “Check under your head, hon.”
Belphie turns his head and his eyebrows scrunch up. He sits upright and produces a strangely shaped stuffed animal from where he’d just been laying. A cow, with blue splotches.
His eyes widen when you show him the strap that converts it to a pillow. And when you sing the jingle, “it’s a pillow, it’s a pet,” he laughs.
“Wait, are there more of these?” he asks seriously, holding the cow in his lap.
“Mhmm. Maybe I’ll have to get you a different one for your birthday?”
He nods and rubs his hand on the fur of the cow. “Thank you MC.”
Epilogue:
After everyone had finished opening their Secret Santa gifts, it was technically time for breakfast, but you have other plans.
You tell the boys to hold on a sec and grab Mammon’s hand, dragging him towards your room. “Woah! What’s goin’ on?!” he asks. Not that he minds being dragged to your bedroom…
But, once you get him there, you merely hand him four boxes. Then you pick up three yourself and return to the living room. And when you start to hand out the boxes, everyone starts to protest.
“Okay, so I know, I know. We were only allowed to get one present, but I’m the human, so rules don’t apply to me.” you say, handing the last box to Beel, for Belphie when he wakes up.
And everyone starts to open their surprise gifts, to find identical books. Lucifer raises a brow, “what’s this?”
Meanwhile, Asmo has already opened his, “oh MC! This is amazing!”
You’d made each of them scrapbooks of photos you loved. With descriptions and dates beside each picture. Among them are pictures you’d taken the first day you arrived and every day up till now.
It was quite the collection, filled with selfies and candids and one in particular you knew Lucifer would be mad about, but maybe he won’t notice.
“Heh, look how mad Lucifer looks on page 4,” Satan laughs. Well, there goes hoping he won’t see it.
After a few seconds, Lucifer groans, “MC, was it really appropriate to add photos from that night?”
“Yes.” He groans at your answer. “No one else is going to see it but us,” you say.
“That is not reassuring,” he mutters, flipping to the next page.
Knowing that an eighth copy of the book rests on your bedside table, with plenty of empty pages, you take out your phone and open its camera.
“Hey, merry Christmas!” you say, pointing your phone at them. Each of the demons looks up to say it back and you snap a photo. Asmo demands to see it and then asks you to take a selfie with him, for Devilgram.
And of course, everyone else wants the same. So… you take several more photos and finally settle on the arm of the couch. “Oh, I love you guys.” you say, mostly to yourself, as everyone is laughing about a picture of Mammon and Levi on page thirteen.
You spend the next hour this way, reminiscing and poring over the memories in the pages. And you’re thankful for every single one.
Thank you so much for reading! Please like and reblog! (And leave a comment if you enjoyed it!) Don't forget to check out my ko-fi and patreon, it would really help me out!
<3 Aerie
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wood-white-writer · 2 years
Text
“In the Land of the Blind” [Chapter III]
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“In the Land of the Blind, the One-Eyed Man is King”
Pairing: Silco x Doctor Toxicologist!Reader
Summary: Silco's POV & Reader's POV TW: Underage usage of medicine (nothing forced) A/N: Sorry if there are any grammatical errors of any kind. I've been hella sick these last few days so my brain is a little stuck in the clouds. I'll edit later. For now, I hope you enjoy <3
Read the AO3 version here | > Chapter IV
“I already know what those are, Silco,” Jinx gripes exasperatedly as Silco hands her one of the pills from the jar, looking every bit as suspicious as he usually does, if not a tad more. “They’re not that bad,”
“Forgive me if I like to be a little cautious about giving pills to a young child,” he adds with a twinge of sarcasm.
“I’m not that young. I’m almost ten!” She huffs and puffs out her chest a bit to appear bigger, although she still stands inconsequentially small in comparison to him. An endearing feat, but ultimately meaningless. “Besides, if you were that worried, we wouldn’t have gone to her in the first place,” she points out. “I know all about those things. What they’re doing and how I’m going to feel. They taste like shit, though,”
“Language,” he chides. “I’m starting to think you’re spending too much time around Sevika,”
The dark look in her eyes simmers hotter and hotter by the second. Jinx has never made her distaste for Sevika subtle, and though he isn’t necessarily thrilled about it, he would rather know of it than be ignorant and suffer the consequences of it if she chooses to go about her own way of dealing with his right-hand woman.
Silco considers the green and white with a sharp glare before begrudgingly handing it to the girl, followed by a glass of water. “And you’re certain it’s the same kind as you’ve used before?”
“Yep!” She replies with a prominent ‘pop’ at the end to accentuate the word. “It really helps whenever I’m feeling … You know, weird.”
The way her face morphs into a disheartened countenance does not evade his notice, and he places a hand on top of her head that vaguely resembles something he’s experienced in the past, though he can’t be certain. It’s a gesture of warmth and comfort, the kind only a parental figure can provide. He’s never given his own parents – whoever they were – much thought, since they didn’t live long enough for him to establish consisted memories of them, but he likes to believe that this is something a passable guardian would do.
She doesn’t seem to mind, anyhow, and leans into his touch like it’s an oasis in a desert. She truly is the embodiment of why he’ll keep fighting for the cause of Zaun. He’s witnessed her episodes at alarming frequency nowadays, and although he’s tried his best to remedy them, his efforts have ultimately been in vain. It’s begun to affect her both physically and mentally, with a lack of sleep and a loss in appetite to accompany. 
That’s when he grudgingly decided that he needed someone else’s help for this, if not Singed, then someone else.
“There’s nothing remotely weird about having emotions, child,” he says in a way that he hopes can convey some level of comfort. “We all struggle to keep them in check at times,”
She shoves herself slightly out of his hold. “Not you, though. You’re always calm!”
He chuckles velvety at her allegation. “I have to act the part, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have my weird moments as well on occasion,”
He revels in the fact that he manages to make her smile, if only a little. Jinx then gives the pill a quick look before popping it into her mouth. She grimaces for a few seconds, looking every bit as appalled as he imagined she would be before chucking back a good portion of water to ease the process. Once she’s finished, Silco gives her an expectant look.
“Well?” he asks.
“Well, what?”
