#because if I do it now I think the emotional whiplash might actually break my neck

[pippastrelle]

Bulletpoint liveblog of C3E91 let's go!

Second half: Crown Keepers

Oh, is this where the Crownkeepers come in? I heard that. Haha I always wonder what it's like at the studio hiding the fact that, like, Robbie is there.

AABRIA! God, I want to know how her hair and makeup is done. It's so different and so cool nearly every time I see her. She's got such style.

Moment to appreciate the music they play during the art reel at the end of the break.

CROWNKEEPERSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! I actually never fully watched Kymal so the bunny woman was a surprise XD

The collaborativeness is nice, asking Anjali about her sister.

ahahaha god this platform. DON'T WHIPLASH MY EMOTIONS LIKE THIS! I'M CRYING OVER ORYM AND ALL!

….Me not having watched Kymal might confuse me for the next two hours.

Black lipstick will never not get me. Aimee.

Is Dorian going to reply to Orym's message??????

Good on Matt for starting off.

(Pleeeeease may they say this woman's name). Her character's Morrighan. Whoa, a champion of the Matron of Ravens.

The Crownkeepers have been having a real swell time.

(Fy'ra Rai has always been a great name to say). So, sent by the Wildmother to protect them.

Aww, Dorian feeling some consequences of his avoidance.

From an above-table perspective, I'm surprised they're all feeling so lost? I wonder if it was planned and if Aabria's going to suddenly give them a direction, or if they're reticent to set too much in stone?

OPAL'S BETRAYER GOD CHAMPION DESIGN IS SO SICK; I LOVE IT!

Sleep as an exhausting void… Creepy.

"Can I hear him?" "Make a wisdom save." Terrifying. "Shouting at you while running backwards." What a description.

I do love Opal, too. Such a situation but still trying to retain that image of her.

"We gotta get these chuckles out not." Whimper in terrified player.

I love Aabria's GM-ing in a lot of other things (ACOFAF is S-tier), but I think this highlights why I found EXU Prime harder to get into. The Crownkeepers tend to lack a motivating goal from the off-set, making it a bit hard for me to figure what they're trying to do and why.

Still, starting off with PVP might be the wakeup!

HA! Matt Mercer doing the ad read. Love it.

Spider Queen is intimidating and poor, poor Opal.

Holy shit, Opal's raising into the air and burning the forest. Hahaha make Aimee choose which friend to destroy. Awwww forcing her into PvP!

Goddddddd Aabria is the Betrayer God here.

Black eyessssssss. Magic second set of arms.

God, imagine being Aimee rn.

27 on initiative??????

THE DARIAX ROLLS RETURN!

At least Opal can communicate her panic.

HASTE ON OPAL???? HA! VENMO TO HASTE THE ENEMY!

The Dariax rolls balance Morrighan's.

Aw, sweet with Morrighan and Opal whispering telepathically.

Amazing image of stone cold Opal in contrast.

I like how Matt and Aabria pop in with lessons for the others. Nice to see players propping each other up.

CRYSTAL RAPIER? NICE!

"She's just a little guy."

Absolutely fair, seeing weird shit for your Betrayer God Champion friend and just wanting to knock her the fuck out.

Kind of Anjali to tally up the numbers as they roll.

Eeeeeek, ripping a rapier down her thigh.

OPAL DOESN'T TAKE THE DAMAGE????? IS THAT A REACTION OR????

TED!

Hahaha "if Opal did crossfit".

(I googled it. Morrighan is played Erica.)

Oh christ Ted's helping. I wonder how much Morrighan knows about Ted.

"NONONO STOP!" as verbal component for Shield is fantastic.

I don't trust that this is Ted?? Does Ted know Opal's fucked right now??

"Why's the first thing you do drawing blood?" Well, because it's D&D.

Haste lets you go get a hotdog from Arby's. Vax knew this well.

Aabria's English accent is so American-version-of-English but I like how it sounds anyway.

Let the ashhole return, cowards!

Yeah, Robbie, this is a weird situation. Dorian's just choking on his flute. Yeah, trying to restrain Opal is a good plan. NO! NAT 20 minus 1 + 4 plus 13. Aimee/Opal, go! Get! It!

Nice, Aabria, failing forward is a lesson we can all incorporate.

NAT ONE PLUS 13?? ROBBIE! Cannot catch a break.

T_T Fy'ra being betrayyyyyed again. Ooh, very very cool from Anjali calling for a flashback.

(We still never got the response to Orym. Has that happened yet or it that going to be the bookend? I'm curious what this is going to mean for the actual campaign. It's a really fun idea to bring in another GM for a section. Sure, more Actual PlayTM than homegame but Matt at least gets to play.)

Haha Anjali welcome to the DM club! I know about this from the Ginny Di video. Anjali DMed an official lego game.

Can they free Opal?

Ohhh. The Wildmother wants this? Am I misunderstanding? Shit.

They can't separate Opal from the crown.

Love how different people set their dice.

Never take advice from GM Aabria :P

Holy shit these guys roll high.

I hardly ever see people take the dodge action.

I do like Opal a lot.

So the Spider Queen is just trying to full take over Opal. I wonder if Teven or the other Betrayer God Champion had this sort of thing happen.

GO AWAY FOREVER??? THEIR MOTHER DID THIS TO OPAL AND TED?? Evalux? A splinter group? I'M SO CONFUSED AND INTRIGUED! THE BEACON'S INVOLVED??? How tf did they get it in Byroden? So there's a splinter of Luxon followers who split themselves in one life instead? God, I hope the main cast get to watch this.

…..And Opal has no memory of it. Will we ever get this information?

Erica continues to roll like a god.

The turns have felt both long and fast. I've still got, like, an hour and a half.

I love how Matt describes/contextualises things, even as a player.

HA! CYRUS IS HERE?!

ROLL PERFORMANCE FOR HANDJOB

A 7!!!!!

Bless is good. Dariax panicking is great.

XD God initiative takes a long time in a big group.

THE ROLLS! THE DARIAX ROLLS!

Ah! Dariax is a bard! Yeah! So cuuuute for the Double Ds. "THE PERFORMING ARTS IS WORTH IT!"

So. All of them are blind in the darkness. Awesome, awesome move, Aimee.

Hahhahahahaha right. Warlock. No spell slots.

XD It's such a long game. No loo breaks.

SQUIRREL SPIDER FTW

Gotta love Cyrus. "NO DON'T SHOOT!" The himbo persists.

….Matt, what did you get for the WIS save?

PALADIN COMES IN FOR THE SAVE!

Hahahaha "that could can see". Okay. Blind mistystep? …..I'm sure 8 will get it.

Aww, attacking your friend's going to leave a bad taste in your mouth. Lay on Hands is good.

I appreciate Aabria's helpfulness as a GM.

Fy'ra good teammate.

Opal, again, is amazing. I love how she tackles such complex things in her very Her way. Preserves drama and humour in her self-absorbtion.

I wonder how Opal washes her hair under that crown?

Well, some allowance for fighting when Opal attacked them? Obvs harder emotionally than logically.

Aww everyone got to see the memory of Opal and Morrighan bonding.

HA! LOVE FY'RA BEING COMMANDER!

Dorian is forever clanking with all the instruments he carries. T_T 9 to dispel fails. Good plan though. Until back into the darkness he goes.

I like the idea of going back to the Crownkeepers, especially as a perspective on Opal and Dorian, but I'm two hours into this section and still don't quite get the full significance of it. Which is a shame. I still have faith, but I think this encounter would be more enjoyable if I understood better why we were seeing it in the Bell's Hells campaign.

I've always respected Opal/Aimee going in on being the asshole sister. Getting to see that perspective.

The gem flashbacks are cool.

"We can both be coins." "And we're richer for it!" Amazing. Great pun. Love Fy'ra. Love Ted coaching Opal.

Max offering blind Dariax up on a plate. Respect.

I LOVE MATT AS DARIAX! SO FUNNY!

Con sorcerer is smart.

Aabria has no luck against Dariax.

I'm sure that 9 WIS will help perception.

BARDIC COMES IN CLUTCH!

DIMENSION DOOR IS A BONUS ACTION?!

I. Love. Opal. Aimee plays her and her struggles and her relationships with everyone so well and nuanced. Dariax is a well-done character too. Real even behind the humour.

I leapt too, Aimee. Holy shit what the fuck, Spider Queen?

(Fuck you, Twitch, for skipping, my god).

Oh god, Cyrus, don't die.

Nooooo, Dariax. Living nightmares. Him and Dorian seeing their nightmares.

Spider Queen Opal wtf.

Pick up next week? Huh. I… am confused by this. Interesting encounter. I liked the drama between the Crown Keepers. But, again, I don't understand the significance for the Bell's Hells? So I reckon next week will be first half Crown Keepers, second half Bell's Hells. Huh. Interesting episode. It was fun, though I really don't deny still being on the edge of my seat to find out what's happening with the BH.

[valnyte]

Morganatic Idol first impressions from the prologue (just a bunch of incoherent thoughts)

• mc in prologue says this is her Cinderella story, and you know what, from Jace's route that I'm on so far, I can see it

• at this point we are all tired of the 1 month time limit set for IkeSeries [this is a +ONE game but they follow the formula] but here we go again (IkeVamp, IkePri, IkeVil, now Morganatic Idol)

• mc, my girl, LEAVE THE AEGIS COMPANY OH MY GOD 😭 (tldr they treat her like complete and utter crap)

• one does not simply steal a presentation idea and get away with it (bombastic side eye at MC's boss)

• also, what the hell is sakura on thinking mc will be able to balance both company work and housekeeping at the same time (Jace, we stan our makeup king, was the first one to point out how difficult that would be but nooo sakura didn't listen)

• my girl gonna die from overwork holy shit

• we don't meet Gem Cuddle until towards the end parts, they'd make a good setup for Act 2 because MC didn't even know they existed

• I need whatever MC has to even get any sort of energy at all because holy crap I would cry several times a day if I were her

Onto the characters

• Eito Sakura, is your head ok bdhshsh props for letting MC have a redo of her presentation but straight up invite her to work as a housekeeper and live in the same penthouse in less than an hour that you knew her? my guy, WHAT

• now to Gem Cuddle's Hitaki: oh he's sus alright, I wouldn't trust him at all, but if it were between him and Miu, I'd trust Hitaki more, smooth talker but very much up to no good (reminds me of Alfons in Ikemen Villains and yes they do share a seiyuu)

• Miu is actually reminding me of Gilbert von Obsidian and scares me more than Hitaki - Miu is very very suspicious and lowkey terrifying when he smiles because you know damn well he's plotting something (ily Gilbert but you are scawy)

• Nagi is the only seemingly sane one in Gem Cuddle with Hitaki and Miu are just going ふふふふふふ all over the place, the ONLY green flag in the entire game so far

• to exe Creed, I will constantly bring this up: WHAT THE HELL ARE YALL C A S U A L OUTFITS THOSE ARE NOT I T

• whoever said Xeno is just modern day Chev personality without the murder (and the bunch of dramatic medieval politcs), I might have to agree with you, and given how he's the poster boy, much of the prologue gives him quite a spotlight with MC noting a lot about him

• someone please give Ivy a break, he's giving me extreme IkeSen Hideyoshi vibes because he's pretty much the mom of exe Creed (his profile describes him as the older brother type, but no I'd say he's more of an actual mom because he has to constantly keep looking after the others in his group) and gives MC info here and there

• Jace is surprisingly bordering on polite in the prologue, albeit still flirty and one of the first to take notice and pay mind to MC aside from Sakura (just in case you forgot, Jace is the token womanizer and MC is quick to remember all of that in his route) but what the actual fuck is his casual outfit I'm still crying at it

• Finn's biggest impact on me was his casual outfit because why, just why, man, WHY, the whiplash I had seeing him in that because it reminds me of the guys I used to know who dressed godawful 😭😭😭, he's fast to back up Jace though with the "bruh wym let her live and work here as a housekeeper when she also works in a company" at Sakura

• Hugh is just eepy, that's it, he's so eepy in the prologue either Ivy or Finn nudge him awake, he's cute though

All in all, its a standard Ikemen Series style prologue, but if I am to be honest, Gem Cuddle is the actual group who I find bustling with more personality (despite two members being very two-faced) and dynamics from the prologue alone and not exe Creed. From a story standpoint, it all makes sense. MC sees exe Creed as robotic without emotions, it's difficult to see what exe Creed has in store through her eyes aside from the fact that they're hot idols that seemingly lack human emotion.

[here2bbtstrash]

birthday drabble 5 - jhs

@hopeandspriterecs asked: 100 and 141 please <3

pairing: hoseok x reader contains: smut!! fuckbuddies/honestly kind of a dick appt., hobi is a fuckboy and a mean dom (or is he 👀👀), a smidge of thigh riding, spitting, spanking, fingering (actually just clit stim but shhh), he doesn't put a condom on - don't be stupid like hobi, dirty talk, jealousy????, prepare for whiplash summary: you swear this is the last time you're doing this.

want more? check out all my birthday drabbles here! requests for these are now closed 💜

You know that Hoseok is bad for you.

You know it when you get that trademark late night text from him, nothing but a string of explicit emojis, and you wonder why you haven’t blocked his number yet.

You know it as you drive to his house, not even needing to put the address in your GPS anymore, because you have the route memorized.

And you know it when you knock softly on his front door and are immediately pulled in and slammed up against the other side.

“Hi baby,” he purrs. You wonder if he remembers your name.

Hoseok loves to chat, probably one of the things that lured you into this trap in the first place. The way he asks you about your life like he cares is dangerous for the part of you that still struggles with untangling sex from love. You know very well that this man can only give you one.

“How was your week?” He asks, slotting his thigh between your legs. Your body responds instantly, grinding into the firm surface he’s provided you with.

Your usual reaction is to demure, say it was fine, maybe bitch a little about work or the weather. But you’re annoyed with yourself tonight. Annoyed that you keep saying yes, keep crawling back to this man who can’t give you everything you want. And all for what? Some dick?

So you decide, fuck it. You’ll tell the whole truth. Tilting your chin up, you meet his gaze with a coy smile on your lips. “I went on a date.”

Hoseok’s eyes flash with something indecipherable, his mouth stretching into a wide grin. “A date, huh? Well, it can’t have gone that well.” You almost laugh. At least he’s self-aware.

“It was actually great,” you correct him, and it’s true. Hence why you’re so pissed off at yourself for even being here. “I’m going to see him again next week. I think I like him.”

“Aw, baby,” Hoseok coos, and in one swift motion he pulls your shirt up and over your head, bringing his mouth to your neck once it’s off. His voice is dripping with sarcasm as he speaks against your skin. “Don’t tell me you’re breaking up with me.”

You shrug, bumping into him with your shoulder. “I don’t know. This might be the last time. I want a boyfriend.”

You’re surprised to hear him make a soft ‘tut’ noise, kissing the back of his teeth with his tongue. “You say that now, but I know you’ll miss a few things about me.”

Against your better judgment, you’re feeling sassy tonight. “I can’t think of anything,” you say flatly, and his fingers dig so hard into your hips you expect to see bruises tomorrow.

“You know what happens when you talk to me like that,” Hoseok warns, his voice drained of all playful emotion, now low and deadly serious. “Is that what you want?”

You level your gaze on him, feeling dangerously invincible. “I didn’t come here to talk, Hoseok.”

It feels like you don’t even get the words out before his hand is gripping the back of your neck, hard. You inhale sharply at the feeling. With the smile fully extinguished from his face, you can admire the severe, perfect lines of his beauty: straight and clean, like he was carved from marble.

“Open your mouth,” he instructs, and you do it instantly. The hint of a smirk returns to his lips. “Looks like you’re still mine tonight.”

When he spits in your mouth, you moan a little despite yourself. He knows just what to do to you, always has.

Hoseok applies a little more pressure to the back of your neck, forcing you to meet his gaze as you swallow hard. “Yeah, you fucking like that.” His thigh is pressed tight into your center now, enough that you can feel the ache of your cunt throb through your whole body.

“So needy,” his voice is nearly chiding. “We’re not even gonna make it to the room, huh? You need to get fucked like a whore right here? Is that it?” He’s got you flipped around and pinned up against the door before you can even answer the question. He already knows he’s right.

“Strip,” Hoseok barks, and you can’t get your clothes off fast enough.

You hear the jangle of his belt and pants hitting the floor, and when you return to brace yourself against the door, he’s on you instantly, one strong arm pressing firmly on your back until you’re arched and presented for him the way he likes.

The head of his cock teases your entrance, and you lose any ability you had left to pretend you don’t need him.

“Hoseok, please.” You have to stifle a yelp when his hand cracks down hard over your ass.

“Don’t ask me for shit,” he growls. “I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready. Until then, you’re gonna stay just like this.”

You’re wincing already in anticipation of another slap, so it takes you by surprise when he brings his hand up to cup your sex instead, long fingers sliding through your drenched folds. It’s impossible to hide the effect he has on you.

Hoseok’s voice is close now, purring in your ear again. “You’re dripping on my floor, baby.” The pet name makes you shudder, and it’s paired with a heady moan as his fingers start to circle your clit.

“Fuck,” you breathe, and it only encourages him to work faster, falling into a steady rhythm. With your hips kicked back and your legs spread wide for him, you can feel the arousal he works up as it runs down your thighs. You’re sure his view of it must be obscene.

You have to rest your head against your forearm as your mind spins with pleasure. You were so prepared for pain, or at least a rougher touch, that this is sending you to the edge alarmingly quickly.

“Feels good, huh?” Hoseok’s voice is just barely above a whisper.

Your stomach flips. If he works you all the way up like this and then denies you release at the last second, you don’t think you’ll survive. Your legs are already trembling with how badly you need to come.

“H-Hoseok,” you can barely choke out his name now. His touch is unrelenting, dizzying.

“Could he make you feel as good as I do?”

Your breath catches at how sincerely he asks the question, not a trace of his cocky attitude to be found. “N-no,” you whimper, because it’s the truth.

His cock is suddenly teasing your entrance again, and your knees nearly buckle. He presses the tip of it flush with your core, and when you hear him groan a little, you realize he must be able to feel the way your walls are starting to flutter.

“Hoseok,” you gasp. “Please don’t fucking stop.” Something like terror rises in your chest now that you’ve said it out loud. You’ve given him a perfect punishment, should he choose to use it. You think you might cry if he does.

But you feel his other hand move over your hip, and his touch is so gentle. “Not gonna stop, baby. Wanna feel you come all over my cock.”

And then he thrusts into you all at once, and your orgasm rips through you. It takes everything you have to stay upright against the door as you pulse around him over and over, crying out at the overwhelming fullness of him unexpectedly inside you.

He groans at the way you squeeze his length so tightly, and then he withdraws from you just as quickly. You look back at him with a soft whine at the loss; your cunt is still quivering, clenching around nothing as your climax subsides.

“Bedroom. Now.” Hoseok orders, eyes darkening as he brings a hand to his cock to slowly stroke himself. “I’m fucking you until you forget his name.”

[mrpenguinpants]

Xiao: Fainting HCS

FUCK. I FORGOT TO POST THIS EARLIER. AHHHH. I HAVE WORK IN LIKE 2 MINUTES SO I’LL BE BACK TO REPLY TO EVERYONE. 

Hey anon! So sorry it took me forever to finish writing this but good luck if you’re planning on pulling Xiao. I really wanted to finish writing this fic as an offering to the gacha gods that c1 xiao wants to bless me (even tho that’s not gonna happen). But good luck to everyone rolling today^^.

Disclaimer: I have not watch anything about Xiao because my hype can only take so much. This was written before 1.3. So if I get anything wrong or I’m missing something. That’s why.

---

Can I just say how far Xiao has come in my writing since the first part of the semi series? Sniff, feel like we’re making character development for a character that’s not even out yet. I can’t wait for mihoyo to take my HCS and rip them apart.

Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ] [ Opposites Attract ] [ String Of Fate (Soulmate) ]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

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Xiao: Fainting HCS

Instant panic mode engaged. If you’ve ever doubted his adepti power of swiftness you’re about to be mistaken. He’s noticed that you seem a bit out of it but brushed it off as you being tired from your recent journey. If there was anything bothering you, you would tell him. But as he turned around to greet you back, it seems like time is slowing down for him. He sees how your eyes glazed over and become unfocused. The muscles in your body snap and you drop to the ground. He can feel his blood run cold as past memories that have been waiting to jump at him suddenly claw at him but he doesn’t even register them. He’s already running towards you.

He’s already caught you in his arms before you can even meet the wooden floor. His brain is racing as he quickly checks your pulse to make sure you didn’t suffer from a heart attack or a curse. He makes a quick search over your body to check for any injuries, he can already feel the red hot iron of anger fill his system at the thought of someone trying to take advantage of you or threaten you. He’s usually logical in these types of situations, even the death of Rex Lapis didn’t shock him this much, but he’s been battling his conflicting feelings ever since he met you. But now that he’s finally accepted you and himself, he wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to you. His mind flashes to Guizhong before he shakes away the thought.

It doesn’t occur to him that you might be sick as he tries to shake you awake. Whatever teachings Guizhong and Morax have taught him fly out the window as he holds you so close to his chest, he’s pretty sure his grip on you is bruising. He knew mortal souls weren’t as strong as adepti and staying around one might cause sickness or even worse- death. Was this his fault? He can feel the drop in his stomach as he tries to reign in his emotions and powers, not here.

Verr almost screams when Xiao breaks the wooden ceilings and lands in front of her. She’s scared that there was a monster outbreak or something was wrong with Xiao before she notices your passed out form in his arms. As much as she likes to joke around and thinks your relationship with Xiao is cute, she knows that if anything came to seriously harm you she wouldn’t able to calm Xiao before he goes on a rampage. You mean so much to him and he hasn’t opened his heart to anyone except you.

She can tell he’s nearly past his breaking point as he looks at her with dilated eyes as he asks, no commands, her to help you. It’s such whiplash to her. Xiao’s always been polite and reserved that she almost forgets he used to be a demon slaying Yaksha, but this isn’t the time for her to worry about that. She quickly leads him to the backroom since there’s no way Xiao wouldn’t bite any hand that comes near you. Bless Verr’s heart since this isn’t the first time she’s had to handle Xiao’s outbreaks that she manages to save face and contact a doctor that was staying at the inn to look at you. She does feel a bit bad for the doctor who looks like he’s about to piss himself in fear as Xiao growls and watches the doctors every move with piercing yellow eyes.

Xiao is still wary when the doctor and Verr try to calm him down and examine you more closely, always flinching back whenever their hands get too close to you, letting out a dangerous hiss whenever there’s the slightest twitch of discomfort in your face when the doctor feels your heated forehead. As soon as the doctor concludes that you’ve been sick for the past few days and your body just needs to heal itself and recharge, the tension on Xiao’s shoulder loosens and the suffocating aura that’s been filling the room slowly filters out. Verr can’t help but sigh in relief but can’t bring herself to scold Xiao for breaking the inns roof as she watches him look over your form with worried eyes as he softly nudges your cheek. He’s still holding you but his grip has loosen slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. He breathes a sigh of relief as he rubs small circles in your hand. Xiao’s never been the most affectionate or shown to be the most caring but you’ve seriously scared him. She quietly leaves him be and closes the door as she begins to prepare to fix the damages.

Xiao never leaves your side as he waits for you to wake up. He can’t help but berate himself for not confronting you. The doctor said you would be fine but he can’t but imagine your body falling in a more violent scene. He quickly shakes those thoughts away as he paces around the room, sits besides you, then goes back to pacing. Usually he would go on a walk or beat his aggression out but he doesn’t want to leave you alone should you awake early.

Xiao doesn’t ramble about his day while you’re asleep, instead he just observes your features and the small movements you make to remind him that you’re okay. How your chest moves up and down as you breath or how your eyes sometimes scrunch in sleep. You’ve made him almost trip when you did it the first time since he thought you were waking up. He can’t help but think back to his fellow Yaksha’s and what they would say if they saw the way he was acting now.

Since his panic attack has mostly subsided he’s found himself growing more curious. He’s still worried about you but he’s managed to reason with himself that you’re okay, just sick which he’s going to scold you a bit for when you awake, so he softly brushes his fingers across your face. Before snatching his hand away in embarrassment. What the hell is he doing? Guizhong would slap him sideways if she saw him now. He huffs at himself as he deflates a little and rests his head on the bed beside your head. He’s patient. He will wait when your ready to wake up.

When you suddenly gain consciousness, it feels as if the entire world is weighing you down. You slowly blink open your eyes to see a worried Xiao hovering over you, his hands awkwardly in the air since he’s not sure if it’s okay to touch you.

“How are you feeling?” Xiao asks as his eyes dart all over the place before resting on your face. You’re still a bit out of it but you can tell he must have been really worried. You try to give him a small smile but with how scuffy you feel you can bet it’s not a pretty picture.

“Like I got slammed with one of Zhongli’s meteors,” you tried to laughed before coughing as Xiao quickly pressed a cup of water to your lips. Slowly letting you drink and calm down. 

“If you have time to make jokes then you’re alright” Xiao sighs before his features change slightly. His eyes glaze over in concern as a small frown appears. He really does look like a kicked kitten as he slumps over as the stress finally lifts as he feels your hand softly run through his hair.

“Sorry,” you say, he must have been so stressed out while you were passed out for him to look so exhausted. He simply nudges into your hand before turning his face to kiss your palm,

“There’s no need for apologies. I’m...just glad you’re okay,” Xiao mumbles before he’s back to pressing his head into your stomach. You can’t help but smile delicately as you reach over and bring Xiao up with you until he’s lying over you as you hug him gently. There’s a bit of shuffling before you’re able to spoon him as he let’s himself relax after the two day panic attack he just went through.

---

When you’ve fully recovered Xiao seems to hover around you a bit more. Well not a bit, a lot more, but no one has the heart to tell him that. It’s actually kind of adorable seeing the aloof and reserved adepti seem to follow you around like a loss duckling. Making sure you’re okay and you’re not overworking yourself. He still keeps his tough demeanor but you seriously gave him a big scare.

When Zhongli and Childe come over for their weekly visits of tea, they were aware that Xiao had locked himself in a room to watch over you and anyone that even stepped near the door would be skewered with a spear - and Verr would make them pay for the damages (Zhongli) and whatever consequences Xiao saw fit (Childe) - but they are happy to see you’re okay. You all fall back into your usual rhythm of conversation or Childe trying to get a rise out of Xiao while you and Zhongli talk about how lovely the weather’s been.

Zhongli let’s you in on some details that Xiao or Verr never mentioned while Childe and Xiao are fighting about who knows what. How Xiao wouldn’t leave your side or that he resembled a kicked kitten as he nudged your hand when he thought no one was looking. He offers you some medicine herbs to help with exhaustion and to take care of yourself. Likewise, to give Xiao some pain medication on his behalf. You’re one of the few good things in Xiao’s life and he doesn’t want anything bad happening to you.

---

Hmm. I didn’t mean to but I totally believe in the dad zhongli train and I think Zhongli basically just gave you his blessing? Maybe I’m thinking too hard on this haha.

Maybe this is better? Trying to figure out writing styles are hard. Either way, I’m never gonna end up kicking my paragraph HCS habit haha. If you couldn’t tell, I really like feral protective but lowkey vulnerable types (coughrazorcough). Xiao is so OOC at this point I don’t even know how to fix it. Please come home Xiao. 

(Edit: FUCK YEAH HE CAME HOME WITH DILUC. WE 90ED THIS BITCH AND IM ABOUT TO MAX HIS TALENTS. ILL SHARE IT WITH YOU ALL (since people have been asking) WHEN I GET BACK FROM WORK)

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (8)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 5.3k warnings: sweet happy beautiful bucky, a unpleasant reminder of the past, whiplash of emotion, the angst I warned you about 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

Bucky wasn’t quite sure how to hold onto this feeling without suffocating it.  

It had been nearly a year since he’d felt even an ounce of the relief like what washed through his body when you walked through the door. All it took was a single smile from across the room, the soft brush of your hair over your fingers as you nervously tucked it behind your ear, and he was gone.  

Enough for his cheeks to ache from smiling. Enough for his stomach to twist and knot from laughter. Enough for the wrinkles by his eyes to draw long and pronounced— the physical embodiment of joy upon his face.  

He wasn’t walking on eggshells, waiting for the carpet to be dragged out from under his feet, for the paralyzing darkness of an empty void to consume him whole. The shadows weren’t lingering in his wake, itching to clench their claws into his spine and drag him away from the one thing that finally drew light back into his life.  

For the first time since he stepped back on American soil, Bucky Barnes was happy. Truly and honest to God, happy.  

“So! What do you think?” your voice called to him, breaking the trance he’d been in. 

“Hmm?” Bucky blinked a few times to adjust to his surroundings. You were laughing at him, a hand over your lips in an effort to muffle the sound. Behind you, a woman directed a pointed stare in your direction despite the busy chatter inside Luciana’s.  

“The book, Bucky,” you grinned, tapping on the edge of the binding.  

He glanced down. The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue sat propped in his right hand, the clip you’d given him the first day of book club nestled in at the center to keep the pages open. Truthfully, he hadn’t read a single word of it since he sat down with you an hour ago. His attention had been better kept watching how you tugged your lower lip between your teeth in concentration, how your eyes widened at a particularly suspenseful part of your chapter, how you clicked your nails against the coffee mug in perfect rhythm with the café music.  

“It’s good,” he said, though you pouted at him. 

“Bucky you’ve been on the same page for twenty minutes!”  

Busted. He shrugged, a laugh in his breath.  

“Guess there were better things to look at.” 

Your lips parted for a second, caught off guard, before you settled back into your seat. Your hands wrung out in front of you, eyes darting down the floor. It wasn’t easy to make you flustered, but damn if it was Bucky’s favorite feeling in the world.  

“Don’t insult my books like that, Barnes,” you teased, lingering smile upon your face.  

“Wouldn’t call it an insult,” he said simply. “There’s not much that can hold a candle when you’re around.” 

The stun didn’t leave your face for a few seconds. You stared at him, then glanced around the room nervously as if he’d said something incredibly intimate. He couldn’t remember the last time this came so easy to him – the flirting, the charm. It was something he’d thrived on before the war and now, it seemed you brought that side out of him again.  

“You’re a charmer today,” you observed, laughing through the nervous energy. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“Nothing.” Bucky shrugged, reaching across the table to break off a piece of your pastry and plopped it into his mouth. “I’m happy. Can I be happy?” 

You nodded quickly, almost a little too enthusiastically, with a smile so wide on your face he wondered if it were possible for it to touch your ears.  

“Yeah. Yeah, you can be happy.” The words left your lips almost breathlessly. You were looking at him like he was the goddamn sun and damn if that didn’t tug straight at his heart. “I like you happy.” 

“I like me happy, too,” Bucky chuckled. He glanced up at the clock. “Come on, we should head over to the VA.” 

You downed the rest of your coffee in a single chug and set the cup on the counter. Luciana waved at you as you moved towards the exit, Bucky in tow, and she winked at him as he passed by. He nodded, offering her a tight-lipped smile as he stepped out into the cool Autumn air. Your hand naturally slipped into his and you tugged him along the sidewalk.  

“Promise me you’ll actually pay attention to Steve’s spiel instead of staring at me the whole time,” you teased him as you walked over the crosswalk, nudging his side.  

Steve was giving a presentation at the VA for the open house; explaining the benefits, the groups, different opportunities, and the respite rooms. It was a big deal apparently and helped to bring a lot of former soldiers into the fold. It was one of your favorite days because there was usually an increase of members at book club for a few weeks after.  

“No guarantees,” Bucky replied, face as even as he could manage it. That was, until you swatted his chest and he burst into laughter, drawing the attention of a group of teenagers who eyed him as they walked by. Their lingering stare meant nothing to him when he stood at your side.  

When you reached the VA, you pushed open the door, considering his hand was otherwise occupied, and led him inside. There were dozens of people in the lobby, certainly more than he’d ever seen inside. Men and women were mingling around the tables, some sitting on the couches, with paper plates of cheese and crackers from the grocery store.  

Tony stumbled by carrying about four boxes filled with cookies, barely keeping his balance.  

“I could use a little help, kid!” he called, eyeing you as he frantically made his way to the kitchen.  

“Coming, Tony!” You turned to Bucky, smile still present on your face as you ran a hand along his arm in comforting sweeps. “Will you be alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m good. Go.” 

Maybe if he looked close enough, he might have seen a well of pride on your face, but you didn’t give him the chance before you leaned up and pressed a kiss straight to his lips— no cares for the crowd in the room or the fact that Sam and Steve were lingering around the VA somewhere. Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to worry about the stares because, hell, maybe he wanted people to know you were the woman he had the privilege of kissing. 

“Go,” Bucky said again, pulling away from you reluctantly as a clanging could be heard from the kitchen, followed by an aggravated moan which could have only belonged to Tony Stark. You pouted, stealing one last kiss before bolting down the hall and out of sight.  

Bucky spent a few extra seconds staring down the end of the empty hallway before he turned back to the room. The crowd didn’t bother him as much as it might have a few months earlier. He didn’t feel the same rush of anxiety in his veins as he felt on busy streets, but it didn’t mean he was explicitly comfortable either.  

So, he kept to the outskirts of the room, standing along the wall and observing quietly from the corners.  

The event seemed to be going well. He’d spotted Steve mingling with a group of older guys with long white beards and biker jackets, laughing as they told him about their adventures biking cross country. Sam found his way over to the couch beside a few of the guests who had busied themselves with the food instead and even found a way to get them talking to one another. Bucky kept his hand pressed into his pocket, a semblance of a smile on his face as he watched Sam pick a chip of the plate of the woman he was talking to without reservation. 

It was a good place. A respite. Just like Sam had told him it would be. Bucky found a sense of normalcy in this building he couldn’t have hoped to find out in the real world alone— a belonging – and he knew a lot of that had to do with you.  

He was just about to head down to the kitchen to see if you needed any help when he heard a voice that ran like ice through his veins. What it had said was indistinguishable, but Bucky could recognize the thick grovel of the tone almost anywhere. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder, trying to remain as small as possible, as he spotted Jack Rollins emerging from the entrance.

With slicked jet-black hair, hardened angular lines upon his face, and a permanent scowl etching down on his features, Jack Rollins was not a man Bucky ever wanted to see again. He spoke with the two men in his wake, gesturing to a woman who was standing quietly by herself, reading the flyers on the bulletin board, as if he were stalking prey.  

Bucky’s heart was thunderous as he took a step back. His black slammed against the wall, catching the breath in his lungs. His fingertips brushed over the chill of the pealing wallpaper, trying to find his grounding before Rollins noticed he was there. But luck was never so kind to him.  

It only took one scan of the room before Rollin’s eyes landed on Bucky. He stilled, just as surprised to see him, but then, something dark twisted upon his features. 

“Sergeant Barnes!” he called over the crowd, a jeering sort of laugh in his voice. 

Bucky gritted his teeth, forcing himself to meet Rollins in the eye. “Jack.” 

“Been over a year, man. How you been?” Rollins was conversational only in statement. His tone was near threatening, his men following behind him like a shadow. Dark eyes trailed down along the empty sleeve on Bucky’s side, a smile rising on his face.  

Bucky tried to pretend as though he didn’t notice. “Recovering. You?” 

“Yeah, I bet you are.” Rollins chuckled. Then, he puffed his chest up. “I’ve been working for the private sector.”  

That didn’t surprise him. Rollins always had an affinity for the darkest parts of the job overseas. He took too much pleasure in the use of his weapon, paid no mind to the destruction left behind in his wake. Rollins was exactly the sort of man the military hoped to produce; follow chain of command without question, find purpose in your mission, execute without remorse. Seemed he found more of the same when he returned home. Only this time for a bigger paycheck.  

Bucky could still picture him dressed in army camouflage with the weight of near forty pounds of combat gear on his back, finger always on the trigger. It felt a bit like that now, Bucky realized, as Rollins narrowed his eyes as if he were going in for the kill.  

“You know, Barnes,” Rollins shrugged, exchanging a snide grin with his friends, “I’m a little surprised you’d even show your face around here after what happened. Takes guts.” 

Bucky swallowed as though there weren’t blades in his throat. He tried not to let the hitch in his breath show or how his stomach dropped about ten feet below the surface. Instead, he pressed his lips together into a thin line, holding Rollins’ stare as if he were made of stone.   

“You should leave,” Bucky said, his voice low enough to break gravel.  

“Me?” Rollins mocked, laughing as he turned to his friends. Then, facing Bucky again as a darkness clouded over his features. “That's rich, coming from you.” 

Bucky held his breath. He tried to draw on images of you sitting across from him at Luciana’s, how you smiled at him, how you made him feel like he didn’t carry such a heavy weight upon his back. He pictured you curled up next to him in your bed, imprints of the pillow on your cheeks and the covers pulled up tight to your chin. He imagined how your hand felt in his, how it brushed along his back, how your lips felt on his cheek, on his mouth.  

But those pictures started to fade the longer Rollins stared at him, that devilish smirk upon his face as he ran a hand along his jawline, cracking his knuckles against the bone. Those comforting images of you sunk into the darkness, pulled from him somewhere far beyond where he could reach and suddenly, he felt like he was standing on a pillar at the center of the ocean, nothing but violent waves surrounding him for miles. Alone.  

“I mean, what the fuck are you doing here, Barnes?” Rollins jeered, picking up a cookie from the table, inspecting it for a moment before he tossed it back on the platter. It crumbled on impact. “You think you even deserve to step foot in this building after what you did?”  

“It didn’t go down like you think,” Bucky shot back, his voice uneven, wavering, as if he didn’t quite believe it himself.  