“How are you feeling?”
“It’s only been a couple of seconds.” She points a finger at him. “It usually takes a short while before I feel anything,”
“The doctor claimed it’s supposed to have a quick effect on children,”
She scowls, but her left eyelid drops slightly. “I already told you, I’m almost ten,”
His lips quirk slightly upwards in amusement, but he can already tell that she’s becoming tired. Quick effect, indeed. “We won’t ever use this medicine unless you want to. They’re only in case you feel …” he tries to find a substitute for the W-word.
Jinx comes to his rescue with a yawn. “Weird?”
“Your word, not mine,”
She laughs briefly, but drops back against the couch, already looking prepared to sleep. “I know, but they’ll help me until I get better,”
He reaches for his overcoat by the edge of the couch and drapes it over her. “You don’t have to get better from anything. This is just temporary, and I’ll discuss more with the doctor on a later note if you’re feeling better,”
She suddenly perks up, if only a little. “You know, she doesn’t like to be called that,”
Silco tilts his head the fraction of an inch. “Doesn’t like to be called what?”
“Doctor.” She stifles another yawn as she rolls down to the side, nestled comfortably with the coat over her. “She’s always preferred being called that Toxi-thing instead,”
“Toxicologist, you mean?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. Odd name,”
“I see, she mentioned that.” He gets up to his feet and makes his way over to his desk. “Then, I’ll be sure not to repeat that mistake,”
“Good, or she’ll threaten to poison you,” Jinx murmurs before succumbing to sleep. 
---
“Holy shit, you’re kiddin’!”
“I’m not,”
“Yer’ seriously telling me that yer’ workin’ for Silco now? As in, the Eye of Zaun ‘imself, the Kingpin of the Lanes, Silco Silco?!”
“Do I need to get you a hearing aid or are you naturally just that slow?”
“Hey, don’ give me that attitude! Just lookin’ out for you, tha’s all,”
“I’d rather you didn’t,”
You take a deep drag from the cigarette before handing it over to Jarenth, who’s inhale almost threatens to finish the whole thing in one go. The two of you are seated in the back alleyway behind your shop, hidden from public view in the way that only the alleyways can provide. Jarenth is a pain in the ass, but he’s about one of the few people in your life who comes close to being a friend. His father used to handle the shipments when your old man was still around and occasionally brought his son along to teach him the reins. He was a slow learner, but he learnt. 
Time went on, and eventually Jarenth took up the mantle and has served like a thorn in your side ever since. He handles your shipments, offers some half-assed advice whenever the opportunity shows itself, and every in-between, you share a drink or a smoke together to get a break from the ruckus that otherwise plague your everyday lives. It’s a quiet – pleasant – tradition you established after the incident with the bridge all those years ago, and it’s still going on.
Jarenth flicks the burnt edges of the cigarette to the ground, but doesn’t hand it back. “So, what’s a guy like him need help with anyway? Isn’t he the most powerful man in the Undercity and all that?”
“You would think so,” you shrug noncommittal with one shoulder. “But I can’t risk enclosing that with you,”
The faux look of disappointment in his eyes is almost laughable. “C’mon, doll! We’ve been friends since we we’re kids! Surely you can make an exception for ‘yer trusted, ‘ol shipmenter,”
“That’s not even a real word,”
“Sure it is! I invented it!”
“All the more reason to take everything you say with a grain of salt,”
He blows you a raspberry, to which you roll your eyes. Then he finishes what little remains of the cigarette and stumps it under his boot before getting up from his crouching position to dust off his clothes. “In all seriousness, though, I’m surprised he’d come to you and not that other scientist-y guy he already has workin’ for him,”
You quirk an eyebrow. “He did mention he already had someone on the sides for that, but apparently, he didn’t want to go to him.” You deliberately leave out the fact that it’s not, in fact, Silco himself who doesn’t want to go to him. 
Jarenth scoffs and drags a hand through his chipped, red hair. “Yeah, not even I can blame the guy for that. The doctor’s a real piece of work, I’ll tell you that,”
“I take it you know who it is, then?” 
He grins. “’Ye hear a lot of things passin’ ‘round with the way I do,”
“Mind indulging me then about the identity of this enigmatic scientist, then?”
He taps his chin with deliberate thoughtfulness, adding a contemplative hmmm to match. He then proceeds to grin rather devilishly as to indicate that he got something sinister in mind. “Guess I can loosen my tongue for a little quid pro quo, if you get what I’m sayin’?”
You sigh. “What the fuck do you want, Jarenth?”
“Tell me a little more about your … Excursions with the big Eye, and I’ll give you the name,”
Your answer is quick and firm. 
“No.”
He pouts. “C’mon, just a little crumb?”
“Telling you that I’m working for Silco alone is enough to get you killed, you know that, right?” You point out. “Surely you value your life a little bit – however miniscule it is sometimes?”
He crosses his arms and turns his head the opposite way of the alley, much like a child would after having been chastised by their parent for doing something wrong. “Fine, be like that,”
“I’ll give you a cigarette?”
And like that, he promptly snaps his head back at you with a look of utter adoration. “Deal!”
You barely have time to pull the thing out of its container before it’s snatched out of your hold and firmly tucked between Jarenth’s lips. You pretend not to be irked by the rude gesture and speak nothing of it. Fortunately, he has a lighter of his own, and once he lights it, he takes a deep breath and looks the most content you’ve ever seen him since the last cigarette he snatched from you. God, the lungs of that man are probably so ashen that not even a Piltie X-ray machine would be able to look at them. 
Not that you’re in any position to talk.
“So, what’s the guy’s name?” you finally decide to ask as a comfortable silence settles between you.
“Oh, right.” He briefly pulls the cigarette out. “I think his name was … Syric? No, give me a second,”
The glare you aim at him could probably melt steele. “I gave you one of my priced smokes, and you’re just telling me now that you can’t even remember the damn guy’s name?”
“Hold on, I have it somewhere back here.” He points to his head where that small, nut-sized organ called a brain probably resides. “Silver? No … That’s no–” Suddenly, like a light, his expression morphs into pure euphoria. “Singed! That’s the fucker! I remember now!”
You like to believe that there are few things in life that have the uncanny ability to unnerve you, after everything you’ve witnessed and experienced. However, upon hearing that name, it echoes back and forth between the walls of your skull and leaves a metallic aftertaste on the tip of your tongue that almost makes the hairs across the nape of your neck stand up. “Singed?” The lack of change in your tone successfully conceals just how ill you’re starting to feel. “You’re sure?”
Jarenth nods a little to quickly for you to register. “Yeah. Creepy guy, no one around here really likes ‘im.” He glances curiously over at you. “Why? Know him?”
Now, you wouldn’t particularly say that you knew him, as in you shared a history with him. When you were younger, however, the man himself – thin, gaunt and disheveled as he was – made an appearance at your shop while your father was still around to do the heavy lifting. The scientist was apparently looking for an apprentice of sorts, and when he discovered your penchant for the occupation and general chemistry, he suggested that you become it.
It was something you, at the time, could’ve gladly accepted. In response to that, your father, on the other hand, ushed you away and all but threatened to throw the scientist out with all of his bones misplaced at the wrong angles. As it turned out, the scientist didn’t have a good reputation to precede him, and with time, it only went downhill from there. His name became hushed and taboo like whispers on the street, and some even used him as a Boogeyman figure to keep their children from misbehaving. 
“Don’t do anything bad or the Singed Man will come for your eyes,” or something like that.
You never saw him after that, but you can’t imagine that time’s been generous towards him. It usually never is.
“We’ve met, once,” is all you supply with before turning to head back into the shop. “See you later, Jarenth. Keep me posted on anything new,”
“Will do,” he replies with a short-lived wave of his free hand. “Try not to get killed, and give Silco a kiss on that shiny eye of his from me, will you?”
“Go fuck yourself, Jarenth,”
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justmaybee · 3 years
Text
Shocking
Summary: Lisa’s come to Albedo with a…rather interesting problem. And if Kaeya’s going to stand around, he might as well help.
A/N: Happy birthday to me 🎉 in celebration I’m getting on my Lee Kaeya agenda with something I banged out in a couple days. Enjoy~
It’s mid-afternoon on an otherwise standard work day when Albedo’s routine is interrupted; and not by any of the usual suspects.
No, this time It’s Miss Lisa, Librarian of the Knights of Favonius, who’s come to Albedo with a — peculiar problem.
Her vision seems to have—for lack of a better word—started leaking. Invisible to those without the blessing of elemental sight, but noteworthy otherwise. A fine purple mist with sparking particulates speckled throughout it. It’s a very interesting sight, but one most concerning.
Now, Lisa is nothing short of a genius. Brilliant in ways even Albedo can’t follow. So it’s no surprise that she’s already run some tests of her own.
She can still use her vision, with no visible defects in power nor ability. It just tends to — spark.
Nothing uncomfortable. Lisa compares it to ‘the scratch of a timid little kitten.’
All things considered, this isn’t a major problem. Lisa can still use her vision without adverse side effects, but they come to a mutual agreement that it’d be better to act preventatively, rather than wait for things to go wrong.
And since Lisa has done about all she can regarding the actual elemental flow of the vision, she figures it must be an issue of mechanics. Hence why she’s brought it to Albedo.
“Your expertise does surpass mine in matters of the physical realm,” Lisa says, placing the dark vision in Albedo’s palm.
For the moment she clasps his hand, the vision resting between, he can feel a dull buzzing across his palm.
“Of course, I’ll get right on it.”
A pat on the head from Lisa is—not uncommonly—her way of expressing thanks.
———
Though he’s putting aside other work to get started on Lisa’s vision, he can’t say it’s not an interesting side venture. He’s never thought to dissect a vision. It’s quite a precious item, to those lucky enough to gain them, and he must remain cautious in his testing.
The last thing he needs right now is a visitor.
That, of course, is the queue for said visitor’s entrance — suspect number one on Albedo’s list of lab intruders.
Kaeya doesn’t knock — Albedo isn’t sure if he ever has — but his cheery wave melts Albedo’s faux glare all too quickly.
This is a bit of a difficult situation though.
While Albedo has grown used to the persistent annoyance that is his partner in his lab, this is different. This isn’t his own work, it’s for another one of the knights. And while he has her vision, she’s been left in a somewhat compromising position, unable to direct her elemental power and defend herself if the situation came to it.
The chances of Mondstat being attacked are few and far between, but Albedo would rather be safe than sorry when it pertains to others in his care.
“What’s your excuse this time?” Albedo calls, turning back to his workbench. He’s too used to unexpected visitors to let it interrupt his work flow nowadays.
“Do I need one?” Kaeya asks. Albedo can hear him make his way over, unhurried, touching whatever new equipment Albedo’s set up since the last time he visited.
Albedo continues taking readings of the vision’s electric field.
“What, I’m not allowed to come visit my lonely partner while he’s cooped up in his workspace?” Albedo hears papers fluttering in the background.
He huffs. “Not when he’s in the middle of an important favor.”
That peaks Kaeya’s interest. Enough that the noise of him rustling through Albedo’s things comes to a halt.
Albedo removes the vision from within his sensors, gently checking to make sure everything is in place.
Then he tosses it.
There’s no doubt in his mind Kaeya will catch it. Which he does, cupping it snugly his palm before bringing it to his eye for inspection.
“Oh? An electro vision, hm?” Kaeya steps over to join Albedo, still eyeing the glass ball.
“What poor, gullible soul did you manage to swipe this from?” Albedo knocks his shoulder with his notebook.
“It’s Miss Lisa’s.” He explains.
He takes the next few minutes to describe the problem, what he’s found, and — most importantly — what he plans to do next.
“If you insist on making my workshop your personal lounge, the least you can do is make yourself useful.” Albedo finishes.
Kaeya laughs, placing the vision in Albedo’s open hand when he gestures for it.
He then spreads his arms in flourish.
“How do you want me?”
Albedo couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes if he tried.
He opens to a fresh page in his notebook, filling in the date and context of the situation.
“Attach it where you’d normally put your own vision,” He says, scrawling out some of his initial readings. He can hear Kaeya fidgeting with his vision to the side.