He tried to repeat the words that Sam had worked to instill in him again and again for months after he came home. They never seemed to stick until the last few weeks but now – now they felt as far away as ever.  

I did everything I could. 

Some things are outside of my control.  

It wasn’t my fault. 

He wasn’t sure he believed that with Jack Rollins circling around him like a vulture, amused by the distress quickly forming against Bucky’s features.  

From across the room, Sam stood up from his place on the couch, a hand gesturing over to Steve as he caught sight of Rollins. Bucky retreated in his stance, feeling as though Rollins was towering over him, his chest caving in. Rollin smirked, teeth bared and ready to strike.  

With venom like precision, Rollins spat, “You’re the reason half our unit is dead, asshole.” 

It hit like a sucker punch to the gut, made him stumbled back a few paces as if he were clocked in the chest. The initial blow only lasted for a few seconds before the overwhelming sense of shame seeped back into his veins, slipping through his blood like muddied waters and stealing away the careful, steady progress he’d made.  

Then, a lingering acceptance as it cleared him to the surface. 

A numbness took over, casting back to the shadows inside his mind. It was what he’d been waiting for since the day he’d stepped foot off that plane – for someone to confirm all the destruction and self-loathing he’d felt since that day.  

Rollins was right.  

I could have saved them. 

I could have prevented all of it. 

It was my fault. 

He’d been foolish to convince himself otherwise. 

“Hey!” Sam barked, jutting out in front of Bucky and shoving a hand to the middle of Rollin’s chest as he attempted to draw closer. “What the fuck is your problem, man?” 

“My problem? My problem is you’re letting just about anyone walk through those doors!” Rollins shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Bucky. “Your buddy here is responsible for eight of our own coming home in caskets!” 

Bucky flinched, visibly recoiling as if something had burned him, and it seemed to be the reaction Rollins was looking for because a snide grin slid up along his cheeks.  

Steve was suddenly on his left, a hand pressed to his shoulder. He was whispering something in his ear, but he couldn’t quite hear him. He could hardly make out what Sam was shouting as he attempted to push Rollins towards the door. A crowd was gathering – standing in watch to observe the shame of a soldier who should have burned in the desert with his friends.  

“What’s going on?” 

Bucky’s heart dropped at the sound of your voice as you appeared on his right. He didn’t know how long you’d been there or what you heard, but it was the first time he ever regretted allowing himself the luxury of your presence, of your warmth and kindness. You should have been an anchor beside him, but he could feel the rope slipping from his grip, letting him sink down into the ocean or float high into the clouds – somewhere far away from where you were.  

You ran your hand along his arm, trying to thread an ounce of comfort back into his body, but he was rigid as stone. The touch was paralyzing. It was a reminder of his emptiness, of his ill attempt to be worthy of your affection. You seemed to notice as you stared up at him, worry filling your eyes.  

“Ah, so you’ve got a girl now, too?” Rollins sneered towards Bucky, shoving Sam aside.  

“Leave her out of this,” Bucky warned, his voice returning to him only in your defense. He stepped out in front of you, shielding you from Rollins’ gaze.  

It only seemed to amuse him more. “Tell me, sweetheart. What’s it like? I mean, can he even get the job done? You wanna try being with a real man again?” 

It was Sam that roared in response. “Watch your fucking mouth!” 

Your hand rested on Bucky’s shoulder blades as if you were trying to ease him but he felt like he was on fire. Rollins shoved Sam aside to get a better look at you, a predator going in for the kill.  

Rollins’ cold eyes stared directly into yours and Bucky felt his breathing stop.  

“Did you know half of our unit died under his watch?”  

Everything became white noise after that. Bucky didn’t dare turn to look at your reaction, nor could he hear Sam’s defense or Steve’s angry shouts as Rollins continued his taunts. He didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly, Rollins was on the floor. Sam was shaking his hand out, holding his fist against his chest. 

Rollins stumbled his way back to his feet with a vengeance, folding his hands into fists as he charged at Sam. 

“Get him out of here!” Steve’s muffled voice called to you as the crowd began to swarm in. Former soldiers joining the chaos, cheering or barreling fists. A man bumped into Bucky’s shoulder, but there was no trace of a reaction on his face. He was empty. He was numb.  

Bucky could vaguely feel your hand as you slipped it into his pocket, drawing his own to intertwine between your fingers and you tugged him down the hall. He knew better than to look over his shoulder at the mess he was leaving behind.  

*** 

You took Bucky into the empty library, quickly closing the door behind you to muffle the sound of the shouting down the hall. Bucky stood at the head of the couch, his eyes downcast.  

“Are you alright?” You knew there was no good answer. It was a foolish question. And still -- you asked. 

Your hands slid along Bucky’s chest, up to his shoulders to try and draw some of the tension away, and for the first time, he recoiled under your touch. Your hands quickly dropped down to your sides as you took a few steps back, hands held tightly in front of you. A flash of remorse covered his features as he looked at you, but then the stone swept back in its place and hardened the softened edges you adored. You pushed aside the splinter inside your chest.  

“Who was that guy anyway? He seems like a real piece of work.” You laughed, though it was tense and forced. Bucky didn’t so much as crack a smile.  

It was silent for a moment. The only sound coming from the low hum of the radiator in the corner of the room. Bucky’s gaze was fixated on the carpet, staring at the years’ faded stains and the dust bunnies at the foot of the couch. A terrible aching tugging down on his lips, on his eyes, on his cheeks, and he barely resembled the man who had teased you over coffee at Luciana’s just an hour earlier.  

“He was right, though.” 

You swallowed, daring to ask, “what do you mean?” 

“I'm the reason half my unit is dead,” Bucky replied flatly. When he looked at you again, you found his eyes were red, his lips swollen from chewing on the edges. His right hand had indents in his palm from where he’d dug his nails into the skin. Your stomach lurched.  

“Oh, Bucky.” Your heart broke at the sight of him. “That... That can’t be true.” 

He didn’t say anything, but the grit in his teeth was enough to tell you that he believed it. You’d only seen glimpses of how the war had touched him, how it cast shadows over the man he’d been before he stepped on that plane and adorned the uniform, but now – now, it felt like those shadows had consumed him whole. He couldn’t so much as see the soft rise of the sun over his shoulder. He was too swept up in the embrace of darkness. The light couldn’t touch him where he stood shielded by night.  

“Why don’t we go to my place?” you offered, inching a step closer. When he didn’t retreat, you gathered his hand into your own. While he didn’t pull away again, you could feel the reluctance in his grip, the rigidity in his stance. “I can make dinner and we'll throw on a movie, okay? Let’s just get out of here.” 

Your right hand slid along the side of his face, cupping at his cheek. He usually leaned into the touch, pressed a kiss to the inside of your palm. Instead, the most he could force out was a tight-lipped smile that did not touch his eyes. You could practically feel how hard he was clenching his jaw, the muscle tired and aching. Still, he nodded. 

As you led him out the back exit of the VA, you glanced behind you to see Rollins sitting on the floor, nursing a bloody nose as a police officer stood over him, jotting down notes as he spoke with Steve. Sam caught your eye for a second, nodding in your direction. A relief washed through you and you tugged Bucky outside before anyone could notice him slip out.  

It was silent the whole walk to your apartment. It wasn’t entirely unusual, but it was the first time the air carried a lingering sense of discomfort in it. You wondered what was going on in Bucky’s head, how badly he’d construed whatever Rollins had said to him, even before you arrived. Sam had told you of Bucky’s self-destructive habit of carrying guilt far heavier than he could carry, guilt that didn’t belong to him. He seemed to welcome it like it was made for him. He didn’t mind if it ripped him apart and left him broken and empty when it was done. He seemed to think it was what he deserved.  

You squeezed his hand, hoping it might draw back a sense of comfort, but he kept his eyes forward on the empty streets ahead. His hand was little more than limp in your hold.  

*** 

Bucky was just on the edge of sleep when it began to creep up on him. Slow at first, and then, sudden, in violent flashes. 

Sweltering heat. The low rumble of a jeep. An infectious laugh on his left and the cold compress of a gun in his hands. A sudden stop.  

Bucky gritted his teeth, trying to turn away from the images attempting to draw him under, to sweep him beyond the current, to drown him in the darkest parts of the depth. But the riptide caught hold of his leg and forced him underwater.  

Heavy equipment on his back. Sand under his feet. The sun blinding in his eyes.  

He swallowed, but his throat was lined in rust. It burned. He couldn’t breathe.  

A reflection over a valley. Someone shouting. Screaming. Warning. Frantic.  

The kid. Get to the kid! 

Then – the heat of a fire scorching his skin. Ringing in his ears. Muffled. Agonizing silence. Blood on the sand, on his shoes, dripping down his side and soaking into his uniform.  

Pain. So much pain. So much pain. So much— 

Bucky’s eyes shot open. He sucked in a breath of air and it came in short and shallow, barely filling his lungs, and he was panting for more. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, gasping for breath until he took enough in that the dizziness started to subside. His forehead was lined in sweat, his right hand shaking uncontrollably as he gripped at the sheets.  

It was as mild as it’s ever been – the nightmares. Usually, he woke up screaming, his voice so raw it ached until morning. He thrashed and kicked and drew blood until something finally jarred him awake. He’d broken the lamp beside his bed four times in the weeks after he came home. It was violent and messy, and it was a damn miracle he’d only felt a sliver of it tonight.  

But it had been so long since he had one. He almost thought they had finally released him from their hold before Rollins showed up. For a while, they let him be happy. He should have known better than to expect it to last.  

The mattress dipped slightly behind him and with a sharp hilt, Bucky suddenly remembered where he was.  

He turned over his shoulder to find you laying on the bed beside him, hair cast up and around you against the pillow, eyes closed, the steady rhythm of your breaths indicating you were still fast asleep. He stilled for a moment, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the light scrunch in your nose.  

You’d tried so hard to get him to smile the whole evening after what happened at the VA. Constant touches to his cheeks, along his arm, playing absentmindedly with his hand. You made him dinner and curled up against him as you put on a movie that you were certain would turn his mood around, but he remained stoic and cold until you finally resigned to the bedroom.  

He could tell how exhausted you were. Even reaching for his hand, there was a helplessness in your grasp, but you’d begged him to stay, insisting you didn’t want him to be alone after what happened at the VA. You held him tight to your chest, told him over and over again that you didn’t care what Rollins said, you knew he was a good man and that was all that mattered. 

Bucky wanted so badly to believe that.  

But here you were – so beautiful, a light, something good in his life he didn’t deserve.  

Sam would kill him for giving into those thoughts again, but all he had in his head was violence and agony and there you were – so peaceful and soft and kind. He'd taint you with all the mess threatening to break through his seams. He’d hurt you. He'd break you. You couldn’t hold him together no matter how hard you tried. He didn’t deserve such kindness. Today reminded him of that.  

Bucky leaned in and pressed a short kiss to your temple. It was feather light and still, you sighed in your sleep. He tried not to notice when the corners of your lips curved up into a smile.  

Then, he crept out of the room, stealing one last look at you as you turned onto your side, arms crossed over your chest protectively. Something tugged inside his chest, begging him to stay. He could feel it pushing him back toward the bed, to your embrace and the comfort it brought, but he turned his back. He ignored his every instinct to return to your side and dragged his feet of the bedroom instead.  

Despite his reluctance, he found himself lingering on the photograph in your hallway of the Air Force pilot; sandy blonde hair, a tight-lipped smile, features that made him look younger than he probably was. A pang of jealousy wretched into his stomach at the sight of this nameless man. Shame quickly followed. 

You never spoke of the man in the photo – the nameless Air Force pilot who stood at your side in front of your parents. The way you pressed out a smile despite your tears, the position of your stance angled closer to the pilot as if to preserve your last remaining moments together, made Bucky question what had happened to this man. This was clearly a man you had loved. Might still love. 

Bucky didn’t dare allow himself to wonder if he had ever measured up. He supposed now he would not get the chance. 

Bucky let out a sigh as he turned away from the picture. He made it all the way to the door before he heard the squeak of the floor boards behind him. 

“Bucky?” 

Sleep was still etched in your voice. You yawned as you folded your arms, squinting at him to adjust to the dim light in the kitchen. Bucky clenched his jaw, reluctantly turning to face you.  

“It’s the middle of the night,” you said, eyes flickering to the clock above the stove. It was then you must have noticed the jacket draped over his shoulders, boots on his feet, hand begrudgingly releasing the door knob. Your face fell. “Where are you going?” 

He didn’t know what to say. Was there an easy way to break your heart? Was there any excuse that could allow both of you to walk away from this unharmed? There was no good answer, but his silence certainly was worse.  

“Bucky?” you tried again and he could hear the inflection of concern etched into your tone. You took a step closer to him and he held himself firm. He was stone now. It was what he had to be.  

“I’m sorry,” he muttered out, voice low, though he met your eye. “I can’t do this.” 

If you were still half asleep a moment ago, you weren’t anymore. Your eyes widened, lips parting. Your arms fell down to your sides.  

“What... What are you talking about?” you exhaled, barely above a whisper. He could hear the hurt in your voice, the confusion, and he hated himself for it. You stepped closer, reaching out for his hand. “Please, just come back to bed. You look like you haven't slept for—” 

Bucky pulled his hand away the moment you touched his fingers. It forced a hitch in your breath, a step back. You hadn’t expected him to recoil from you like that. Two times in the same day. You were losing him, the realization clear in your eyes. He was slipping and he would not take the tether as you threw it to him.  

“This is about what that man said at the VA, isn’t it?” you asked timidly, your lip quivering. You shook your head, trying to hold back tears though Bucky could practically hear the tension from the lump in your throat. “He was... he was just being cruel. I don’t believe a word of it. And neither does Sam or Steve – the people that love you, Bucky. Don’t give in into him. Don’t let him win.” 

Bucky didn’t say anything, rendering his reaction colder than you deserved. 

You reached out for him again, a habit, though you pulled your hand back to your chest before you could touch him. It was shaking.  

“Honey, please,” you tried again, unwilling to give up on him like you should. “Come get some rest and maybe you’ll feel better in the morning. Just... don’t go. Don’t be alone with this.” 

You were begging. He could hear it in your voice. The desperation. And still—Bucky offered you nothing in return. 

He sank so far inside himself you couldn’t reach beyond the cliffside to offer your hand. All it took was a single push. He was already standing so close to the edge. Rollins had set a hand on his back, like an old friend, like an enemy, and shoved. Bucky didn’t even try to catch his fall.  

“Whatever this is...” Bucky murmured and eyes focused down at the tile, unable to look at you as he broke your heart, “it’s over.” 

His heart was splintering as he said it and still, he turned and left without another word. He didn’t wait for your response, didn’t wait to see whether his cruelty had ended in tears, and closed the door behind him. You didn’t attempt to follow.  

You’d understand eventually, he convinced himself. Even a woman as compassionate and loving as you couldn't possibly love a man so broken, with jagged edges and open wounds, with shards of glass embedded inside him and poison in his touch. Empty and hollow. Broken.  

[cotton-tails]

So I saw this last night, and the little angsty plot bunny in my head woke up and I just had to write something. Fully intended to be a drabble of sorts, but of course it turned into a four page tear-fest, so grab the tissues and strap in.

Oh, and I haven't edited this, it's just 3am word-vomit, so enjoy the mess!

-

“So, this hasn’t exactly gone to plan.”

Della snorts cheerlessly at Donald’s deadpan comment, struggling into a sitting position and wincing at a twinge in her elbow. The chains dig into her arms with every movement, a very clear upgrade from the ropes they’d all been able to break out of within several minutes not too long ago. These idiots don’t know who they’re messing with.

Or they do; probably a little too well, hence the plan that fell apart very quickly. And the chains. And the scary looking red lightning below them.

“Shut up!” Heron snaps behind them, cuffing Donald a little too roughly around the head.

He doesn’t react more than a sharp hiss and a dark glare behind him, and Della can’t help the sharp pang of guilt under the surge of anger. She bites back a comment, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground until the villain is out of earshot.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, keeping her voice low.

“What? Why?” Donald sounds confused but she can’t bring herself to look at him.

“You should be with Daisy right now,” she says, “I’m the one who guilted you into staying, into coming on this stupid trip. And now we’re facing the very real possibility of dying.”

Donald is quiet.

Forcing herself to look up, she frowns at the look on his face. He still doesn’t say anything, but the expression says it all; ‘Della-you-absolute-idiot-what-are-you-blathering-on-about?’

“I came on this stupid trip cause our kids were in trouble,” he hisses eventually, “my family were in trouble! You think I wouldn’t ditch my vacation in a heartbeat for any of you?”

“I-” Della starts, but her voice catches, rendering her utterly speechless. He’s not lying, she knows exactly what he would do for the family, for her. Yet, somehow that knowledge isn’t exactly helping.

She misses her chance to reply, all conversation cut off with the explosive arrival of Scrooge and Bradford through the roof.

Della clenches her fist and almost bites through the inside of her cheek as he slams to the ground. She manages to chime out a ‘Hey Uncle Scrooge,’ with Donald when his pained gaze finds them. Beakley mutters a sarcastic ‘Fantastic,’ from her other side. She can only watch as a now armoured Bradford, armed with the sword, picks him up by the back of his coat and drags him up the stairs. He’s blathering on about something, but she’s stopped listening; too busy focusing on her battered and beaten uncle and how this could have gone so completely and utterly wrong.

It’s the usual spiel anyway, threats to destroy his family, his adventures, everything he had worked for, blah blah blah.

Then the contract is revealed, and her stomach drops to somewhere around her knees. If they don’t find a way out soon, Scrooge will have to either sign his life away or they all die, and frankly, neither option sound particularly appealing.

It’s only when Bradford sacrifices his own agents that the desperateness of the situation really sinks in. It’s one thing to talk about murder, it’s entirely another to actually do it. And if Bradford is willing to throw away his own agents, Della can’t imagine what he would be willing to do to her family if Scrooge doesn’t sign.

He tries to buy some time. Della can almost hear the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out how to get out of this one. She huffs out a half-hearted laugh at the sharp quip about the fine-print. He’d figure something out, he always does. Not to mention the kids are bound to have found a way out by now, they’d pick up the rest of their allies and be on their way to disrupt the whole evil plan.

It’s just a matter of-

“Ugh! Enough stalling!”

Never mind.

“You need some incentive.”

Della does not like where this is going.

“Perhaps the life of your most trusted ally?”

The three of them snap their heads forward as Bradford stalks towards them, sword dragging on the concrete threateningly. As the screeching rings in Della’s ears, the only thought racing through her mind is ‘not Donnie, not Donnie, please, don’t take my brother.’

Her heart almost stops when he scoops Donald up by his collar, his cry echoing in her ears.

“Donald!” Three voices scream.

She can barely breathe, crippling panic bubbling up inside. All she wants to do is close her eyes and scream, break these chains and drag him back to safety, but she can’t move, she can’t take her eyes off her twin as he’s dangled over the edge.

“What will it be Scrooge? Adventure? Or your Family?”