“Now, before you say it—“ Albedo says, placing his pencil down. “I know you’re a cryo user.”
It may be obvious, but seeing Kaeya’s guilty smile tells him all he needs to know
“Still, you’re a vision wielder, so you have control over elemental particles.” Albedo eyes the vision strapped to Kaeya’s hip. The difference is almost imperceivable.
“Use this vision as you might use your own. You won’t get any cryo effects, or electro—“ Albedo waves his hand. “—but the elemental energy should still siphon through the vision. Enough to give us an idea of what we’re working with.”
Kaeya nods his understanding, though he may be just itching to do something, more accurately.
Albedo takes a step forward, runs his hand over the out of place vision. Something about this is making him anxious. He can’t place why.
He glances at Kaeya’s face — patient and only slightly bored — before getting back to his notebook.
“Okay. Go ahead.” Albedo says. “Just—“
His lips press together.
“—start slow.”
For a good minute, it seems like nothing is happening. Albedo jots down his initial observations, and then he just…taps his pencil to the paper, waiting for something noteworthy.
It’s kind of strange, that it’s taking so long. Given Albedo’s predictions, it should function — at least visually — like any other vision. Unless Kaeya has gotten stage fright and forgotten how to wield a vision, it should—
Oh, there it is.
Albedo’s pencil comes to life, noting the subtle purple glow that lights the glass. It’s so faint, he almost has to question if it’s actually there.
“Okay, now a bit more—“
Albedo can say for certain that it’s glowing when it suddenly stops.
And then Kaeya lurches to the side.
Albedo’a eyes widen, legs stepping forward immediately.
“Kaeya—!”
The captain has caught himself on the work bench, leaning heavily against it. His left hand presses over the vision. Albedo can’t see his face, with his head tilted toward the ground, but the ways his shoulders heave make Albedo feel ice cold.
Gods, Albedo should’ve thought about this. Should’ve thought about all of this before bringing another person into it. He should’ve written down possibilities. Should’ve tested on himself before he even considered asking Kaeya—
His notebook is going to be a mess with how tightly he grips onto it, but he doesn’t care. It might look very strange, with Albedo hovering so close to Kaeya, should someone come in, but he doesn’t care.
Albedo can see his hand shake when he raises it to Kaeya’s face. He takes a guess where his cheek might be, brushing his hair away—
He then smacks Kaeya with his notebook again. Hard.
“This isn’t a joke, Kaeya.”
Albedo steps — not stomps — back to his earlier spot. Bending over to grab the pencil he’d dropped in his haste.
Kaeya slowly straightens out, wiping a hand over his face to erase the last hints of a smile. A thin, tight-lipped smile that one hundred percent means he was holding back laughter.
“N-not a joke.”
Albedo scoffs. “Not at all, jokes are supposed to be funny.”
But Kaeya…doesn’t snap back, not like he usually would when joking around. He just stands quietly, tapping a foot on the floor. His hand still grips tightly to the borrowed vision.
Fine, Albedo will bite.
“Okay, you’re not joking,” Albedo mutters, placing his things back on the table. He steps over to stand in front of Kaeya, arms crossed.
“Enlighten me then.”
Kaeya’s free hand moves to scratch at his neck, a hesitant gesture. “It, ah, just—kind of—you know…”
Albedo is so caught up in the confusing way Kaeya acts, he doesn’t prepare himself for the pinch that lands on his hip.
His surprised laugh comes out muffled, arms immediately moving to push at Kaeya’s hand. He doesn’t continue—though Albedo can never be sure with Kaeya, so he keeps ahold of his hand anyways.
“Kaeya, what—?”
His looks up at Kaeya and gets met with an awfully wry expression.
Wait, is he serious?
“So…you mean to say that the vision—“
Albedo’s eyes travel down subconsciously.
The vision rests on Kaeya’s front—top left of his pelvis, very close to his hip—and Albedo knows how ticklish he is there.
Albedo can’t help it.
He laughs.
He’s already in close quarters with Kaeya, so the tilt of his head onto the captain’s chest comes all too naturally. The arms around his back finishing the picture.
“Glad to see this is so entertaining for you, dear.”
Kaeya’s hand strokes over his back in a familiar fashion. And, after that scare — Albedo can’t say it’s entirely unwanted.
Once Albedo can stop laughing at the thought of it, he looks up at Kaeya. Something just shy of mischief in his eyes.
“Let’s continue then.”
Kaeya sighs, dropping his forehead to rest against Albedo’s. He can see the smile already pulling at Kaeya’s lips
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
———
“So from what I’ve gathered—“
It’s a tad redundant to go over everything when Kaeya’s been right here to experience it all, but the recap helps Albedo get back into the swing of things. Now they know their main issue, why it had little effect on Lisa, and…a greater effect on Kaeya.
“…which—apparently—feels a bit ticklish.” Albedo concludes.
“I’d be more than happy for you to see for yourself.” Kaeya offers, head in his hand as he leans on the table beside Albedo. Albedo only smiles in response.
He’s quick to run over the procedure again. He doesn’t want to waste too much more time. Though it is a little funny to see how Kaeya squirms at certain details.
They take up the same positions as before, Albedo leaving his notebook open on the workbench, a pencil poised for anything interesting. Kaeya stands across him, foot tapping absentmindedly on the floor.
Okay, once more.
“Low power please.”
And oh, Albedo can see it so clearly now. The way Kaeya’s muscles tense. The way his shoulders lock up and his core tightens. He stands taller, straighter, stiffening like it’ll block out the feeling. Like it’ll stop the inevitable.
Albedo wipes his smile away discreetly.
“Okay, now if you could increase the power…please.”
Albedo can see when that happens too. When Kaeya starts gritting this teeth. Tapping his fingers. When the foot he’s using to tap starts jerking off the floor, like he could use it to dislodge the building feeling on his hip.
“You’re doing amazing, Kaeya.” Something in Albedo feels the need to reassure the twitchy captain. “Please continue. I just want to get a better idea of what you’re feeling right now.”
Kaeya’s inability to engage in witty banter isn’t lost on Albedo, but that’s why he’s attempting to keep the teasing to a minimum. Attempting.
“This is a new sensation I’m sure, but how would you say it compares to when—for example—I’m tickling you.”
Kaeya’s head turns suddenly, facing away from Albedo. He can hear a cough-like sound exit Kaeya’s throat. He chooses not to comment.
“Well…” Kaeya begins, voice wavering. “It’s—ah—it’s similar to w-when you use your nails v-very lightly…”
Albedo steps away from his open journal, lingering for a moment, before moving to step around Kaeya. Head tilted down towards the tabletop, he probably doesn’t notice Albedo’s sudden proximity. He leans on the counter opposite his boyfriend.
“That bad already?”
He sees the flash of one wide blue eye before Kaeya’s falling forward again; Albedo feels no fear this time. He catches himself on the counter, leaning against it with all his weight. Turning away from Albedo once more. That does nothing to stop the wave of bubbly giggles that burst free, before getting stubbornly pushed back down.
Albedo doesn’t have to hide his smile when Kaeya so staunchly refuses to look at him.
“So it’s more of a teasing touch,” Albedo continues. “Would that be correct? When I’m preparing you for what’s in store, but I haven’t started squeezing your hips yet?”
Kaeya shudders, breathes another airy laugh. He nods repetitively into his own arms, now crossed over one another on the counter.
“Interesting. Another level up, please.”
Albedo catches the end of a clipped-off whine before it’s lost to laughter. There goes Kaeya’s apparent limit.
“Ack, wahahait! Alb-ehe!-Albedoho!”
“I’m not doing anything, dear.” The ironic honesty of it all has Albedo biting back a laugh of his own. Not that Kaeya can see, of course.
Kaeya curls more into his arms, though it does nothing to muffle the sweet giggles that’ve finally made their way out. “I don’t thihink—mph—I dohon’t thihink I can k-keep this uhuhuhup!”
“Just a bit longer, Sir Kaeya. I’m sure you can do it.”
A groan cuts through Kaeya’s laughter. Albedo takes his hand.
To be completely honest, there’s little more Albedo can gather from this particular ‘experiment.’ He’s got enough information to make a relatively sound hypothesis. But maybe—
“Okay, just—one more level up.” Albedo requests. “The finale, if you will.”
Kaeya’s laughter takes on a whining quality. It reminds Albedo of when they’re doing this on their own time. When he has his hands hovering over Kaeya’s thighs, maybe the pockets of his hips. When he’s been tickled to a squirming, squealing mess — and then he’s reminded of just how much worse it can get.
Albedo squeezes his hand.
He feels a returned squeeze. Kaeya breathes; and then he drops.
His laughter—immediately—rises to a fever pitch. All bubbling and frantic, interrupted by an influx of desperate, strung out squeals. He’s lost his footing completely, a semi-crouch on the floor as his instincts kick in; making him pull his leg in, shake his hips, anything to try and displace the unbearable feeling.
His words come out rushed, a plea shrouded in hysterical laughter.
“Plehehease! NohoHOHOHO! I cahahan’t! A-Albehedo, I cahaHAHAHAN’T!”
Albedo blinks away his wide-eyed stare, crouching down to meet Kaeya on the floor. He strokes a hand through his hair, speaking loud enough for him to hear.
“Okay, okay. You’re done. You can stop.”
Even with the go ahead, it takes Kaeya several minutes to calm down.
The sporadic twitching of his legs, of his hips dies down. He curls into Albedo’s side to smother the last of his fading laughter. And then it’s just the two of them, cuddled up on Albedo’s lab floor.
What an afternoon.
“Are you alright?” Albedo asks, speaking into Kaeya’s bicep. His hand trails through the mess of blue strands, tossed around on Kaeya’s head.
“Peachy,” Kaeya breathes.
That kind of smart answer is just asking for a jab to the ribs—Albedo is certainly itching to get his turn, after today’s events. But considering the slight rasp to Kaeya voice, Albedo figures he can get away with it for now.
“I’m honestly surprised. I don’t know how you managed to keep going for as long as you did.”
Kaeya laughs. It sounds so quiet now. “What can I say? My stamina is the stuff of legends.”
Albedo hums, hand slowing to a stop.
“Enough for a second trial?”
Albedo can feel the way Kaeya jolts beside him; he has to laugh.
“Not right now,” Albedo cautions. He turns his face, leaning to rest against Kaeya’s arm. “I was thinking when we get home.”
Albedo’s hand slips from Kaeya’s hair, lands gently around his hip. He feels Kaeya shy away from the touch instinctually, pressing more firmly against his side.
“I’ve never seen you so high strung from just tickling your hips—“ Albedo speaks quietly, though it’s only the two of them in the lab. “—and it wasn’t even me.”
Albedo isn’t one for jealousy. How could he be? With a partner so prone to casual flirting? But he must admit, he does feel…some type of way, despite how ridiculous it seems.
Kaeya is silent. For such a period that Albedo finds himself looking up to catch his eye. He finds him, for one second, with a dreamy, far-off look in his eye. Flush seemingly deeper than when he was at the mercy of the vision.
He rights himself quickly. Licks his lips. Clears his throat. Leaning over, he speaks softly into Albedo’s hair.
“That could…be arranged.”
95 notes · View notes
erimeows · 3 years
Text
Intervention, Baby
Unlike many of his Autobot counterparts, Prowl adored organics- especially the ones on earth, whether that be the plants, animals, or humans.
His favorite, though? You. You by far. 
After arriving on earth, Prowl had become obsessed with people watching, usually taking long strolls around the city or going to public parks to watch how humans lived their daily lives. Something about the human species by itself was captivating, but when he’d seen you for the first time, (e/c) eyes and (h/l) (h/c) hair shining under the bright sun as you walked into the local flower shop, he had been completely and utterly enthralled. He’d known that he was supposed to avoid interactions with humans that weren’t necessary according to Prime, but he hadn’t been able to help himself that day. So, he’d gone into the flower shop and sparked a conversation with you to figure out exactly what it was that had him so interested; what it was about you that was so different than the other humans he watched.