‘Just do what he wants!’ She’s not ashamed of the thought. They’ll figure out a way to reverse the contract, there’s always a way, always a loophole. Just do it so she can see her brother safely on solid ground.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

She can’t say she’s surprised at how quickly he gives in.

“No! Don’t!” Donald screams, “find a way out! You can beat him!”

The pen is already in his hand. “It’s not worth the risk lad.”

They can only watch in horror at the golden glow that circles around him, lifting him up and binding him with unbreakable chains that drag him to the ground.

“I did it!” Bradford crows triumphantly. “The great Scrooge McDuck, now only a poor old man!”

Della’s heart breaks just a little at the look of absolute misery on her old uncle’s face, but she doesn’t have time to mourn properly, because Bradford is talking. Again.

“Normally I wouldn’t indulge in such petty villainy,” he says, his gaze turning back to Donald, still dangling over the edge, with a glint in his eye that makes Della’s blood run cold. “But since this is a special occasion.”

He lets go.

Della’s eyes meet Donald’s for an agonising second, and then he’s gone.

There’s a flash of red, and someone is screaming.

She doesn’t even realise it’s her until a rough hand knocks her back.

“Shut it! Or it’ll be you next!”

Hot tears stream down her beak and she presses her forehead into the cold concrete, not even bothering to choke back a sob. Over the pounding of her own taunting heartbeat in her ears, she hears the sound of the machine powering down (‘Too late’ her traitorous mind provides), of her kids voices yelling something, and Scrooge shouting for them to be careful.

And Bradford, confused and angry as her family finally, finally step in to save the day.

His voice sets off something inside that she hadn’t felt since the day Lunaris betrayed her. A raging anger that burns through her, overwhelming any other emotion and completely taking over her mind.

The chains are no longer an obstacle, and even Beakley can’t stop her from launching herself at the buzzard. They tumble down the stairs, fists flying and feet kicking. Everything blurs after that, which may or may not be a side effect of a rather painful bump on the head as they hit the ground at the bottom of the staircase. She’s kicked off, then it’s just a cloud of lights and bodies and a strong arm holding her back from doing anything overly-reckless and potentially stupid.

The kids, her (their) beautiful, wonderful kids, figure out the loophole and the ever-binding contract disintegrates.

It’s done.

The maniacal villain is defeated once more. The world has returned to rights and the sounds of celebration fill the air.

But Della can only stand and watch, her hands trembling and eyes burning. Beakley stands behind her, hands hovering just behind her shoulders, ready to give comfort if needed.

He’s gone.

Her brother, the other half of her soul; just… gone.

And… oh.

Her knees buckle, a wrecked sob forcing its way from her throat. Beakley catches her with a arm round the shoulders and a hand under her elbow, lowering her gently to the ground as she crumples into a ball. She presses her hands to her eyes in a hopeless attempt to stem the tears as everything comes crashing down.

“It’s okay, let it out dear.”

He shouldn’t have been here. He should’ve been on that amazing adventure with Daisy, sailing together on that old houseboat. After everything life had thrown at him, after all the madness they’d been through, he’d finally caught a break, finally found that amazing person who loved him as fiercely as he loved her.

Then Della had come along, crying about lost time and not being ready. She hadn’t wanted to him to leave, even on a stupid vacation that he would very clearly be coming back from.

Now he wouldn’t even get the chance to go.

And it’s all her fault.

“Mom?”

The obvious confusion and concern in Huey’s voice is enough to send her tumbling over the edge all over again, fresh tears springing up at the thought of having to explain what happened to her- to his kids.

Scrooge hurries them away, and she tries not to listen to the hushed explanation, the startled gasps, and she has to cover her ears for the rest. She can’t stand it.

It’s all her fault.

“DELLA!”

‘What?’

There’s no mistaking that voice.

Her head snaps up so fast she’s half sure she’s given herself whiplash. Even through blurred eyesight, she knows that silhouette, that outfit, that stupid hat. She blinks, sniffing and scrubbing at her face with her sleeve, hardly daring to believe.

It shouldn’t be possible, there’s no way it’s possible. She saw it, she saw him fall, saw the flash of lightning, the empty space where he had been only moments before. She watched her own brother die. So how was he standing ten feet in front of her, laughing as he’s tackled by several small and colourful blurs?

A hand appears in front of her face and she looks up into the stunned face of her uncle. He looks almost as much of a mess as she feels, tearstains tracking down his cheeks and spotting on his coat.

“I think it might be best if we just don’t question it,” he says, helping her to her feet.

His hands are shaking as he holds hers tightly, but she doesn’t comment; it can’t be any worse than her own trembling limbs. They turn back to Donald, who’s ended up sat on the floor under the collective weight of the kids. He’s got a tearful Louie on his shoulder and several kids wrapped around his torso as he struggles to his feet, and Della can see him mouthing a headcount as he takes them all in.

“I swear every time we see you, you have more children.”

She hadn’t even noticed Panchito and José just beside him, grins wide and eyes twinkling with amusement and, in José’s case, something else that she can’t quite place. Donald just laughs at Panchito’s observation, the sound sweet as honey and causing even more tears to well up all round. The pure relief that sweeps through her is almost enough to make her knees give way again, but Scrooge’s hand gripping hers and Beakley’s arm still around her shoulders is just enough to keep her grounded.

Then he catches her eye.

“Hey Dells.”

The kids must see something in her face, cause they have to good sense to dart out of the way just moments before Della hurls herself at her brother. They almost topple backwards, but Donald is able to keep them just about upright while Della just focuses on wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. His arms circle her waist, holding her just as tightly. The tears are streaming freely now, but she’s beyond caring. He can yell at her about ruining his shirt later and she’ll just take it with a grin.

“You idiot!” she yells, her voice muffled by his shoulder, “I thought you were dead!”

“For a minute, so did I,” he says into her hair, “how about we just call it even?”

The soft jibe only makes her laugh, and she holds him just that little bit tighter.

Miracles do happen, and in the end all that matters is love, family and adventure.

But if he thinks she’s going to let him go galivanting off on some adventure without her now, then he’d better think again.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What do you think would happen if one of the Cullens realized they might also be "in love" with Bella during Twilight along side Ed. Mates be damned (not like their marriages are gonna last anyway), and everyone's on the table (just 1 love rival, not at the same time buuuuut could you imagine the chaos? *cough*). The usual Bella eaten/killed by Eddy boi is def on the table obvie, but like do you think there's a chance he might concede to one of his family (or just any other alternatives)? -Sw

Oh boy.

Why I Don’t Think This Is a Possibility

That said, I have to caveat that I don’t think this is a very likely path (sorry, I cannot resist).

It’s true I don’t think any of the Cullen relationships will last in the long term, but I also don’t think they’re inclined to cheat on one another or fall apart at a moment’s notice. They’ve made it this long, several decades, but more, none of them realizes anything is lacking from their respective relationship. 

Carlisle and Esme are very devoted to one another and don’t realize they have fundamentally conflicting values. Jasper and Alice think they fulfil each other’s needs and don’t realize that they share nothing in common. Rosalie and Emmett’s is the healthiest relationship in the house but don’t see their major issues (Emmett doesn’t really support or understand Rosalie and Rosalie loves Emmett mostly for his love of her).

My point being, none of them are going to realize it’s not working out anytime soon. They’re going to need a catalyst, and per the end of Twilight, one is coming. Either a confrontation with the Volturi occurs, Renesmee decides to leave, the Cullen lifestyle changes, or things with Bella go awry. It can be any number of things, and it will happen given time, but at the start of Twilight we haven’t hit that point yet.

There’s also the fact that of the Cullens, only Edward would do this nonsense, and even for him it takes Bella’s delicious blood to grab his attention. When she was an ordinary human, he was not interested in the slightest, not even in her gift.

Each of the Cullens (Sans Alice and Esme) is completely baffled by Edward’s emotional whiplash and attachment to this human girl he doesn’t even know. Bella only becomes a vague concept to them when she enters as a serious fixture in Edward’s life, but even then, they really don’t know what to think.

No one in the family will do what Edward did in Twilight. Look at this girl they don’t even know and say “Ah, yes, I’m in love.” 

Now, that out of the way, let’s play ball.

Alice

This actually will work out shockingly well if only because I suspect Alice will come up with the pragmatic solution of “sharing”.

First, Alice is by far the closest Cullen member to Edward. He holds her in high esteem, feels a strong sense of kinship with her, actually confides in her, and sees her as a very close friend. Edward looks up to Carlisle and adores Esme, but it’s not the same.

If Alice sees herself as getting together with Bella I don’t think she’d see this as mutually exclusive to Edward having Bella. Alice cares deeply for Edward’s happiness, far more than she does Bella’s general existence, and I think the idea of entering a joint marriage with Edward and Bella would be very appealing to her.

She’d have to ease Edward into it, of course, as he’d balk at the very idea of it, but I think he’d see it as a strengthening of his and Alice’s relationship as well as having the wonderful Bella. Better yet, Alice can be physical with Bella while Edward can go compose music about their love.

As it is this... This is kind of what happens in canon.

Alice tells Edward that not only is he in love with Bella, but that Bella is going to be her best friend, so he better not muck it up. She has to ease him into the idea of being in love with Bella throughout the first part of Twilight. Then, when the relationship is solidified, Alice is right there introducing herself as Bella’s new BFF. Bella’s friendship with Alice throughout the series is extremely homoerotic and I imagine it remains so after Breaking Dawn.

Edward is very pleased that Bella counts Alice as her best friend, Alice being far and away his favorite sibling and the one he approves of Bella spending time with (generally, when she’s not foiling his schemes). 

I don’t think Alice and Bella will ever have sex, per se, but I imagine they remain quite physical with each other and Edward looks on with approval thinking to himself that this is how all female friendships should be.

And if Jasper has the nagging suspicion his wife is cheating on him then he’s not functioning quite well enough to put it into words just yet.

Carlisle

Edward would lose his mind.

First, Edward is very into Carlisle, and for all he insists his feelings are filial they sound remarkably romantic. I’d drop a quote, but it’s pretty much every time Edward thinks of Carlisle in Midnight Sun. More than that, Carlisle is the man Edward aspires to be, someone he sees as profoundly more good than he could ever hope to be.

Edward projects a very similar personality onto Bella herself.

So, I imagine if Carlisle sits Edward down and says, “Actually, Edward, I have fallen in love with this Bella” Edward feels very conflicting things all at once.

On the one hand, this means Esme/Carlisle is collapsing. Edward personally brought those two together and adores the idea of their relationship. Their relationship is what he hopes his and Bella’s will look like and is to him the married ideal of a perfect Mother and a perfect Father.

Carlisle/Esme alone falling apart would give him a complete existential crisis. That’s not allowed to happen. 

And then that Carlisle wants Bella Swan for himself?! Edward would be faced with the immediate,horrifying, thought that for all Carlisle is a vampire he would be the perfect man for saint like Bella. Carlisle and Bella deserve one another, would be perfect together, and Edward should not begrudge them that.

On the other hand, Edward himself is in love with Bella, and while he thought he could nobly leave her, now he has to nobly stand to the side and watch as Carlsile and her marry. It’d be a very romantic and tragic thing to do, but there’s leaving Bella to her human life, and then watching her up front for the rest of eternity while bitterly hiding his feelings.

More, Carlisle will turn her. If Bella is his true love, then there’s no question of that. Edward’s seen where this goes with Emmett. He will destroy Bella Swan to be with her forever, and Edward will have to live with the shell of Bella Swan staring back at him, fucking his father, forever.

I imagine Edward desperately pretends to concede to Carlisle, to be happy for the pair of them, but as things progress and Bella’s permanent position in the family looks more and more likely, he loses his mind. He’ll snap and there is no telling what he might do.

My money’s on him mercy killing Bella while she’s still human behind Carlisle’s back. He’s sobbing while he does it, but he just can’t let Bella be tarnished by vampirism, and now he will carry this tragic, terrible, secret for the rest of time.

Whether Carlisle was going to turn her or not is up to debate. Given he turned none after Emmett, I think he learned his lesson from Rosalie and would be more than willing to let Bella go, even if he loves her, should it mean he would not force something she does not want and does not understand upon her.

That said, I think he’d never tell Edward his feelings for Bella, as that would ruin Edward’s fledgling relationship with the girl. This is Edward’s first brush with love and seems to be the only romantic love he’ll ever have. Edward has been so miserable for so long that Carlisle would easily give up his own happiness for Edward.

So, more likely, Twilight would happen anyway and Carlisle would spend the entire time being utterly miserable and pretending he’s perfectly fine. LOOK HOW HAPPY HE IS, ESME.

Emmett

Edward tattles to Rosalie immediately.

He loves Emmett, but he knows Emmett can’t possibly be serious about this, and more, fundamentally doesn’t understand how wonderful and amazing Bella is. He wants to turn her into a vampire, clearly, Emmett doesn’t know what’s best for the girl.

More, a man who would so easily break his marriage vows (even to Rosalie), does not deserve Bella Swan.

Edward watches Rosalie and Emmett’s marriage utterly disintegrate with a juice box filled with mountain lion blood and swoops in on Bella while Emmett is thoroughly distracted. Edward then gaslights Bella into believing Emmett is dangerous and despises her, making Emmett the new and improved Jasper.

Esme

Esme would never tell Edward or likely even realize her feelings for Bella herself. If she did though, she would give up the possibility of a future with Bella Swan in a heartbeat for Edward’s happiness, which means everything to her.

Esme will have no regrets, won’t even smile sadly at Bella, because she has Carlsile as her consolation prize and she gets to see the joy in both Bell and Edward’s faces which is far more important than having Bella to herself.

Esme would live vicariously through Bella and Edward’s relationship as well as the very existence of Renesmee.

Like Alice, this is one of those things that’s pretty much canon. I won’t say anything for Esme’s feelings, it’s more that Esme ships Bella with Edward (and mostly because Edward himself comes to obsess over her), but she does seem to vicariously get her joy through their nuclear family within the Cullen family.

Esme is a very strange person.

Jasper

Edward would attempt to murder Jasper or at least severely injure him. Jasper would be the ultimate threat to Bella, not even a man unworthy of her but not a man at all, and exactly what Edward needs to protect Bella against.

Alice tries to stop the fight, to no avail, and Edward will ultimately lose (despite all his confidence). I imagine Jasper doesn’t kill him, but tears apart his limbs, and uses Edward’s lack of mobility to kidnap and then turn Bella.

Bella has no idea what’s happening and the next thing she knows she’s a vampire and Jasper is telling her they have to leave the area (as he must now leave the coven).

Edward tries to track them down for the rest of eternity. He will get vengeance upon Jasper and save Bella this terrible demonic existence forced upon her. Of course, he ends up lost in Rio.

Rosalie

Edward would tell her that her feelings cannot possibly be real. Bella is a woman. More, Rosalie is unworthy of Bella in every possible regard, even more so than Edward himself.

Basically, Edward would lay into Rosalie in a way that he never has before with all of his venom. He will do everything he can to sabotage Bella’s opinion of Rosalie before Rosalie can even get a word in edgewise. He is successful at it due to Bella’s perilously low self esteem (much the reason he was successful with this endeavor in canon).

Rosalie and Edward get in a vicious fight and I imagine Rosalie eventually confronts Bella, making an opportunity to do so, and both warns her away from Edward, tells her everything, and offers to turn her despite Rosalie’s own mixed experiences.

Rosalie and Edward probably then fight and it quickly turns into something that’s very serious. If Edward wins, he murders Rosalie in the heat of the moment, and then leaves the coven in horror over what Carlisle must think of him now. If Rosalie wins... I don’t think she will, she cares for Edward far too much and would never truly be able to aim to kill or maim.

Edward disappears, drowning in his self hatred, and returns to find Bella Swan at some later date unable to resist the call of her scent. Depending where she is in her life, he likely murders her human husband if she has one and dvours her, as Alice prophesied so long ago.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

I love Painting Red Madonnas! I also love Aro, and while Aro is admittedly...A Lot, it does make me sad that Marcus and Caius are generally depicted (not just in your fic, even Bella suggests it in New Moon) as being all, "Ugh" whenever he talks. Has the man had any fulfilling conversations with anybody since Carlisle left? Obviously Marcus would be uninterested, but Caius? What do you think? (This is now a general question about how you envision the relationship among the leaders, oops)

First off, I’m glad you like my story so much!

Second, this is actually a lot to unpack.

I guess we’ll start on how I see their relationship in general and then move on to why Caius and Marcus both just “ugh” whenever Aro gets going.

I actually think the three Volturi leaders have a very deep bond. First, I think people make Chelsea out to be far more powerful than she actually is. Rather than go into too many details, check out this post. Chelsea is very useful, but more in the sense of changing your priorities slightly or else making someone seem more tolerable or more aggravating. She can’t make something from nothing nor can she render something into nothing.

So, these are three guys who have done this never ending, frankly kind of ridiculous and a little thankless, job for thousands of years that a lot of people just don’t get. (I’d get into why I think the Volturi law is vital for human society stability in Twilight, and that I believe the Volturi are doing this not only for vampires but mostly for mankind, but that’s a post on its own). To stick with it that long requires not just Chelsea, and not simply a shared very strong ideal that never wavers or dims, but a very close sense of friendship, trust, and fraternity.

More, these guys came together with no common bonds, separated from each other by hundreds of years, and well came up with this.

My point being, all three of them I imagine, are very close. They call each other brother, Marcus actually married Aro’s beloved sister, the only thing he took with him from his human life, and here they are three thousand years later. Even Marcus who, albeit with the help of Chelsea, had felt anything less for Aro would undoubtedly killed himself by now.

That said, at this point they’re a bit more like family than I’d say friends. Family, barring grave circumstances, you know entirely too well and you’re stuck with them through thick and thin. They know the best of you and they know the worst of you and you can count on them still being there the next day. This means you know all their annoying habits, quirks, and more and you can’t leave.

Caius is a barbarian king who has no patience for subtlety or gray areas. Someone breaks the law ergo you murder the shit out of them. Done. Let’s go eat dinner. (I imagine Aro despairs of him).

Marcus I imagined, before the death of Didyme, was the voice of mercy in the group. (I could get into why I think this but it’s very headcanony and has to do with a) marrying Didyme b) what little we do see of him in canon c) the fact that Aro has to play the weird role of middle cop/good cop to Caius’ bad cop which makes it likely there was an original, missing, good cop voice). He would be the one advocating for understanding the circumstances of criminals, considering mercy, etc. (which is a very necessary voice to have as much as Caius’ voice is needed). This, I imagine, would have irritated Caius to no end and probably frustrated Aro at times as well. 

Then, of course, Didyme died, Marcus became depressed and barely functional and now Caius and Aro just have no idea what to do with him except that hope that one day he might snap out of it. He never does.

They all have their quirks, just like the rest of us, and things that probably irritate the hell out of the other two.

Which brings us back to Aro.

Aro is, as you mention, a lot.