You had just moved to Detroit from your hometown for a new job, which explained why he hadn’t seen you before that, and as he’d talked to you that day, he became more and more intrigued. You’d started renting a house nearby, with your very own flower garden, which you showed him that day. He hadn’t been able to tell you much at the time about Cybertron for security reasons, but what he did tell you about himself, you listened to intently. You were a great listener, with kind eyes and a bright smile that made his spark stop at times.
Prowl had been a cautious bot. Whatever caution he had maintained since being on earth had flown out the window with you, though, as he fell quickly, often sneaking away from the Autobots to spend time with you at your house or visit you at your job. A strong friendship was quickly formed, and with how much he was gone, his teammates quickly became suspicious.
It started with questions, the others asking where he was all the time and why he was suddenly so interested in stopping by flower and gardening shops whenever they were out. Naturally, Optimus was the first to figure it out, asking if he’d met someone and then leaving the subject alone when Prowl avoided the subject. However, Bumblebee was the next to catch on, and he had no sense of personal boundaries, so he dragged Bulkhead along to follow him to your house. While it wasn’t the best first impression, that was how you met Bumblebee and Bulkhead, and eventually Optimus and Ratchet as well- since the secret was out in the open now and no one seemed to disapprove of you, Prowl had started bringing you around the Autobot base.
The rest was history, but the more Prowl developed his relationship with you, the more fearful he became for the future. He was a wise and emotionally mature bot, he figured, but he didn’t know how to handle his feelings for you. He had fallen in love. He was cybertronian, you were human, and it wouldn’t be fair to you to initiate anything- not that he thought you returned the feelings anyways. No, you were too pure and sweet, kind and beautiful, fragile and soft. He feared hurting you most of the time. He feared falling deeper. He feared starting something he couldn’t finish and leaving you hurt in the end, but each day he spent with you only made it worse.
Why did he love you? Why couldn’t he have fallen for another Autobot? Why a human? The thoughts plagued his processor constantly, but when you reached over to grab one of his digits and pull him along to show him something in your garden or smiled up at him, he couldn’t help it. You were so soft and delicate, but you still treated him like you would anyone else. You weren’t scared of him, you always offered a listening ear when he needed it, and you opened up to him in return.
Warm, bright, radiant- Prowl felt like you were all of the things that he wasn’t, and as he returned to base and walked into the main room, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Spending time with you seemed exhausting nowadays. He always left with a troubled processor and an uneasy feeling. Was it right to keep seeing you when he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere? Would his unresolved feelings get in the way of your friendship? What was he to do at this point? As much as he’d tried to simply make the feelings go away, he couldn’t; couldn’t develop an interest in anyone else, couldn’t think of anything he didn’t like about you to kill his attraction, couldn’t will it away. Nothing worked, so he drowned himself in it, and while he would have loved to sulk for a little bit, his attention was captured by his team.
He’d walked into... Something, though he wasn’t quite sure what that something was yet. His entire team was crowded onto the living room couch, silent, staring up at him. Seeing them all in one room at the same time was rare when they weren’t sharing energon or working against the Decepticons, but seeing them all in one room and quiet? Something was wrong. 
“Where did you just come from, Prowl?” Bumblebee, who was sitting in the middle of the couch with Bulkhead to his right, crossed his arms as he asked the oddly accusatory question and leaned forward.
“(y/n)’s, why?” Prowl answered. He was so uneasy that he found himself shifting his weight from one pede to the other and averting his gaze. While he wasn’t normally avoidant like that, when it came to you, he couldn’t help how nervous he got.
“Don’t worry about it, but-” Bulkhead started, letting out a nervous chuckle.
The atmosphere was tense and awkward. Optimus Prime, next to Bulkhead on the edge of the couch, wouldn’t even look at him. Meanwhile, Ratchet, who was on the other side of Bumblebee, appeared to be growing increasingly agitated with each second that passed. 
“What is the meaning of this?” Prowl finally demanded, which made Bumblebee stand up and point right at him with a huge grin.
“Intervention, baby!” The yellow bot cheered.
“Intervention? I’m not abusing substances if that’s what you’re-”
“No, no, that’s not what we’re getting at, you bucket of bolts!” Ratchet groaned and face-palmed. “We’re here to talk about you and (y/n)!”
There were two ways this could go, and Prowl wasn’t sure which one he hated more.
One, his team could be concerned about him spending so much time with a human who had nothing to do with their cause. It was a valid concern and he knew it- spending so much time with you put you in at risk of getting involved with the Decepticons like Sari, and unlike Sari, you had no key or Cyber-organic powers to protect you. You were simply human, and it wasn’t fair to you to put you in danger the way he was. But he was selfish.
Two, his team could be concerned about his feelings for you. Whether for the aforementioned reasons or because they had to watch the two of you interact all the time, he wasn’t sure, but it would make sense. He certainly hadn’t expected them to call an intervention over either issue, though, so all he could do was stand there.
They were staring at him. 
It was... Embarrassing, to say the least.
“I don’t see why this would be considered even remotely appropriate- And Optimus, Ratchet,” Prowl glared at the two older bots, knowing damn well that they knew better than to do this to him. “I expect it from these two, but you? I thought you were more mature than this, but I see I was mistaken.”
“Don’t come at us with your maturity spiel when you can’t even mech up enough to tell (y/n) your true feelings,” Ratchet spat.
“Ratchet, you could have phrased that with a bit more tact, but I do believe you are correct,” Optimus agreed with a small nod and offered a smile, glancing at Ratchet and then at Prowl. “While we don’t have the right to dictate what you do, Prowl, it’s become obvious to everybot what’s going on, and... We all support you. You should be honest with (y/n) and tell her the truth. Love is something that should be appreciated and cherished, not hidden away.”
“Yeah! Plus, it hurts to watch you two dance around each other when it’s so obvious what’s going on,” Bumblebee argued. “She likes you back-”
“No, she doesn’t, and even if she did, how would this work?” Prowl raised his voice without meaning to, and the moment he heard how loud his volume was, he paused to take a deep breath and reflect. His team had good intentions, they wanted him to be happy and enjoy a relationship for once, but he was so scared. Why couldn’t they leave him alone? With a sigh, he spoke again, not daring to look at any of his friends. “I’m Cybertronian and she’s organic, and we could have to go back to Cybertron any day now- or, even worse, the Decepticons could kill us. Would it not be selfish of me to confess my feelings for her, start a relationship, and then leave or die? Assuming that she wants anything to do with me, that is.”