My god, the man has so much energy. We see very little of him in canon but his enthusiasm and energizer bunny nature practically hops out of the page. Not only that, but his moods sometimes change so fast it’ll give you emotional whiplash. Even if you really really really like Aro, that’s a lot to handle for even a few hours.

Now try handling that for a thousand years. 

Now, try not just handling that, but Aro, with that same enthusiasm, rambling nonsense about Carlisle Cullen for centuries. Bringing up Carlisle Cullen is like accidentally mentioning someone’s beloved dog. Sure, the dog is great, the pictures are cute, but suddenly you’re listening to someone spending hours talking about their goddamn dog. You may like this person, love this person, but how much of this can you take? 

And remember, he likely does talk this much about Carlisle. First, he brings up Carlisle like twenty times when Edward and company are in Volterra. Second, Jane drops a hint that she’s been hearing about Carlisle nearly non-stop for the past few hundred years and was convinced Aro had to be exaggerating. Because this guy can’t actually exist.

And not just that, but I always imagine that conversations with Aro are a bit like talking with Abe Simpson. He gets on these rambling, nonsensical, boring tangents (half of which are about Carlisle Cullen). Aro can be your greatest friend in the whole, wide, world and I am hard pressed to believe you could willingly sit through thousands of years of that without some measure of “Ugh” coming through.

That said, I think Carlisle did sit through Aro’s rambling nonsense and actively enjoyed it. Carlisle in canon gave none of the “ugh” indication that Marcus and Caius gave off. And that’s why Carlisle is Aro’s best friend and part of the reason Aro’s head over heels. 

[house-of-cakes]

Jamais Vu

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Prev || Next Chapter 22: And I Oop! 🤭 Jungkook x Reader: enemy to lovers AU

Word count: 1739

Warnings: Swearing, an over confident douchebag and Y/N and JK are major teases Premise: “There’s an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It’s when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger… Nothing is ever familiar” – Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

AKA Jungkook goes in search of the girl who got him expelled.

It’s embarrassing how long this chapter took me to write  🤦‍♀️ If you would like to give feedback or be tagged in this story please send me an ask/message 😊 Tagged list: @inspinkyring​ @betysotelo18​ @kardia-apo-marmelada​ @casspirit0705​ @preciouschimine​ @therealsugababe​  @lucedelsole97​ @deolly​ @lexy9716​  @thesweetest-peas​ @sannsia​ ​ ​

STORY CONTINUED BELOW THE CUT

A large group of excitable females crowded one end of the bar as the man behind it took two bottles and spun it around with dramatic flare before pouring a generous amount of alcohol into a shaker. Squeals of delight erupted from the crowd as he threw a handful of ice cubes into the air and successfully caught them all behind his back. He finished off the flashy routine by placing the shaker top back on the canister and entertain his audience one final time by dancing in body rolls while he shook up his concoction.

“Who’s thirsty?” He yelled out and in an instant the females grew feral with enthusiasm as they pushed and shoved each other, trying to be the first person to gain his attention.

Y/N observed the scene from the other side of the bar as she waited for her turn to be served. A girl with fire engine red hair managed to wrestle her competitors off and secured the position at the front of the bar.  She patiently stood before him, hoping her pleading eyes was enough for him to convince him to invite her for a drink.

Y/N’s nose crinkled in distaste. While she didn’t know the red head by name (she went by the name Red), she had seen the girl around the Basement and knew enough to know she deserved better than him.  

“I’m absolutely parched.” Her tone was slow and drawn out in attempts to sound sultry.

Y/N couldn’t contain the fake gagging noise she made. In her eyes the scenario was completely cringeworthy…maybe Red did deserve him.

‘I wouldn’t be caught dead chasing a guy like BeatBox Jae.’ She thought to herself.

Unfortunately, the sound she had made was loud enough to catch Jae’s attention.

An overwhelming amount of excitement welled in his chest when he realised he had the Kim Y/N in his sights. He turned his attention back to Red and gave her the most charming smile as he could muster as he made another big show of slowly pouring out two drinks.

“Sorry, bar’s closed.” He said with no hint of remorse then picked up the drinks and made his way over to Y/N, leaving the humiliation to sink in with poor Red.

“Here.” Jae said as he set the frosty martini glass in front of Y/N “I made you a drink, Beautiful.”

Y/N scoffed in his face and pushed the drink to the side, her blatant act of rejection did not even damper his mood.

“You’re an asshole you know, right? I can’t believe you did that to her!”

Jae nonchalantly shrugged off the comment as he took a sip from his drink. He didn’t care about the feelings or problems of others…if he wanted something, he knew that as the Maknae of The Basement Boys there wasn’t much that was unattainable by him. With a face that looked like it was carved by angels and an ego that was extensively fed his adoring fans of guys and girls…Jae was a lethal combination of charisma and arrogance.

It was exactly this attitude that repelled Y/N from him. “Don’t be like, Beautiful…let me take you out on a date and show you how much I like you.” “Oh really?” Y/N leant forward so that elbows were resting on the bar and cupped her face in her hands, making sure to looked up at him from under her long lashes with a cute pout. “Tell me three things you like.”  

Y/N was never discreet about her dislike towards Jae which only made him want her more. The fact that she was now showing genuine interest, made Jae feel like he was finally getting a head in a race he was lagging in.

“That’s easy… You’re hot as hell.” He said with enthusiasm and raised his hand so he could count the reasons as he listed them off “…cute too and the most gorgeous thing in the world.” He grinned proudly to himself, feeling satisfied that he answered the question well.

“Is that all?” “You only asked for three…did you want me to say super sexy too?” His response was smug

Y/N had to force a smile to hide her grimace. Of course the only traits he favoured were those of her appearance. She knew better than to ask those kinds of questions, especially to someone like Jae but once in a while she had the unstoppable urge to remind herself that men were trash.

“Sorry I don’t date guys who fuck around while they have girlfriends.” Y/N pulled herself of the bar and broke the illusion of interest she had Jae under. Though her abrupt change of attuite was enough to give him whiplash he was able to recover quickly.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Beautiful.” “That’s not how I see it.” The tension grew thick in the air as they stared each other down.

For regulars of The Basement, it was common knowledge that Jae was one to sleep around. However, with her sharp observation skills as The Shopkeeper, Y/N was able to piece together his hidden shame. From what she could piece together it seemed that only the members of The Basement Boys were aware of this convoluted secret and the matter was kept within the crew.

“Don’t be silly Beautiful.” Jae was the first to speak, breaking the tension by playfully ruffling her hair and returning back to his same jovial self “Besides if anyone has to worry about significant others it should be me…your boyfriend has been giving us death glares.” “What?” Y/N asked trying to figure out who in the world he was talking about. Nods his head in the direction behind her before revealing who he is talking about. “SeokJin’s big buff cousin over there.” she turned around spotted a Jungkook looking disgruntled standing a few people back in the line for the bar. Their eyes met briefly before he turned the other way, pretending he wasn’t watching Y/N. “That’s not my boyfriend.” she said rolling her eyes “He’s just angry because he’s a sore loser.” “Thank God.” Jae exclaims as he clutches his chest overdramatically “I thought I had competition for a second.” “You don’t have to worry about that.” Y/N reassures him with a smirk “You actually act to be in the race to have competition.” She cheekily blows him a kiss and leaves him, no longer interested in getting a drink.

Y/N was well aware of the type of person Jae was, so never in a million years would she fall victim to his charms. If anything, she found it enjoyable to shut him down.

‘That should take him down a notch.’ She thought to herself

Jungkook was still facing away from Y/N as she drew closer to passing him on her way back to the balcony, she had every intention to walk by and ignore his existence and yet she had the unstoppable desire to mess with him too. Still high off her interaction with Jae, her body moved on its own accord and before she knew it her body was crashing into his as she purposely tripped herself. As if on instinct Jungkook was quick to wrap his arms around her to prevent her from falling.

“If you wanted me in your arms, all you had to do was ask…there’s not need to trip me over” Jungkook’s eyes widen at her accusation which caused her to chuckle. His arms dropped from around her and he stepped back to create space between them “I don’t blame you though…I am pretty irresistible in my new shirt.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He spat out in disgust “I don’t want anything to do with you, especially after I saw you help humiliate that red headed girl.” “Um…Sorry what?” Y/N’s mouth hung open in disbelief, he didn’t really believe she had anything to do with that? “Don’t act like you weren’t involved in that. I bet you couldn’t handle not being the center of attention for once, that’s why you called that bartender over to you.” “Excuse you? I’m not sure what you saw there but you must really have your head up your ass if you think that I had anything to do with that.” “Oh pah-lease!” Jungkook’s arms were crossed defensively “You might have everyone fooled but I see you for who you are… you’re nothing more than a spoilt princess!”

‘A spoilt princess?’

That comment really struck a nerve with Y/N. She had been called many unfavourable things in her lifetime and she had never been offended because to some degree the things they said were true so it never bothered her…she felt there was no point in getting upset with the truth, she accepted every aspect of herself - whether it be good or bad. However to be called a princess and a spoilt princess at that really pushed all the wrong buttons within her.

Y/N refused to conform to her mother’s notions of the importance of beauty and the concept of using her physical attributes to have things handed to her. Y/N valued independence, intelligence and hard work…to have this stranger discredit her like that was deeply insulting to her.

“Look here you jerkfaced asshole.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she scowled up at the tall male towering above her. “Maybe if you were a better competitor, you’d be able to win once in a while and then you wouldn’t have to take your passive aggression out on me.”

Jungkook couldn’t hide the grin that had taken over his face, even when Y/N was losing against him she had always managed to keep her emotions in check. This is the first time he had seen her flustered and openly frustrated…He enjoyed seeing her lose her composure.

“Whatever you say…” Jungkook closed the distance between them so that he could lean closer to her “…Princess” 

Y/N stiffened when she heard his smooth husky voice whisper in her ear, stirring an unfamiliar feeling of anticipation and delight within her. Those feelings quickly turned to repulsion when her brain had finally caught up to her and realised who she had been talking to. She let out a sound of disgust and pushed him away from her.

“Go fuck yourself, Asshole!” she spat before turning to leave him.

Jungkook watched Y/N storm off as he buzzing with satisfaction of knowing he had be the one to get under her skin for once.

[kendrixtermina]

The Basic Assumptions of the Object Relations Triads

Rejection Triad:

“You can’t interact with anyone unless you have a reason”

2 Response: “...so I will make a reason”. Hence the concern with wanting to be good & helpful & unselfish since it’s important that there be a legitimate reason.

8 Response: “...but I will talk to you anyways, because I want to.” - So they tend to have a “bad” self-image & an expectation that they won’t get anything out of anyone without some measure of struggle.

5 Response: “Oh, ok.” - & they they actually act like you can’t talk to anyone without a reason, so they mostly don’t & cultivate skills both to function by themselves and to have some reason/justification to stick around.

Attachment Type Mindset:

“You have to interact with everyone unless you have a reason not to”

3 Response: “...unless it’s a worthless person. I don’t have to listen to losers” So they might follow the lead of admirable individuals (respected parents, mentors, celebrities, success stories etc.) & become concerned with not becoming one of those losers that no one has to listen to.  

6 Response: “...unless they’re untrustworthy. I don’t wanna be bamboozled” – Hence the quest to find the truthful & trustworthy peeps so you don’t listen to the untrustworthy ones, & to be a trustworthy person worth hearing oneself.

9 Response: “Okay.” There isn’t as much of a ‘sorting alghorithm’ so you get a person who finds it hard to take sides. They rarely say no but when they do it’s usually because of an important personal boundary, so you can’t get them to budge (I learned this the hard way from annoying my brother. My gremlin self must have been annoying indeed to exhaust his angelic patience)

The Frustration Type mindset took me the longest to encapsulate/verbalize – at first I thought you could put it as not needing a reason for either arriving or leaving (at least with 4 and 7 you can sort of see how they can quickly get infatuated but also quickly get dissatisfied & leave), but I think it’s most succintly rendered as

“Everything is crap”

1 Response: “So it is up to me to un-crap it”. Cue the huge sense of feeling responsible for everything and everyone.

4 Response: “I must find something real, meaningful and non-crap somewhere.” So you get both the scathing critical side (“this turned out to be crap after all,  again!”) and the romanticism/longing/envy – (“Maybe If I it wasn’t for X thing in my life, I could access the non-crap.”)

7 Response: “This is Fine.” Since nothing is reliable, you better have extra options. But also since there’s no expectation of the non-crap being elsewhere, you have to be okay with the ‘crap world’. Hence why they sometimes don’t like complaints/negativity – if the dissapointing here & now is all there is, saying its crap is like saying there will never be anything good.

You might also try to group the types by these responses, like so:

Accept it : 9,7, 5 – these 3 types certainly share a tedency to downplay bad stuff that happens to them or talk about it without their tone of voice changing.

Change it By Force: 8, 3, 1 – these all appear to be peeps who cannot stop moving/working

Find Exceptions: 4, 2, 6 – The most emotional/dramatic types, maybe the polarity between the assumed default & the “exception” causes whiplash

It annoys the heck out of me that it doesn’t neatly break down by centers so I’m not sure at all that I am remotely onto something, I’m just experimenting here.

Then again I don’t see how you could “change it by force” with concepts in your head (they don’t touch the outer world), or “accept it” with acutely painful feelings (you’d need to filter them with some other center), and “finding” implies processing beyond your immediate physical experience, you don’t have to “find” something you already see.

It’s interesting that each of those groups has an introverted type and extroverted one & a sort of in-between one. Maybe that’s what determines which exact type you get after your ‘base assumption’ is fixed during babyhood.

For example, it would be very hard for an extrovert to employ the 5 strategy or for an introvert to do the 7 thing.

Though of course, even how you respond to your parent’s mirroring or lack thereof might be down to inborn temperament.

Example 1:  a baby is very energetic & extroverted, so almost certainly, Mommy won’t have time to give them attention some point. So the baby gets all frustrated and becomes a 7.

crucially that baby would not be extroverted because theyre a 7, but theyd be a 7 because theyre extroverted. 

Example 2: A baby’s ability to spot social cues is naturally lower. Mama can smile at them & cuddle them all she wants, this baby will just take a little longer to catch on, leading to some signal interference. This baby becomes a 5.

So the property would emerge from both the inborn temperament and the external situations because the former partially creates the latter – If it was entirely down to the environment you’d expect a 10th enneagram type for people with perfectly fine non traumatic childhoods. But maybe more rare mbti/enneagram combos could be down to strong environmetal pressure. 

though it’s clear that the baby’s outcome in both cases would be worse if Mama never gave them attention or smiles at all, or very rarely.

[nonstoplover]

accidental reunion ~ joe liebgott (band of brothers)

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pairing: joe liebgott x female reader

short summary: they met in Austria on V-J Day, it was just one night, they still can't forget the other

words: 2.4K

a/n: not gonna say much just that i'd do anything for joe liebgott, even if it includes giving up my whole life

taglist: @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @50svibes @pennyllanne @liebgotttme @nowinnablewar

One fun night on one of Easy's last nights in Austria. With lots of drinks, games, and the company of residents of the small village that was Kaprun who were willing to spend some celebratory time now that the war was actually, finally over.

It was undoubtedly one of the best nights the soldiers had in the past couple years - at least for Liebgott it definitely was. He accidentally bumped into a girl about his age in the small pub when on his way to get a new round of alcohol and then spent the rest of the night with her.

They never shared full names or addresses with each other, all they got to know were mentions of small things dropped by accident. Now Joe's back in San Francisco, back to life in peace and he can't get the girl out of his head. There's nothing he regrets more than not asking for only these basic pieces of information. He let the possibly only good thing that war gave him slip through his fingers.

There's not a day he doesn't think of her. He sees the sparkle of her eyes in the street lights, the colour of her hair in the polychrome autumn leaves, hears her giggle in a random girl's voice on the street that makes him do a hopeful double take only to be left disappointed a moment later. When he's in a pub on a night out, the swirling booze in his glass reminds him of her and that one night they got to spend together. When a young woman gets in his cab with hair similar to hers, his heart always skips a beat as he looks back over his shoulder with sudden high hopes, his eyes always connecting with a pair of orbs that are clearly not hers.

He doesn't even know why he feels this way - he truly doesn't know her after all. Still, it's like in a matter of only a couple hours a connection has been created, one that's about impossible to break. If he believed in soulmates, maybe he'd say that it is just that. But he doesn't.

So he just lets the days pass with the occasional but somehow still almost constant thoughts of the girl. Every other week or when he just has the next day off, he might try to forget about her, find some inner peace with another woman, even though he knows that the next morning he'll wake up with her first name on the tip of his tongue just the same.

(y/n), on the other side of the planet tries to go on with her life after the war - she truly does. But still, it feels like there's nothing left for her in Austria anymore. Everything's changed. The village, the people living there, even her own perspective and thoughts on life has changed. Enough to help her make the decision of moving to the United States.

To her family she says it's only because of the seemingly endless opportunities there, in the process trying to convince even herself that it's not because of the fluffy brown haired paratrooper she met on the night of V-J Day.

Of course it's not because of him, all she knows about the young man is that his first name is Joe, that his fellow soldiers called him Lieb or something like that once or twice throughout the night, that he wanted to be a cab driver back in America, and that he was from San Francisco. It's nowhere enough information to give up her whole life and start a completely new one on the opposite side of the world.

Still, somehow it is enough for her, and it also gives her a starting point when six months after they first - and by far last - met she appears in the enormous American city all by herself, all her life packed up in two suitcases she drags behind herself, heart beating frantically as she eyes the buildings and hears the unimaginable street noise around her. To say she's anxious is an understatement - hell, she doesn't even speak English that good.

After the first and most important things are settled - a place to live in, a job to earn money with -, she's unable to stop herself and flips the telephone book up and calls a few of the cab companies around the city, trying to ask about him. But seemingly there are too many Joe's around who are driving taxis, and after the fourth or fifth unsuccessful try that leaves her feeling all stupid and naive she gives up.

She tries hard to fit in, makes friends at work and with the two girls she's rented the room she's now living in from, spends every evening improving her knowledge of the language. The more time passes, the better she feels - and the more she feels like she belongs -, though the feeling of missing something from her life never goes away. The feeling of missing somebody, to be more precise.

About two months later one day she oversleeps and is in a hurry to get to work in time so she decides to catch a cab instead of her usual choice of travelling by public transport. Almost practically falling down to the seat as she scrambles inside, she's already saying the address whilst also trying hard to catch her breath - she can only hope the driver can understand her panting words.

She closes her eyes, pressing her palm to her forehead and focusing on slowing her heartbeat back down to normal. Only half a minute passes though before she leans back in her seat and lets her eyelids open again, and her glance subconsciously falls on the cab driver.

Silently examining his features from diagonally and behind she can't help but feel a weird feeling tingle in her chest, as if her whole existence has suddenly found something familiar. Her eyes move back up on his profile, on the elegant line of his nose and the way a strand of brown hair has delicately fallen in front of his forehead.

"Joe," the name she still hears in her sleep every night leaves her lips in an almost breathless, subconscious whisper.

Then the next moment his head whips around - so fast that she can't help but worry he'll have whiplash - and the oh so familiar eyes connect with hers.

"(y/n)?" Comes the equally disbelieving, quietly muttered answer from him.

He remembers her.

Suddenly all the frustration of leaving her home behind and moving across the world, all the frustration of trying to find him feels worth it. She's found him. Or has he found her? It was most likely fate bringing the two back together, giving them one last chance to see what they would do.

"What are you doing here?" Joe exclaims excitedly, his glance moving back and forth frantically between the road in front of him and her face.

"I moved here," (y/n) shrugs.

"You what?"

She only giggles in response to his reaction - she's too overwhelmed with happiness to actually say something.

"It's good to see you," he admits, mentally adding that it's not only good, more like the best thing that has ever happened to him. He knows he can't just attack her like that, she probably didn't move here because of him anyway so he keeps his mouth shut to keep these thougths in.

"You too," she beams at him in the rear-view mirror before quietly adding one more thought, mainly to herself. "By now I thought I'll never find you."

And just like that the previous thought almost fully disappears from his mind, his breath hitching in his throat. "You tried to find me?" Joe asks with a smug grin on his face, one that's supposed to hide the swirl of his true and not at all like him emotions.

"Well, yeah, of course," the girl shrugs sheepishly, earning a joyous hum from him as a wordless reply.

For a couple long seconds they stay in silence, both of them deep in their thoughts as their minds try to process the sudden emergence of the other. Some previously never felt tension rises slowly in the air of the car, suddenly neither knows what to say or what to do. What they've been dreaming about for more than half a year now has just come true - and they weren't ready for it.

"Where're you going?" Joe speaks up again to break the quiet. "I mean, why are going there, 'cause I know where you're going."

This earns him a mental slaps from himself for behaving so stupid. What is he doing? Why is he like this? Where's his usual confident cockiness?

"Work."

Maybe it was worth it, coming here just to see him again, but there's no guarantee that he hasn't found someone else by now - even if he does remember her - or that he would even want to see her again after today. Doubt reappears in her mind, keeping her from speaking her mind and ask him about all the things she's been dying to ask him ever since that night back in Austria.

"When did you arrive here?"

"Two months ago."

"Sorry if I'm asking too much, I'll stop," Joe glances at her in the mirror, taking her reserved, short answers wrong, thinking that she just doesn't want to talk with him.

"No, no, it's fine!" (y/n)'s quick to reassure, eyes opened wide. "I should be the one apologising for not answering more or asking back. I'm just- ugh, I don't know. I've been thinking about this moment for so long that now I'm scared it's just a dream again. I don't want to get too empathized in case I'll only wake up in my bed again."

"This is real life, I swear," Joe chuckles - her words have managed to calm him down again. He lets go of the steering wheel with one hand and reaches back above the car seat - nothing but a simple signal towards her.

Mindlessly holding back her breath she raises a hand of her own and lets her skin bump into his for a short moment before daringly fully wrapping her fingers around his. An immediate smile takes over his features as he loosens into her touch.

"See? It's not a dream," he grins to himself, thumb moving over the back of her hand in soft small caresses.

"I'm glad it isn't," (y/n) giggles and Joe lets out a chuckle himself.

Before they could truly let go and enjoy the drive to the fullest, he pulls over outside a building that (y/n) realises as her work place when finally looking out the window.

Swiftly letting go of his hand she starts rummaging through her reticule to find her purse. When she pulls out the proper banknotes and tries to push them in his palm, he just shakes his head and moves his hand back to the steering wheel.

"You don't have to," he shrugs. "Take it as a welcome in San Francisco gift."

"Thank you," she mumbles with flushing cheeks before collecting her things and moving to get out of the cab.

She closes the door already when the sudden realisation hits her - she still doesn't know either his full name or his address, or anything for real.

Her hand rises almost on its own and her knuckles rap a fast rhythm against the glass next to the front seat. Joe's eyes are already on her as he scoots closer to roll down the window.

"I just wondered if I could have your phone number," she blurts out before she could think twice leaning down so her head pops back into the car.

With a raise of an eyebrow and a teasing smirk sitting upon his lips he nods in acknowledgement. "For the better part of this past minute I've been trying to find the courage to ask for your number."

(y/n) can feel the blood rush to her cheeks as she realises how truly straight-forward she's acted, but before she can raise a hand to hide her face in utter embarrassment, Joe starts moving around inside the car, and only a second or two later he retrieves his hand with a pen in-between his fingers. With his free hand he reaches out to gently grab her wrist and pulls it fully inside, pushing the material of her coat and long-sleeved blouse up towards her elbow.

Then he scribbles something on her soft skin, hissing whenever the pen doesn't want to write and he has to press the point of it deeper into her arm even though he really wouldn't want to hurt her even the slightest bit.

"There you go," his glance moves back up to her face when he finishes, winking at her.

(y/n) bites back a giggle before straightening back up, pulling out of the cab fully.

"See you later, Joe," she smiles at him one last time before turning around and rushing inside the building - the pinkness of her cheeks and the not erasable, wide smile on her face being true proofs of her emotions.

Later, when she's finally at her desk, coat removed and body gently slumping into the chair, her eyes catch sight of the writing again and she finally takes a better look at it. There's a phone number, completed with a simple Joe Liebgott and a don't you dare not call me under it.

A soft giggle escapes (y/n)'s lungs as she reads the last line, shaking her head in happy disbelief whilst also wondering how he could write so much in such a short time and without her even noticing. She must've been too entranced by the sparkling of his eyes, the way that one strand of hair fell and bounced in the air and how he - probably subconsciously - stuck the tip of his tongue out past his lips in concentration.

Then with a blissful sigh she lowers her arm again, eyes staring out of her head, looking at nothing in particular - instead picturing his face again inside her mind.

"Liebgott," she mutters to herself, tasting the name rolling down her tongue. She finally knows his name.

.::the end::.

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[fandom-monium]

For the Holidays - Part 5

Summary: In which there is no forgiveness or grudges. Only chance. “Okay, let’s try.”

WC: 1.3k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating, pining (so much pining), fluff, slight angst but not from unnecessary trauma, emotional-support Reader, reunion arc, song fic, FINAL PART

I can deal with the bad nights When I'm with my baby, yeah Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

“So, what’s the plan?”

Spencer runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure.”

He really isn’t. But that’s because he isn’t thinking.

It’s not often a brilliant mind like Spencer’s, usually if not always running, finds itself in a deep lull. For once, he’s not contemplating his next step or calculating how to get the best possible outcome. He’s not sprinting to be productive.

He’s just… existing.

What a rarity.

In the dark, deserted library time has slowed to a stop. If cheery holiday tunes and the murmur of guests didn't continue to float down the halls, it's almost like you're in your own little time pocket. He imagines this is an alternate reality, one consisting of only the two of you; there's no unsubs to hurt you or tear you apart, rip you away from each other when you’re just within reach. It’s just the two of you, existing together.

Add the catharsis of crying and you warm against his side, it's the perfect sedative. He's completely lethargic.

He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Unfortunately, no matter how much he wants to stay, all good things come to an end. Your little bubble pops when thunder crackles outside.

You watch him carefully. "Are you... ready to head back?"

Spencer nearly gives himself whiplash, snapping his head to you. You wince, not needing to see his face, hearing the betrayal in his voice. "What? Why would I want to go back?”

“Hey, it’s just a suggestion,” You put your hands up in defense, voice thoughtful as you shrug. “We did come for a reason, and here they are on a silver platter. I know it's not going exactly as you imagined it but—”

“Are you saying I should forgive them?” Forgive comes in a hiss.

You grimace. “What? No, that's not what I was saying. You heard Alexa.”

He glances away, and he knows you catch the slight turn of his head because you’re a profiler and you’re trained. He’s embarrassed; he’d been blindsided, disoriented, by his own rage and confusion that he couldn’t register anything passed ‘sorry’.

Understandable. You’d probably go into shock too if your childhood bullies dropped the retribution bomb over a decade later.

You continue, “Well if you'd been listening, you'd know they want to try to get to know you. Or at least understand you? I kind of get where they're coming from, but I don't think it'll do harm to give them a chance."

After a moment of deliberation, Spencer groans, "How is it between the two of us, you're the voice of reason?"

"Ha ha. Just because you're the genius doesn't make you always right."

"I never said I am!"

"Yeah but you were thinking it. Now come on, let's head back," You stand up and offer your hand. There’s a flash of lightning, and for a second he catches your eyes, steadfast and dancing in the dark. Maybe you didn’t give him an award-winning pep-talk, but the way you look at him makes him feel like he can survive the night at least.

You make him feel strong.

Here you are, in this dusty library. He’s had two break downs since arriving and you didn’t even blink.

You’ve matched him step for step, never faltering.

Another streak flashes from the window, and your lips curl into a shadow of a smile. "Operation: Holidate is a go."

Maybe. Just maybe he can match yours.

Yes. If he can survive tonight, everything will  be fine. It’s the least he can do, making you come all this way. Make your time here worth while.

And who knows? He might actually gain something from all this.

Taking your hand, Spencer gives in and you pull him up. He lets you guide him back to the entrance, your footsteps echoing through the hall as you make your way to the gym, music pounding over the rumbling thunder.

He doesn't let go. If you're bothered you say nothing.

—

"So Holidate? Is that what you're calling this?"

“Okay, you know what, Doctor? I’d like to see you come up with a better name.”

“Well—”

“That doesn’t involve some obscure reference to literature or philosophy or Star Trek.”

“Actually, I was going to suggest-”

“Or Doctor Who.”

“... Holidate it is.”

—

Christmas music fills the gym. The night has turned the elegance of the reunion into a nightclub as people dance with drunken laughter and off-key singing, and as far as you can tell, the group hadn't left the table, shouting over the music and exchanging hesitant looks. They have the decency to stand as you approach.

Spencer clutches your hand and you squeeze it. He squeezes back.

Harper opens her mouth, "Reid—"

"Before you say anything," Spencer clears his throat, gathering his thoughts. "I'm... sorry for what I said before. Not that it didn't need to be said, but I could have worded things better and I shouldn't have lashed out the way I did." Brown eyes harden, distrustful and terrified. "Did you mean what you said before? About making amends and trying to become friends?"

With a collective murmur, they nod, "Yes."

"And you understand I don't have to accept your apology. That I don't have to forgive you?"

"Yes, of course."

Pain flits across Alexa, Harper, and the team's faces, expressions grim. As if they don't like the possibility he won't forgive them but know better than to argue. That he at least has the right. Good.

Spencer's eyes roam over them. And under tinted lights he sees them.  He doesn’t feel like he’s been dropped back in time. He's no longer twelve and they're no longer teenagers. Formal dresses and suits don’t seem as strange on them anymore. His suit doesn't feel like it hangs off him, suddenly fitting, the watch over his sleeve nice and snug around his wrist, and his slacks less baggy.

They're adults; they've learned from their mistakes and are mature enough to own up to them. Mature enough to confront them.

Spencer swallows, takes a breath, before gripping your hand tighter. The storm roars above you, drowned out by With You This Christmas.

"Okay. Let's try."

Strange, the words leaving his lips a weight lifting off their shoulders. There's sighs of relief, and you take your seats at the table.

He feels your hand shift in his. You haven't let go since you dragged him out the library, his safe haven—God, how he misses it already—and his heart sighs as your thumb circles the back of his hand comfortingly.

So what if it's awkward? So what if it's uncomfortable and tense? So what if he wants to make a dash for the nearest exit?

Spencer knows this will be hard, the road to forgiveness. A part of him doesn't even want to try.

But as you meet his eyes and give him a reassuring smile, seemingly unbothered by his sweaty palms, Spencer tries to relax. Under your warm gaze every muscle, every part of him wound tight like a spring trap ready to go off seems to release.

You look at him like he can carry the world on his shoulders. If you asked him to, he certainly would try.

And he realizes it won't be so bad because you're here. You are here, you have no intention of leaving, and he has your full support.

Spencer can't think of a better person he'd rather have his back. No matter what happens, it'll be fine, as long as he's by your side.

Even if it’s just for the holidays.

AN: Status: Finished - 5/5. Open ending unlocked.

Yes, I did drop that title.

I remember bopping to I Don’t Care by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber and thinking this would be a good song fic for Spencer if he went to his hs reunion. Then this baby came along. Initially, it was supposed to be a one-shot but after 8k i thought it was better as a mini series.

I’m quite proud, leaving the ending open. Whether he forgives them or not is up to yall. 

The fake dating was always a bi-product to the plot! This was supposed to be about confronting his past okay.

Thank you for reading! See you in my next mini series!!

[mrpenguinpants]

Spider’s Thread [Reverse AU]

Possessive Red Xiao x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Commissioned for: @profoundwitchsalad

Art Credit: @ruoyeahs

Warning: Unhealthy relationships.

Prompt:

“You’ve ruined my life because I have a warped idea of what love is and I can’t live without you. But now you’re trying to leave me and I won’t allow that. You left me alive. You have a duty to live for me and by me. I’m not letting you go.”

---

Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ] [ Opposites Attract ] [ String Of Fate (Soulmate) ] [ Fainting ]

Link to original posts:  [Red! Xiao.] [Reverse AU]

[Masterlist]

Alatus was once told a story by his Master. A sinner who falls into hell is rewarded for his only good deed, choosing not to kill a spider. As his reward, a thread is lowered down for him to climb out of Hell. In the end, the sinner remains in Hell because he kicks aside others and the thread breaks. Alatus doesn't remember why his Master told him this story but he still empathizes with the sinner. He would have done the same or asked for this 'saviour' to extend their hand down instead. That way he could pull them down.

"Xiao? Are you okay?"

He slowly opens his jade eyes to see you hunch over, peering down above him, eyebrows furrowed together in concern as you reach down and softly tap his temple. He allows you to take a moment to do whatever you want with his face before he reaches up to grasp at your wrist gently, holding back on his want to rub circles into your skin. His reminiscing can wait for now.

"What is it?" he asks curtly, sitting up and resting his elbow on his raised knee. You pout at his curt tone but shrug it off as you take a seat next to him and lean your shoulder against his. You dig into your bag and pull out slips of commission papers and hand it over to him to read through what needed to be done today. A few Hilichurl camps needed to be taken care of, sabotaging a slime balloon, all tasks that seem mundane to someone who fought in a war. As he's preoccupied, you take a moment to look at Xiao's face. He's just the slightest bit unnerved whenever you do this because you always seem to know what's bothering someone.

"Were you dreaming of her again?" you ask quietly. The silence is a good enough answer but you nod understandingly. You never knew his Master personally but you did fight a long strenuous battle against her. From one look you could tell she was a manipulative and cruel woman. While it may not be very kind to say, you were glad that with her passing, Xiao would be free from her physically. But mentally...there were still some things to work out. But Xiao was a very reclusive person, especially with his emotions, so pushing him any further would only make him irritated and closed off.

"Venti and Zhongli are joining our party for a bit if that’s alright. They'll help out a lot with our commissions and travelling. I like Liyue a lot but climbing mountains stresses my shoulders out," you laugh as you change the subject to something less depressing. Standing up as you dust your clothes off before turning to Xiao and holding your hand out for him to take. He stares at it hard for a few moments before huffing and reaching over to clasp your hands together.

It has been so frustratingly peaceful since the war ended. He's not used to it and he can still feel the lick of cutting winds and the heavy pressure of rocks against his body when he sees the bard and funeral parlor consultant just on the horizon. If it were up to him, he wouldn't play nice with these two Archons but they're important to you so he bites his tongue until he tastes blood. He knows the Archons do the same. As soon as the two of them spot you both, Venti is already rushing and tackling you to the ground in his excitement.

"Traveler! I haven't seen you in ages. You need to come and visit Mondstadt more," Venti cried into your shoulder as you awkwardly patted him on his back. Always with the dramatics but you cared about Venti all the same. Xiao scoffed before flicking his jade eyes to meet gold as Zhongli stared down at him cautiously. Since the war ended, everyone seemed to have this warped idea that Alatus had some vendetta against the Gods and Celestia but he was fighting because he was told to.

"Xiao. It's good to see you again," Zhongli said to him. Xiao just nodded in acknowledgement. Even with this new mortal form, Morax never bothered to change his eyes. His gaze alone held the weight of the mountains he had thrown. If Xiao hadn’t been under one of them before, he might have crumbled under the pressure.

"Alright alright, Venti. I promise I'll drop by sometime this month but we still have commissions to do!" you laugh as you haul the bard onto his feet and swat his cape down from the speckles of dirt. He grins cheekily at you, linking pinkies with you to seal your promise, before suddenly lighting up as if he just remembered something.

"Actually! Before we start anything, I need to speak to Mr. Zhongli and Xiao. Super important archon things, you know?" Venti nodded to himself as the two mentioned people stared at him with varying levels of confusion. But Venti just waved their worries off and linked his arms with both men as he dragged them off to a more secluded corner with a surprising amount of strength, “We’ll be right back!”

"Do what you need to do but don't take too long," you called after the trio as you trailed off to the side, messing with your bag of commission papers and gear. Xiao hated that. He knows that these two Archons are your...friends.. but shouldn't you be a bit more cautious? Just because they have mortal forms doesn’t make them human, it doesn’t make him human either.

"Hey, there's no need to look so scary. There really is something important I wanted to talk to the two of you about," Venti speaks up as soon as you're out of earshot. It still gives Xiao whiplash whenever he drops the persona and switches back to Barbatos. "Since Morax is the only Archon I trust with this information and, while I don't trust you one bit, you're the one that's with her all the time you should also know. She's ascending to Celestia."

Barbatos gauges both of their reactions. Morax seems visibly surprised, his eyes slightly widened a fraction, while Xiao has no idea what that means. His Master didn’t exactly give him a history lesson on Celestia or Archons, just pointed to who was his enemy and dealt punishments when he failed.

"And what the hell does that mean?" Xiao asks as he crosses his arms. Venti appears for a second as the bard pouts before continuing.

"It's like I said. A mortal who performs great, heroic feats can ascend to Celestia and achieve godhood. Where they will watch over their people from above. I've only seen this once before so it took me a while to recognize the signs. But 1000 years ago, I helped a woman named Vennessa with her ascension and with the traveler's recent actions with winning the war. Well, you don't need me to explain the rest," Barbatos finishes. Zhongli simply hums as he cups his chin and absorbs what's just been heard. He doesn’t seem troubled by the news at all.

"Have you told her about this?" Zhongli questions as he looks towards the direction that you left. Venti shakes his head. “That would mean that she would vanish from this world."

“I know she loves this world. Whether she wishes to ascend or not isn’t my choice but I want her to continue her travels with that beloved smile on her face. But if she does choose to ascend, she will need our help," Venti stares at the two of them in a mix of pride, sadness, and determination. "Can I count on you two for your help?"