“Listen, I get where you’re coming from, but you’ve heard the saying here on earth that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, haven’t you? (y/n) would be more upset if you left or died without telling her the truth than she would be if you told her beforehand. No matter what happens in the end, at least she’d have some closure that way, because she does love you too,” Bulkhead insisted.
“No, she doesn’t,” Prowl mumbled, not having any other defense. Did he think you loved him like that? No, but did he have definite proof that you didn’t? Also no, so he was left without a solid defense, but too stubborn to concede to his friends’ (valid) points. “You’re wrong.”
“Yeah she does, dude, you’re just wrong,” Bumblebee walked over to him and put a servo on his shoulder, meeting his optics, uncharacteristically intense- borderline angry. “How can you even know if you haven’t talked to her about it?”
“How can you know?” Prowl defended and jabbed a digit into the younger bot’s chest plate. The two continued to stare each other down for a few moments before Bee finally sighed and looked away.
“Because I’ve talked to her about it.”
“...Oh. I see,” The black and gold bot took a step back and fidgeted with his servos. He had never expected for you to confide in Bumblebee about such a matter, but then again... Aside from Prowl himself, Bumblebee was your best friend and always had been since he’d started bringing you around. The two of you were similar; innocent, kindred souls with similar interests. Unlike Prowl, the yellow bot brought out your more energetic, fun side, making you laugh constantly, but... He hadn’t been aware of the fact that Bumblebee was a confidant for you, too. Part of him was jealous, but he tried to shove that down with a tense swallow. “I’m going to take my leave, then.”
“That’s what I thought,” The smaller bot smirked, earning a glare from Prowl in return.
“Get bent.”
~
That entire night and the day after were spent locked in his room reflecting upon everything; his feelings, you, the advice that his teammates had given him during their little “intervention”, the potential consequences of what he was about to do.
Whether he wanted to or not, he knew that he needed to confess. What if one of you died without ever saying anything? What if he went back to Cybertron without ever having the chance to tell you the truth and regretted it? What if you had to leave Detroit someday? It was too big of a problem to leave unresolved given how chaotic and unpredictable your lives were, even if he was scared of what could happen. Plus, half the battle was you loving him back, and if Bumblebee told the truth the day prior, you already did.
So, Prowl sat on your roof. Waiting. You were outside for whatever reason despite it being midnight on a Tuesday in human time, laying in your backyard and admiring your flowers. Since it was a warm fall, they were growing quite well, your pumpkin crop in particular thriving. He’d been watching you for a while; (s/c) skin glowing as the moonlight shone upon your body, (f/c) shorts and a black sleepshirt hugging your frame. Your (e/c) eyes were currently trained on your rosebush, though he was sure you had noticed his presence- even though he wasn’t visible behind your chimney, you had an amazing knack for being able to feel when he was there, visible or not. 
“(y/n)?” The Autobot finally spoke, emerging from his hiding place and jumping down into your backyard to stand next to where you lay. 
You sat up to look at him with a tired smile. It was late and you had work tomorrow... Something must’ve been on your mind, too. Perhaps the two of you were in sync with your recent concerns.
“Hey, Prowl, you’re up late. Why don’t you lay with me?” Unable to say no to you, Prowl did just that, joining you on the grass and laying with his back on the ground. The stars that littered the sky were fogged up by the city lights, but while he normally would’ve been agitated by it, you were better to stare at, so he didn’t mind too much. “You sat on my roof for a while and didn’t even talk to me. What’s keeping you?”
“Ah, it’s nothing, I just-” The ninjabot started, close to denying everything flat out and ignoring the subject of his feelings yet again before realizing that’s what the problem was. He couldn’t open up to you and it was making everything convoluted, so with a sharp breath, he gathered all of his willpower and spoke to you again. “No, you know what? I’m tired of this.”
“What?” You looked shocked at the sound of his agitated tone, eyebrows furrowing together as you sat up and glanced at him, making him sit up as well. Your (e/c) eyes burned into his ocean optics in that moment, and a brief silence washed over the two of you before he spoke again.
“I’m tired of us hiding from each other,” Unable to help himself, Prowl leaned closer to you and reached over to rest a servo on one of your hands. “Be honest, what are your feelings towards me?”
You stopped, your breath visibly catching in your throat. The black and gold bot could immediately tell you were nervous, terrible at hiding your negative emotions like you had been since he’d met you, but he let you have as much time as you needed.
“Prowl, it’s a bit sudden for you to ask something like that out of nowhere. You know we’re friends-” You started, but when you looked closer at his face, you gave him a defeated sigh that made him realize; you knew he knew. “Who told you?”
“So it’s true,” He stated, holding your hand tightly and giving a soft frown. Your face was painted with the same fear and anxiety that he’d felt over loving you for so long now. 
Part of him was happy that you loved him back. The other part almost wished you didn’t, wished you could live your life happy and blissfully unaware to avoid the risk of getting your heart broken.
“I’m sorry,” You apologized.
“What do you have to be sorry for, sweetspark?” Prowl asked, tone gentle as he used his spare hand to caress your cheek and leaned in to rest his helm against yours. “I’d be a fool not to reciprocate, but I want to hear it for myself before I do anything. Tell me how you feel.”
“I’m in love with you, Prowl,” You admitted. A couple of tears welled up in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks, those of which Prowl wiped away with his thumb. “I’ve been captivated since the moment I saw you, and I never planned on telling you. I’m afraid of you getting attached to me and not being able to handle it if we ever have to separate because I’m sure there will be a day when you have to go back to your home planet. You can’t stay forever, and I can’t go with you.”
“I feel the same way... I love you too, (y/n)- so much that I don’t think you understand. I held off because I fear having to leave you someday, but I realized that we should take advantage of what time we have left and try our best to make this work,” In between his words, you let out what he assumed was a sigh of relief, making him do the same. Prowl quickly felt the weight of his anxieties leaving his chest and shoulders. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your plump, warm lips, then withdrew to press a few more against your cheeks and forehead. You giggled; a sound he would listen to for the rest of his life if he could. “I think we’ll be alright in the end.”