It's a complete white noise in Xiao's ears as his surroundings fade out. He thinks he can see Zhongli nod to Venti wishes, the ever calm smile on his face to match the cheery grin on Venti’s. What, now you want to become a God? Leave this world behind? That’s not funny. You made him give up everything. While in your eyes, your blinded hero syndrome, you think you've liberated him from a soulless conquest but he still has nothing. You still took everything away from him and your only compensation was to have him by your side until he left himself. But now you want to leave without a warning? That’s not fair. You don’t get to take back what you owe. He won't allow you to leave him behind.

“Did something happen? Did Venti say something unnecessary again?” you ask out of the blue. Zhongli and Venti had returned to their respective regions once your commissions were all finished. Since the three of them disappeared to talk Archon business, Xiao had seemed even more tense and aloof than usual. As if he was out of it? You knew that everyone was still suspicious of Xiao and they were angsty to leave you alone with him, but you knew Xiao would never do anything to hurt you. When he doesn't answer, you slowly reach over and you subtly nudge his head up onto your lap and look at him curiously. Before reaching down and cupping his cheek. He leans into your touch before turning his face into your palm and leaving a soft kiss. It makes you giggle at the ticklish feeling as you look at him so softly. It annoys him.

"You were never connected to the war and yet you fought against us anyways. Even when I killed so many people, why did you choose to spare me?" he asked as you blinked at him before giving it some serious thought. He went on a rampage and almost destroyed the world. It was fun. He doesn't have any regrets at all because he hated humanity. His own Master was human after all. But then you appeared and stopped him. A random outsider that wanted to play the hero. He thought it was cute. Perhaps he had underestimated the lengths someone would go to to save the world they loved but when he fell defeated at your feet. He said that this wouldn't change a single thing. He would still scorn humanity and what they did to him. He was so sure he would die there but you chose to extend your hand down to him instead despite what your companions felt. Even when the war ended and he had nowhere else to go, you offered him to travel with you. Nothing changed about his mentality, every person that chose to talk to him was quickly scared away with piercing eyes. Every conversation started would end in silence. Every touch would be met by the tip of his spear. But you would link your hands together with his and smile brightly, and he would always end up forgetting his trauma for a moment. You’ve... become precious to him.

"I love this world and everyone in it. You are a part of that world even if you tried to destroy it. It...didn't seem fair to leave you behind when you've suffered just as much," you finish but it only seemed to spark a wave of deep anger inside of Xiao. He quickly lurched up, almost knocking your forehead with his, before grabbing the scruff of your shirt collar and yanking you forward.

"Cut it out with that "love of everything" crap. It's revolting. So you're saying the people I killed weren't worth avenging? Do you think I'm so weak that I need protection? It's one thing to try and please everyone but at least have some awareness would you?" he snarled as he pushed you to the ground. He knew he was being harsh on you and you had every right to walk out and abandon him but you didn't. Of course, you wouldn't. You needed him as much as he needed you. You just reached over and tenderly reached your hand and placed it next to his. Damn it, why is he always the one stuck worrying about you.

"Then you want to protect me, right? Then don't break your promise. You left me alive which means you have a duty to live for me," he takes your hand in his and squeezes hard. Digging his nails into your own until crescents appear and tiny specks of blood appear so you know he's serious. He doesn't care how you interpret his words, just so long as you never leave him.

"Don't die on me, Hero."

It's been a few hours since the conversation so it's pitch black outside but Xiao was never one to sleep. Even if he could, his mind is too loud to fall asleep too. He's startled when you melt against him fully asleep. Honey smooth as you curl up to his warmth and cling to him like moss to a rock. He can feel his cheeks start to flush as his heart begins to pound against his chest. He can't breathe as his world is filtered through each beat that drums against his ears. He's not sure if there's actually something wrong with him or if it's just been a while since someone got so close and his instincts haven't left.

He's just realized it. He's feeling pain. The feeling in his chest is black but he can't claw it away. It's strange in a way that he can't explain it, that he's never felt before, that he's never felt the need to experience. His life had been warped by battle and a constant push to submit to his Master. They are all things he knows but the gentle words that come from your mouth, the bright eyes that hold the world, the horrible ice-hot feeling inside of him is so foreign yet too easy. He doesn't like it.

It makes him feel...clean in a way. Enlightened perhaps? His Master is long gone and it's like you said. He's free now. Free to make his own decisions and live his life how he wants to. He carefully turns over so as to not startle you away as he really looks at you. You look so peaceful in his arms, eyelids shut without worry, face slack without nightmares, breathing so softly against him. If you weren't so close to him that he couldn't feel the rise of your chest, he wonders if he would think you were dead. He stares at the lock of hair swaying back and forth with each breath like a starved man. The strange feeling doesn't stop. He hates it. It's everything that goes against him and what he knows and everything he should want. He's supposed to be the villain in your story, he should kill you right now-

"Xiao..." he hears you mumble beside him as you lean further into his arm. Damn it. How low is he going to go?

“What are you thinking about now? You just need to think about me. Don’t think about anything else...but me” Xiao sighs before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him until you're snug against his chest. Close to him, where he can touch you, where you belong. Not with Morax or Barbatos. Not with humans but beside him. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his head into your hair and he stares off into the distance. The feeling never leaves him for the remainder of the night.

"Ah! There you are. I was running around crazy looking for you," he turns his hair to see your flushed form pulling yourself up onto the mountain cliff, "When I woke up I couldn’t find you anywhere! You gave me a scare there."

He hates you. He hates you.

Words of his previous master ring in his ears, almost as if her very soul is wrapping around him as she whispers in his ear how weak he is. Ones with power that refuse to take what they want because they rather live in the comfort of nothing. Be greedier, take what belongs to you.

"Xiao?" you say as his piercing eyes stare directly through you. His Master always told him that she loved him. Even if he hated her he still clung to that false love. Of being wanted. Isn't love for a single person vile? Would feeling such emotions for one person instead of "everyone" bring you down to reality? It's not fair that you've crawled your way into his heart while you walk along in bliss. Now that he thinks about it. It was so simple. He just needs to monopolize your thoughts and love. This time it won't be as friends.

"I love you."

He'll pull you down to where he is. You extended your hand down to hell so it's your fault. He'll drag you down kicking and screaming if he has to. You left him alive. You have to live for him and by him. He's not letting go.

Reblogged for extra notes

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[fenristheorem]

Hi! Can i ask a scenario/headcanon for my human OC s/o and lance? thank u 🖤

Hello again! Happy to write for your OC! 😊

The page who requested this DM'ed me details of their OC, so I'll write some major points of their OC in a list below so there's a general idea of who I'm writing.

~Under the cut~

The OC:

To begin with, her name is Mary.

She's a human with witch ancestry, and is roughly 164 cm or 5 ft 4 in.

Since coming to Eldarya, she's learned to control electricity. This can be used as a weapon. It can be pooled to be thrown as a bolt, or it can be charged into another object without her even touching it. This ability also reflects her emotions a bit - if she’s feeling anxious, tense, or scared she may accidentally end up shocking someone who touches her.

She can talk with animals/companions. She’s their voice in a way, and she speaks for them when they need something said but can’t say it themselves. This comes from a mind-link with them, and through this link she can also control them and their actions.

Occasionally she receives premonitions because of her ancestry. Mary can’t control this ability, it comes at random times, but it can still warn her of future events.

Personality - Mary can be considered the mother of the group, with a bit of a dirty mind. She cares deeply for those who are close to her but isn’t afraid to give them a sharp scolding if they worry her seriously. She’s pretty quiet, but not shy, and while she’s wary of strangers she can quickly warm up to them. Her mind-link to animals has helped her grow to love these creatures in time, and she’s very protective of them and her friends/family. Mary isn’t afraid to fight for her beliefs and what she feels is right, she likes to be modest but isn’t afraid to be the center of the attention in a time where she needs to put her foot down. However, she does understand that people can change, and will give others a second chance - and even advocate for them - if they show sincere regrets for their mistakes.

Now that that's settled, I'll get to the headcanons (and I added an extra scenario because I had a great idea).

Lance's relationship with Mary:

Oh, where to start?

In his lifetime, Lance has learned that you need to appreciate the people who are true with themselves and others, and who stand by you even when it might be better or easier for them not to. He tries his best to be as useful to the guard as possible - to make up for everything he's done - so when she comes to him, noticing that he's been running himself a bit too hard some days, and tells him to take a break and says that she's worried for him, he listens.

He fights a bit at first; he’s not used to having such a caring figure watch over him, but in time he realizes that she acts like this to show she cares. He’ll soften up then, slowly learning the best ways to comfort her worries for him and give genuine apologies when he fails to show that’s he’s truly alright after her concerns run rampant. She just wants him to be alright and know she cares.

Lance admires her adamance in fighting for what she feels is right, and even further appreciates her fearlessness in opening up to him and trusting him early on when he was proving to her that he had changed. Frankly, he expected her to take many months, perhaps years, before accepting that he had changed from his past ways, and was delightfully surprised when he found that she actually was beginning to believe it early on. She had no reason to doubt, though - many weeks had passed and he continuously proved that he’s changed for the better, so while she was cautious (her mother didn’t raise a naive fool), she kept an open mind on the topic and let his actions and words speak for himself.

He’s happy to stand beside her on topics that they share a common opinion on, talking and debating new reasons as to why they feel this way or that - and although they’re open-minded to other’s opinions on the matter, when they’re faced with a time where opinions can shape something permanently and it seems a mistake is about to be made, they won’t hesitate to argue their points. With that being said, they’re very careful to be sure that they aren’t misleading anyone, but there are certainly some things that they know to be right and they will readily fight alongside each other to enforce that the right decision needs to be made.

However, most of the time they’re pretty quiet. They like the modesty of carrying on daily tasks and (for Mary, at least) hanging out with friends. Mary doesn’t like to make a scene for no reason, and Lance genuinely loves that he doesn’t need to worry about her starting drama around the guard that superiors will need to deal with. Their temperament around each other is truly relaxing, knowing that the other won’t randomly burst out screeching information that shouldn’t be stressed.

Some of the most fascinating things for Lance, however, are the fact that she can speak with animals and control electricity. These are the topics that he likes to observe her doing.

He’ll spar with her every now and again - just to make sure she can still defend herself to his standards - and will receive a nasty surprise when he’s nearly struck with a thunderbolt that scorches the ground next to him - not meant to hit him, just meant to remind him.

“Lance, really, I think I’m fine. Even the most powerful warriors can’t stand to electricity.” She’ll faintly laugh at his semi-shocked expression. He forgets every now and again that she can do that.

However, she has had moments of anxiety that really shock him... literally. She'll be anxious or nervous about something, pacing around restlessly, and he'll try to hold her comfortingly... only to receive a nasty zap the instant his fingers brush her skin. She'll apologize profusely, only feeling worse at the fact her ability hurt him, but he'll pay no mind and still take her in his arms. He'll endure the pin pricks if it means he can help calm her down.

He takes her premonitions seriously as well. Every once in a while she’ll dream of something so vivid, so rational and realistic, that she just can’t ignore it. Usually she’ll keep her mouth shut on most of her dreams if they don’t bother her to the point of needing comfort, but sometimes there’s just this need for Lance to know. He’ll listen - he won’t ever deny her a comforting shoulder to lean on when she needs to talk - and his jaw will nearly drop every time it turns out that her dream turns into reality. This is far and few in between, but it does happen, and Lance - having quickly learned many lessons with her - will take these dreams heavily into account and try to plan accordingly. Sometimes a dream is just a dream, of course, but they've recognized tell tale signs to point when a dream may be different.

There’s some bittersweet warmth that takes over him when he sees her talking to the creatures of Eldarya, knowing that he nearly destroyed all of that and, fortunately, failed. Her bond with these animals is so strong that some days he wonders if there’s more than just a mind-link, perhaps some sort of spiritual-link as well, but he could never be truly sure.

He was certainly surprised the first time it happened, though, when he was merely thinking bemusedly that she was just talking to a small woodland creature to be cute.

“She says the plant is dark green with red tipped leaves - big leaves, bigger than your hand. It’s that way.” She points in a direction.

Lance pauses and looks with her, his mind suddenly whirring so fast he nearly suffers whiplash, and doesn’t speak for many moments as his stare remains glued to her, minor hints of fear and shock lacing his expression.

“What? That’s what she said...” Mary is suddenly minorly off-put - nothing is more terrifying than when Lance doesn’t know how to react to a situation.

“The... the plant... she... how???” He doesn’t exactly know what he wants to ask.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I have a mind-link with animals, I can speak with them through thought.” She continues to apologize as Lance suddenly heaves a relieved breath.

He truly thought his partner had went crazy for those moments.

“So this way?” “Yea.” “Ok.” “Hey, we really need to find this plant to study it, it might be dangerous. I need you to bring us to it.”

The woodland critter pauses for a moment, looking deep into her eyes as she links their mind, and then scuttles off in the direction of the plant.

Lance pauses again, the same blank, semi-fearful-shocked expression having returned as he watches the creature, Mary following close behind.

“It’s more polite to ask where it is rather than take control of the mind to see where we need to go, but smaller creatures don’t always understand the ideas of ‘show us’.” She says semi-guiltily as she passes by, knowing she accidentally left him in the dark on a lot of this ability.

“I... sure.” He follows as well. He’ll need some time to ponder over this before beginning the questions.

Lance grows very used to this in time, and even specifically asks her to come with him on forest expeditions sometimes if animals could help him find his objective, but it certainly was a shock when he first learned of it.

Their relationship is serene, they have minimal arguments and, frankly, when they do argue it’s more of a debate, and they enjoy spending time with each other doing subtle things. Every now and again they’ll enjoy an adventure (usually of Lance’s suggestion), and these adventures always yield entertaining, enjoyable results, but at the end of the day they also heavily enjoy the calm of life. It takes a while for Lance to settle into Mary’s quirks and habits, but he never regrets for even a day allowing himself to be close to her. She brightens his life in multiple ways, providing comfort, entertainment and support to him, and he seeks to return that as much as he’s given it.

Extra scenario:

(I theorize that Lance adopted Floppy and I will fight Beemoov on this if needed!)

“Oh great Oracle she’s still so adorable!”

Mary softly squeaked the words as she leaned down to watch the Musarose scuttle around the desk her nest was placed on. It had been a long while since she had last seen Floppy, the last time being sometime before the White Sacrifice, but she was still so freaking cute.

Floppy stopped and looked up at her, twitching her tiny pink nose before returning to scurrying across the wood. The little creature fled back into her nest for a moment, hidden from sight, before re-emerging and scuttling to the other end of the desk where nesting material for Musaroses lay in a wooden box. She scrambled onto the edge and took a small bunch in her maw before dashing back to her nest, disappearing again into the small hole entrance.

“A little more in the corner there...” A quiet, feminine voice echoed in Mary’s mind, and she reached over to the box of bedding, gently - to avoid crushing the soft material - pinching a bit of the bedding between her fingers before bringing her arm back.

Floppy poked her head back out again, preparing for another mad dash across the desk, before pricking her round ears and ambling out of her nest to settle in front of Mary. Mary brought her hand down to Floppy and small pink paws grappled in the air to receive the bedding.

“Thank you.” The feminine voice whispered again as Floppy blinked at her before she turned and slipped back into her nest.

Mary smiled as she stood up straight and looked towards Lance, who was seated at the edge of his bed. He was slouched forward, his elbows resting on his knees while he fiddled with his hands restlessly, his gaze fixed intently on Floppy’s nest.

“Thank you for letting me see her again. I had wondered what happened to her...” Mary spoke gently as she walked with quiet footsteps towards Lance, choosing to sit next to him so she could observe Floppy as well.

“Of course.” He responded with a small smile and a glance at her before looking to the floor.

Mary recognized that something seemed off about Lance as she studied him - he was pretty resigned at the moment. She realized that Lance wasn’t usually overly energetic, but he certainly wasn’t this sedated on average.

Floppy emerged from her nest another time and bounded over to the box of bedding, resting her front paws on it and trying with all of her greatest might to nudge the box.

“Done. Lance, done.” The voice whispered in Mary’s mind again, and she was about to open her mouth to relay Floppy’s words when Lance stood and sauntered over to the desk.

Floppy leaped at his hand as he closed the lid, missing and disappearing with a poof into the bedding instead.

“Floppy.” The quietest of laughs escaped him as he reached his hand into the bedding to pull the Musarose out. She shook herself off while he continued to close the lid with his other hand.

Mary smiled again and joined his side by the desk, resting a hand on the box with intentions of putting it back for him. However, Lance rested his hand gently on her wrist as he noticed, turning to look at her with soft eyes and a small, affectionate tilt of his lips.

“I got it.” He said.

Floppy scrambled onto the desk as Lance picked up the box and headed towards a chest placed alongside another wall of his room, while Mary stood still by the Musarose. They both watched Lance for a moment as he crouched down and opened the chest, hesitating to put the box inside.

“The box belonged to Valkyon.” Mary turned to look at Floppy, who was crouched on the desk, as she started to speak through the mind link. 

“Oh?” She spoke quietly. Mary was sure that Lance could still hear everything she might say, but she still spoke in a quiet tone for the sake of discretion.

“The box reminds Lance of his brother, but he refuses to get rid of it. He really misses him.”

Mary stared at Floppy for a moment before turning to look at Lance again. He was tracing his thumb over a small etching in the wood that she could faintly make out. A ‘v’... ‘a’... ‘l’... ‘y’... Was that Valkyon’s name carved into the wood?

“He does this a lot when he’s reminded of him. I miss him too, so I try to comfort him. I’m not sure if it works, but I just want Lance to know that I miss him too, and that I’m sure Valkyon isn’t angry. He always spoke so highly of his brother in his memories, and even when he found out that he had to fight Lance he still loved him so much. He just wanted his brother to feel better...”

Mary didn’t know what to say. She knew as well that Valkyon wasn’t angry, and that Lance heavily missed his brother. Did Lance know that Floppy felt all this as well? Did he know that Floppy can tell when he’s in agony and tries to comfort him?

Lance set the wooden box into the chest and closed it, standing up and beginning to shuffle around a few things on another desk next to it. He says nothing but the sloping of his shoulders and the way he hangs his head tells that he’s burdened by thoughts.

“Valkyon always hoped that his brother was alive; he never stopped searching for him and went to many extremes to try and track him. I don’t think Lance knows how much he meant to Valkyon, even after Valkyon realized he had been fighting his brother the whole time. I just wish he knew this, I think it would comfort him, knowing that his brother will love him no matter what...” 

Mary looked at Floppy again and the Musarose turned to meet her gaze. Both were silent, and Mary had a feeling that the small creature wanted her to do something. Little did Floppy know, Mary already was planning on how to tell this to Lance. She knew the companion wouldn’t have told her all of this in such detail, while Lance is in such pain, unless she meant for her to do something about it.

Her gaze returns to Lance as he turns and heads towards them again, reaching gently for Floppy. She extended her tiny legs into the air to reach for his hand and claw her way up to stand and look at him. He pet her a few times with his thumb, holding her close to his chest, before setting her down again near the entrance to her nest. One hand was set on the desk to allow himself to lean while Floppy scurried over and around his other hand, a whisper of a smile resting on his face and a distant look in his eyes...

“You know... Floppy misses him too.”

Lance flicked his gaze over to Mary as she began to speak, who watching the Musarose clamber about.

“She knows when you’re reminded of him, and she doesn’t want to see you in pain. She knows that Valk doesn’t want you to be in pain either...” 

His gaze fled to an empty section of the desk, bowing his head. Mary took just a small step closer to him.

"Lance-" He refused to hear it; he couldn't hear it.

Mary reached a hand out to rest on his shoulder as she began speaking, but he backed away, unable to meet her gaze, and sauntered to the window. Lance felt his throat constrict and pain prick at his chest as he rested both hands on the windowsill and bowed his head; this was all his fault, he didn't deserve comfort.

Mary refused to give up though, Lance needed to hear this. He needed to know that, while he had done some terrible things, he always was and still is loved dearly. She quickly trod after him, Floppy dashing along the desk and over other furnishings to keep her important role in this, and, although she knew he wouldn't take too gracefully to this, rested her hand on his arm and stood close by him.

“Valk never stopped looking for you, he always believed you could still be alive. He spent so much energy trying to find a possible lead on you... and he always spoke highly of you.” Mary spoke in a gentle tone as she watched his expression, carefully testing her words to assure she didn’t distress him too much. She glanced over at Floppy, who was sitting on the windowsill on Lance’s other side.

“Valk always believed him in. He always believed that Lance was still good.”

“Valk always loved you and he always believed in you, even after knowing what you had done.”

Watching as Lance’s blue eyes grew misty as he stared through the window, Mary knew she was getting to him. She glanced at Floppy again as the companion nudged closer to rest her fore-paws on Lance’s wrist and sniff at him.

“Floppy knows when you have moments where you miss him... she knows how much Valk loved you, and she wants you to know that even though he isn’t here anymore, she is and she can love you for him.”

Lance shut his glassy eyes at this, tilting his head down, before opening his eyes just the slightest to look at Floppy with a tragic look on his face. The Musarose curled her tail over his hand and looked up at him as though he was her whole world. He breathed a shaky breath and spared a bittersweet smile at her.

Mary pressed herself gently against Lance, bringing both her arms around him to pull him closer. He didn’t resist, turning to face her and pull her into a tight hug with one hand on her nape and the other around her waist as he buried his face in her neck. She could swear she felt a bit of moisture near her neck as Lance stifled a heaving breath.

Floppy joined as well, leaping onto Mary’s clothing and crawling upwards until she could settle against Lance’s neck, where she laid gripping his shoulder armor as to not lose balance and fall.

“Lance...” Mary wanted to say something more to comfort him, but she couldn’t bring anything to mind that would help this situation. Anything further would just break Lance, and she didn’t want to destroy the moment that was being shared. She resigned to just holding Lance in a gentle and loving grasp as he held her like she was his last lifeline.

After the passing of many minutes, Lance eventually regained control of his breathing and loosened his grasp to avoid suffocating her. As he adjusted his grip, wrapping both his arms completely around her tiny frame, only one thought could run through his mind and be spoken:

“Thank you.”

Hmm. I feel like I deviated from Mary’s personality a bit with the short-story/scenario as it required her to be a bit pushy, but I suppose a trait of being a motherly person is not being afraid to put someone in a bit of distress if it’s something they need to hear to feel better in the long run.

I hope you liked this overall! This was my first time writing with a specific OC, which turned out a lot harder than I originally thought and hence why it took so long, but I think I did well!

Have a request? Ask them here!

But first, please read the rules list for asks!

[youtiaoshutiao]

传闻中的陈芊芊 thoughts

i haven’t been very active lately but i just came on to say, i binged on the romance of tiger and rose / 传闻中的陈芊芊 and have 2 eps left and i love it SO SO MUCH. i was expecting some pure crack but beyond that, i really ended up catching much feels for it?

and i think beyond the outlandish hilarity of some of the scenes and the cheeky meta, it’s actually a pretty decent drama with its plot and character motivations largely dictated by logic. i have to commend the scriptwriter nan zhen 南镇 for the entire set up of the drama (and it’s her original script!!! which is so rare in the industry nowadays run over by book adaptations - i mean i love those too but i still think it’s an easy way out for production companies when they adapt books with established fan bases). it’s actually really clever of her because all plot holes/flaws in world building can easily be attributed to xiaoqian’s lousy scriptwriting abilities?

i really did become quite impressed with the plot as the episodes progressed haha. the conflict and plot thickens as xiaoqian, now as qianqian, with the mindset that she’s not part of this story at all and that she’s interacting with a bunch of characters on paper, continues to engineer plot machinations trying to steer the plot in the right direction to get to the end so she can return back to the real world. and you slowly see how that just devolves into complete chaos and plot twists when surprise! she IS part of the story, she IS interacting with these characters and they are influenced by what she says and does! so you have her original male lead hanshuo, destined for the female lead chuchu, falling in love instead with her and changing his entire plan because of that. you have chuchu, the original female lead, slowly growing more unhinged as she perceives qianqian’s actions and words as callous and uncaring and outrightly antagonistic towards herself and as her resentment builds when everyone seems to shower affection and attention on qianqian still.

adding on to that is, how xiaoqian as a scriptwriter views and perceives her characters? some characters like hanshuo, she clearly constructed with much care and love, as seen by how she knows exactly how to make hanshuo happy and doesn’t want to upset him in the initial episodes (which caused him to fall for her like a devoted puppy). yet it seems like she either didn’t grasp fully their character motivations/personality/how their character is moulded by their backgrounds? which is why she probably didn’t see how the inherent difference with which her mother treats qianqian vs chuchu would lead to jealousy and resentment seeping in and poisoning chuchu’s heart. and her visualising han shuo as a murderous calculating career-driven male lead aka the male lead of eastern palace clearly runs contrary to how he is total putty and has barely hurt a fly ever since he fell in love with qianqian.

and there are characters too like her mother that she originally clearly just wrote in as characters to steer the plot forward, and in-world, she is clearly stricken when she realises how they have emotions and hidden depths beyond what she fathomed - like when her and her mother had that semi HTHT after she stole the dragon bone and her mum stayed by her bedchamber to watch over her all night. and another example would be su ziying - she’s so happy to see him when he appears as in that moment she’s viewing him from the lens of the scriptwriter of this story and she knows he’s going to push the plot forward. but seeing him and his actions actually playing out - she gets irritated by what he does and also his actions actually do end up affecting her, because she is in the story too!!!

and moving on from that, as the plot further progresses, another spanner is thrown into the mix when she realises that male lead is really really in love with her! and would give up everything for her! and... she too is in love with him!! and this changes things too because while initially all her actions were to push the plot to move forward the way she originally wrote it so that she can head back, now she’s actively trying to push back against the flow of events, as she’s now emotionally invested in this and doesn’t want the male lead to die as per her original script.

the play out of all these was really really entertaining and gripping to watch?? i was legitimately bowled over by how affected i was when all the angst came in, because it really felt like it made sense amidst all the crack and was well set up? and throughout it all, the actions of all the main players in the plot made sense and were logical, even the secondary leads chuchu and peiheng. haha idek if i’m ascribing too much credit to this whole plot, maybe it’s really just meant to be a cracky fun time and i’m too into it HAHA.

there’s also the set up of huayuan city being a matriarchal society where basically the roles of women and men are reversed. it is really v trippy!!! and An Experience to see scenes like men being harrassed by women, people tittering at other men for not being covered up enough in public, wares that can increase your chances of birthing a female heir being peddled on the streets. initially i was kind of apprehensive as to how it was going to play out. now at ep 22 where they’ve gone to xuanhu city which is patriarchal the conversation regarding gender roles and gender equality is continuing!! but i shall reserve my thoughts and comments till the entire arc plays out.

but beyond all that, the drama is just so much fun fun funnnnn!!!! i loveddddd seeing how this drama about a scriptwriter getting stuck in her own script had scenes interspersed with storytellers on the street retelling qianqian’s exploits and qianqian’s regular meetups with the storytellers/opera writers to discuss how the plot of the drama was going or even the scene where hanshuo and peiheng went to the opera house for their male lead showdown and the opera characters were there saying all the rude things they wanted to say to each other. such fun meta?? breaking the fourth wall?? satire?? idek LOL i just know i enjoyed it thoroughly

and lastly, apart from all the thinky thinky stuff, i’m thoroughly charmed by the otp HAHA. i loveeeee qianqian so much and zhao lusi is soo effortlessly adorable and natural and charming in this role that i can totally see why everyone from han shuo to her mother is enamoured by her. i actually am really curious also to see how qianqian before xiaoqian transmigrated into her body was like - seeing how her servant didn’t seem to have any whiplash from an extreme change in personality suggest that maybe qianqian wasn’t all that different from xiaoqian?? and probably might not have been that spoilt/callous/havoc-wreaking as everyone perceives her to be?

and han shuo too is SO entertaining and funny and darling - when he first came to huayuan city he’s all “i’m cunning and smart and i’m going to MANIPULATE EVERYBODY for my/xuan hu city’s benefit” and “i want chen qianqian to die with ten thousand arrows through her heart!! i want her to be stabbed by knives three thousand times!! not a single time less!!!” and “do you think i don’t dare to kill you?!”. then he falls in love with her and instantly he’s all puppy eyes and utter devotion. IT’S DELICIOUS. ding yuxi really makes staring at your FL like she’s the only one in the world an art form. and as one comment on a bilibili mv said regarding han shuo’s supposed bloodlust, “han shuo, up to this point you’ve only killed one horse” HAHA

(keep in mind that it’s not even that han shuo ordered the killing of this horse, it was his subordinate that killed it on his behalf, and han shuo was Not Happy about it after that!)

together the otp are even more adorable!!! it’s teeth rotting fluff but yet it comes off very earnest and adorable without being cloying. i was literally clutching my heart and grinning at the screen dopily at some scenes. and even though the otp dynamic and character setups are not really the same, the way the two of them bicker and act like children around each other kind of remind me of yongqi and xiaoyanzi from hzgg for some reason lol.

and apart from the otp, there are a whole host of supporting characters that are really very funny and adorable and entertaining to watch haha. special shoutout to both han shuo and qianqian’s subordinates who are HILARIOUS and plain Done with their masters’ nonsense (especially bai ji who really just wants to get shit done okay!! but his master just keeps on wanting to fall in love and date!!) there’s also qianqian’s older sister yuanyuan who is disabled and on a wheelchair, and with a sad yet somehow hilarious penchant for writing multiple drafts of her will. and her otp, su mu, a courtesan (yes the courtesans in this city are all male).

honestly i’m not sure where i’m going with this, i just briefly scanned through what i’ve written so far and lol seems like paragraphs of illogical incoherent rambling. I’m sorry it’s 5am over here i’m not really thinking straight T_T i just have a lot of feels for this drama okay ;_____;

[dimensionwriter]

Mechanical Heart

Part Seven

Male Android x F! Reader

Warning: None

Word Count: 1852

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

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You gripped the handles on your office chair as Axel stood in front of you with his arms folded. You didn’t know if you were supposed to talk first or him, but whatever was supposed to happen hasn't yet, only leaving you in this insufferable silence.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” you whispered, staring down. Axel still stood there and didn’t move a muscle. “I know you were trying to help me and I was being over emotional again. I’ll try to improve myself.”

Axel finally moved. He uncross his arm and walked forward. Squatting down, he rested his arms on the desk while leaning towards you. Your head was still down, afraid of what he was going to type.

He leaned forward a little more until his upper half was on the desk. You shrunk into the seat as his screen was right there in front of your face. You flickered your eyes up to see words flooding his screen.

“You aren’t over emotional, you’re perfectly fine. Emotions are perfectly normal for humans. It’s just me who needs to adapt to it,” he wrote in the same normal font, but had some curve to it. You scooted up in your chair as you shook your head at him.

“No, you’re fine too. I need to understand your morals too,” you spoke with a reassuring smile. He dropped his screen onto his folded arms. “I guess we both got to just get used to working with someone of the other species.”

Axel's head dropped down slightly as his finger balled into a fist. He seemed to be battling to say something. Quietly shaking his head, he lifted his screen proudly up and began to type. “Yeah, it’s just that I think I’m starting to feel-”

The door slid open and you both jumped. Axel almost fell off the desk before standing straight up. You leaned back into the chair to seem normal.

Spinning the chair nonchalantly towards the door, you were met with Screw standing at the door. A neutral face emoticon came onto their screen as they rotated their head between Axel and you.

“I hate to ruin your moment, but we need to do a drug bust and you two were the ones chosen,” he wrote slowly while tilting his screen from Axel and you. You hoped he wasn't getting the wrong idea right now.

"Of course, give us the address we will be right there," you said in what you thought was a normal voice, but it was pitched up and spoken too fast. You jumped out of your chair and walked towards Screw.

"I sent it to Axel," he wrote in a big font while looking at Axel. Axel gave a swift nod in understanding. He turned around and walked over to a cabinet in the corner that held all your weapons and supplies.

Tapping your shoulder, you turned around to see Screw writing extremely fast on his screen. "I see you two loose screws finally talked it out. And about what you asked for earlier, I changed my mind. I think it would be a lot more fun if you didn't have it. I prefer for the tension to keep rising."

Tension? What tension was he talking about? You know what, this is Screw you're talking about.

"I actually didn't want it anymore, anyways. And I don't know what you mean by tension, but I'm sure it will go away," you whispered with your head held high. A laughing emoticon appeared on his face followed by a gif of a lady smirking.

"Oh trust me, this tension will grow even more. I shall enjoy watching every moment of it," he said with an exaggeration in his use of cursive. Lifting a hand, you boldly flicked his screen. He may be your boss, but he sure doesn't act like it.

A hand grabbed your shoulder and spun you around. Axel was standing there with a bunch of equipment in his hand. He placed a majority of it on the table before leaving only what looked to be a bulletproof tank top.

"Lift your arms," he wrote slowly raising up the vest. Was he about to dress you? You are not a little child, plus you don't need one of those.

"Axel, I'm not putting that on," you said nicely while gently pushing it away. An opposing force went against you causing the tank top to be pushed towards you.

"They might have guns and you can be damaged if struck with a bullet," he wrote slowly pushing it towards you. You shook your head and pushed it harder.

A bullet proof tank top is a lot better than the old vest they used to use. However, it was still uncomfortable to wear and restricted a lot of your upper movement. You wanted to be at the top of your game for Axel. You didn't need anything holding you back.

"Please, put on the protective gear," he wrote with that sharper font with a slight red gradient at the bottom of his word. It's the chair situation all over again. However, this time you won't be a brat about.

"Fine, I'll put on the vest. But there's no way in hell I'm putting on the pants," you growled out pointing to the familiar fabric on the table. It was the equivalent of cement formed like pants.

Axel glanced at the pants then back at the tank top. Numbers began flowing across his face as he stared down at the tank top in his hands. His head spun 90 degrees to the pants on the table.

"After calculating all the possibilities, it would be safest for you to put on this item due to most of your internal organs being there. Although, I will bring the pants along in case of an emergency." He scrolled down a little to allow you to see the words. You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms.

"I'm not wearing the pants," you said firmly. Axel froze as he looked around the room. His eyes landed on something causing you to look over too. He seemed to be focusing on the bean bag in the corner.

"If you wear the pants, I will get the second chair," he proposed with the word 'chair' bolded. How lowly does Axel view your will power? You were not some weak minded human. It's not like he would even use the chair like you intended, so why would you cave in?

You stood in front of Screw with the bullet proof tank top and pants on. Your old black police jacket was thrown on top black.

"Hey, Screw. When are we getting our new department jackets?" You asked pointing with your thumb to the back of your jacket. It's kind of weird that you guys made a big deal about the combining, but the public still sees you in your old uniform.

"We're working on a design," they wrote in an italicized font that wasn't as dramatically cursive like their usual one. Their screen turned behind you before turning back to you. Why were they acting so weird?

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist before you were slightly tugged back into a firm chest. You stood there in shock as Axel leaned closer to you. His screen had a slight pink hue to it that was barely noticeable; his screen appeared to be black, but there was a light pink colour reflecting off his jacket.

"Um, Axel?" You asked tilting your head forward to look at his face. Axel seems hesitant to turn his screen towards you.

"I was putting on the utility belt for you. Or would you prefer only the gun holster?" His words were written in that same old grey times new roman font making his intention feel innocent, but the arms around your waist and feeling of his body around yours said otherwise.

Stop it. He's an android. He doesn't know any better. Don't even begin to think that this is supposed to be intimate. It's normal.

"Oh, yeah I think the holster would be fine," you wheezed out with a forced smile. His arms departed from you and you let out a small breath you didn't know you were holding.

"So… are you going to keep denying this tension?" As soon as you read the words, they made them disappear. "Yeah, this mission shouldn't be that bad. Lots of reports about this building that we believe could be a hideout of some drug dealers."

It felt like you got whiplash from how fast they changed that attitude. You did need that information because Axel didn't seem like the type to give you everything and just shorten it. However, how can they go from talking about this random tension to the mission?

Axel's arms slowly slithered around your waist and once again, you were slightly tucked into his chest. You pretended he wasn't there as Screw continued to give information.

We were to first scoop around the area and see if there's truly anything suspicious. There is already confirmation, but we just need to be sure.

Wow, Axel is taking a while to put this thing on.

With confirmation, we will try to break it up and arrest everyone. Scan their faces to put it into the program. If we need backup-

Axel's body was definitely closer and his screen was laying against your shoulder. He's an android. He's an android. He doesn't do emotions like that.

There are polices stationed around just in case things get out of hand. So we just have to tap the backup button on my holster or Axel just send it out. It should go smoothly, just in case.

Axel finally slid away and you felt like you just ran a marathon. Your heart felt like it was trying to fight your rib cage right now. Not to include sweat pouring out of every pore.

"Officer, are you okay?" Screw wrote in bold letter and that bright gold colour. The cursive was so exaggerated that you could tell it was written in a teasing tone. As to push their teasing, they released a slight whirring sound that sounded too similar to cackling. "The tension getting to you?"

A gentle hand was placed on your shoulder and now it was your turn to hesitantly turn towards it. Axel screen was completely black except for the words written: "What's wrong? Are you catching a human sickness?"

"No, nothing. We should be heading out," he said with a tight smile. His posture tensed up and he looked about ready to type something. Taking that window of opportunity, you grabbed his arm and headed towards the door.

Screw gave you a mocking two finger salute that you returned with a glare. You were quick to pass by them before they could type anything else.

You had a feeling on what they meant by that tension. Although, they were mistaken to think that it was between you two. It was more one sided and it was all from your end.

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Here's another one. I didn't realize I was already on part seven. It don't know if this series is getting too long. It might be getting around time.

Anyway, as usual, please leve a COMMENT and a LIKE. I'm working on setting up a commission post, so if you're interested you can message me with any questions.

Thank you so much for reading. Love you guys💜💜💜💜