“I...” You grinned and leaned into him with another laugh. “I think so, too. But who told you?”
“That’s... Quite the story. You see, yesterday afternoon, I got back to the base after visiting you and...”
Prowl smiled as well as he started his story. Things were complicated, and he knew this was risky, but you wrapping an arm around one of his and gripping his hand made him realize just how worth it you were. 
Maybe that intervention hadn’t been too bad of an idea after all.
243 notes · View notes
unohanadaydreams · 3 years
Note
i needed you. i needed you, and you weren't here! so where the HELL were you?! " + Aizen Sousuke
my brain is saying angst lately so <3 This doesn't follow the exact same dialogue because I don't think Aizen would ever say that full out. But y'know.
Features: ANGST. one man ruining all his relationships for one bet that went to absolute shit.
"I Needed You" + Sosuke Aizen
Captain Kyoraku leaves you the moment the necessary bindings are undone. As though he's done something you ordered, saying nothing when you thank him. His lone eye can’t meet yours, smile stuck rather than meant.
You wonder how deeply it cuts the man bound before you, to see such humble actions from the captain who is closer to divinity than he ever will be. The smooth expression Aizen wears gives nothing but the features he can not help but show. If he could, you’re sure he would wipe his face clean, to remain an inhuman mystery, more than he already is.
The real mystery is why you've allowed yourself to do this. To go through the steps of requesting a meeting with Captain Kyoraku and every step after being a deliberate move toward this moment.
At no point did you feel how you do now, grasping your own stomach to keep the world from spinning you sick.
"You look horrible," you say, swallowing the sting in your throat. "You've sat there the entire time?"
Not even a smirk or smug widening of the eyes greets you. And your stomach flips, hopeful.
"And I will sit here until they get careless," he says. "Or more likely, when they have need of me."
"Have you been eating, at least?"
Aizen's face flashes, but the ripples calm before you can understand what caused the disturbance in the first place. "No."
"But...how? Your spiritual pressure..."
"Is suppressed. They wouldn't allow anyone lesser to do what the good Captain just did for you, day in and day out."
Your frown pointed to your sandals. How poor had your spiritual pressure been, as a child? And still...you'd hungered. Surely, he still did too.
"I'm sorry," you say, eyes desperately trying to pull SOMETHING from him, scrambling against the stone of his expression. "That isn't right."
"Nothing in Soul Society is right," he sighed. "And it never will be."
'Because I am down here' went unsaid, but rang off the reishi-supressing walls loud enough to be heard.
"I wish..."
Your tongue stuck to the roof of your dry mouth and you thought better of going on with that line of thought.
Changing your approach, you try again, "I miss you. Everyday passes so fast without you."
If you'd done this before the Quincy war, you'd chew your words with more bite. But that war had held you underwater, starving of you breath until your last, and every day since had been a failing battle to dry yourself off.
Everything exhausted you. And you missed the man who tried so hard to be God. Some days you thought his failure was best. Others, you cried for him, wanting so much for him to be up there. To have something, even if you couldn’t.
"Perhaps the Gotei 13 will grow desperate and attempt to rehabilitate me. Would you enjoy that?"
Aizen did smirk then, leaning back the small amount he was able to in a play at repose.
"No," you say with a cracked voice. "I don't want you to be a Captain again. I just want you."
He leaned harder, smiled wider, and you bit your cheeks until the pressure felt unbearable. Until you were sure your teeth would pop through.
"Somehow, I doubt that."
Releasing the tension in your jaw, the smooth inside of your cheeks, you tasted metal and hissed smoke, "Oh, don't. Do not do that."
"Doubt? I am a cautious man," Aizen said. "As you should know."
You felt as punished--as thoroughly imprisoned--as he looked. The tears you had been holding off gathered in your eyes, spilling over as your shoulders shook.
"Stop acting like this."
His lips thinned as you brushed tears from your face. "My apologies. You can imagine how few guests I have nowadays. I've forgotten my manners, haven't I."
All at once, the horrible maelstrom of feelings you'd been hugging to your chest since he betrayed the Seireitei broke free in one wet gasp of air.
"You're not being fair! You expected me to...to stand by the man I fell in love with as he turns into someone I can't even touch? To watch everything burn? How could I? What was I supposed to do?"
"Fair," Aizen said in a flat tone, his smirk making it unkind. "We're in the Seireitei. Of course nothing is fair--not even you."
You weren't able to stop crying, the tears soaking the sleeve that covered your eyes, "I still loved you. I still love you now."
The silence that answers is ugly with your own sobs. You think he's done talking. That he's going to leave you there, holding all of your pain and his.
You hear Aizen sigh, unrefined and tired, "You were still needed."
“By who,” you said. If you could only shake at him. Claw at his shoulders until he spit it out. “Who needed me?”
“…We needed you,” Aizen barely managed to shrug, solemn face not matching his tone. “For the war.”
The war.
Of course nothing you hoped for would happen.
What a bastard.
You interrupt your own crying with a bark of laughter that shudders back into a sob as you inhale.
He couldn't tell the simplest truth. That he needed you. That it was him who needed you the same way you needed him. That he was a man who felt angry, betrayed, and abandoned--just like you did.
Letting your arm fall to your side, you gave him one last once over. One last moment. One last chance.
But peeled fruit rots if you don't eat away at it. And the man in front of you was a dark pit, the flesh long gone.
"Why cant you just say it," you pleaded, wanting very much for these not to be the last words you spoke to him. "That you wanted me to go to Hueco Mundo, because you love me."
Aizen said nothing. Spared you no witty rebuttal. Just sat, face pale and blank, on his consolation throne. Buried too low to be God and sat too high to be yours, to be Sosuke Aizen, the man you fell in love with.
You left with Captain Kyoraku, eyes still desperately searching for something--anything--to break through, until you forced yourself up the stairs. Into the sun.
Back to the world that drove good men into broken gods.
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