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#but adding an Actual Real logic behind it is far more interesting
giggly-squiggily · 1 year
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A Proper Trade (Blue Lock)
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Heyo! I had all the intentions of saving this for a rainy day but then I watched more Blue Lock and here we are kjaekjrjakewrjk. I'm truly attached to these characters, can't you tell? Anyway- I hope you like it! :D
Light CW: Swearing
Summary: After Kunigami continues "accidentally" tickling Chigiri, the redhead learns from Bachira some interesting information on Team Z's superhero. Of course, nothing goes quite as planned when you take advice from Mr. Whimsical himself.
“Excuse me, coming through.” Kunigami shifted from behind, hands finding Chigiri’s waist.
“You’re fin-Ah!” Chigiri yelped when said fingers prodded gently, making him jump. Before he could react, Kunigami was already gone, wandering towards whatever place he wanted to be in the room.
“Son of a…” He groaned, arms coming around his torso protectively. Behind him, he heard Jingo and Gagamaru snickering, clearly amused by his reaction.
“Princess is ticklish! How cute!” Raichi cooed at him, making his face burn.
“He sounded like a mouse. Kinda like that Minnie character.” Gagamaru added, making the other wheeze.
“Aren’t you two ticklish as well?” Kuon asked from his futon, ducking when a pillow came flying at his face.
“Shut the hell up, you long haired bastard!” Rachi was on him in seconds, retracting his pillow as he attempted to “suffocate” the other. Gagamaru stepped in to help, but it wasn’t long before he was assisting Raichi into finding all of Kuon’s own tickle spots.
Chigiri bit down a smile at the wheezy giggles their teammate let out, turning his attention back to Kunigami. At first, he assumed these moments were accidental. It was no secret the ginger haired striker was touchy- shoulder pats, high fives, and hair ruffling were all things Kunigami did on the daily.
So when he went to wake up Chigiri for morning training, he believed him when his finger “accidentally” brushed under his arm.
And when he gave him an “encouraging squeeze” to his leg during a team meeting.
And of course all the times he’d had to move around him, his fingers “accidentally” poking into the soft spots of his torso like they knew exactly where it would tickle worse.
He probably should have paid more attention after the first one.
“Hmm…seems like Kunigami likes messing with you~” Bachira mused to his left, nearly giving Chigiri a heart attack. “I think he likes you, ChiChi~”
“I told you not to call me that.” Just when his blush was finally starting to fade. Turning away, he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning away from the other. “If you mean he likes to mess with me, I’d believe it.”
“Aww, such a tsun-tsun~” Bachira giggled, clearly enjoying himself. “You know, it really is like the fairy tales- the hero stealing the princess’ heart. We just need to find ourselves a villain and we’d be living the real thing!”
“I’m going to shower.” Chigiri began to leave.
“Kunigami’s ticklish too.” Bachira’s casual remark made the redhead freeze. “I know where to get him too.”
Kunigami? The ginger haired, musclehead, self-proclaimed superhero…ticklish? Logically, it’d make sense. So far, everyone else in Blue Lock proved to be so. What makes him any different?
And this was coming from Bachira- the guy who’d start tickle wars for the simple fact he was bored. If anyone knows about this, it’d be him…
“Is he now?” Chigiri looked back, giving in to curiosity. “Would you mind telling me?”
Bachira’s grin was both terrifying and exhilarating.
~~~
“Aha, there you are.” Kunigami smiled when his eyes found Chigiri. “Isagi mentioned you like to hide out in the weirdest places.”
“I’m not hiding.” And weird places? The footage room wasn’t that weird, was it? “It got overwhelming in the main room.”
There was some truth there. Without fail, bedtime was a bit of a catastrophe for the boys. They got there in time, sure, but the actual winding down part was always preceded with pillow fights, truth or dare, and various other little things.
Definitely not because he couldn’t get what Bachira told him out of his head.
Nope, definitely not that.
“Fair, fair. You’ve missed it- I’m pretty sure Gagamaru was gonna kill Naruhaya.” Kunigami took a seat beside him, leaning back on his elbows and crossing his ankles. “Of course- that’s normal for them.”
“Naruhaya does like to steal his food…” Chigiri kept up the conversation, but his focus was on the near perfect position Kunigami presented himself in. Laying out like that…
“His armpits and ribs are really bad. Oh! And his belly? Killer spot. And those thighs! I’d say his feet, but I never tried it.”
It would be so easy to reach out and try. To give Kunigami’s sides a poke and see him react. He could probably get away with it too- he’s faster. Where’d he hide was the real question.
If he bothered hiding at all. A part of him almost wanted Kunigami to tickle him for real.
Huh. He’d have to chew on that more later. For now- an opportunity was before him.
“Heh, can’t blame the kid. I’d snag a dumpling too if I was fast enough.” Kunigami tucked his arms behind his head, laying flat back with a content hum. It was almost like he knew what Chigiri was thinking of. “Actually- no. That wouldn’t be very heroic of me. I’d have to earn it. Possibly offer some curry in exchange.” He turned those orange eyes to Chigiri, something knowing in them. “Don’t you agree, princess?”
“I guess…” What was that about? Chigiri turned his attention back to the recordings. “Fair trade is probably for the best.”
“See, I knew you’d get it.” Kunigami chuckled, closing his eyes. Was he going to sleep?
Well…this was a better time than never.
Keeping his movements slow and silent, Chigiri scooted over to the bigger boy. With hesitating hands, he reached out with one extended finger. Just a poke; just a confirmation he was in fact ticklish. One little poke-
“Knew it.” Kunigami sounded amused. Chigiri felt his heart drop.
“Knew what-whoa!” The redhead yelped as he was pulled inward, crashing against the other’s chest. With a few short moves, he was properly pinned beneath a smug looking Kunigami, feeling his life flash before his eyes. “W-Wait!” “No can do.” Kunigami raised a wiggling hand, eyes glittering. “Didn’t you hear a word I just said? We trade around here. If you want to tickle me so badly, you’re gonna have to get tickled yourself first!”
“Wait, waihahahahhahait, Kuhuhuhuhunigahahahahmihihihihi!” The redhead let out a squeak before slapping his hands over his mouth, squirming as his friend’s fingers danced across his belly. Soft, muffled giggles pushed against his palms, threatening to fill the entirety of Blue Lock.
“Aww, what’s this? Don’t be shy, princess.” Kunigami easily captured Chigiri’s hands, pinning them above his head while his free continued to lightly trace against the soft sweatshirt. “I wanna hear that pretty laugh of yours.”
“Shhhuuhuhut uhuhuhuhp! Ahehahahha, dohohohon’t sahahhahay thahahhahaht!” Chigiri squeaked, arching some when that dastardly hand moved up to his ribs, pinching and prodding at them with gentle fingers. “Gehhehehehet ohohohohoff!”
“Why not? It’s the truth.” Kunigami grinned, keeping his tickles feather light as he raked his hand down the other’s side. “It’s really pretty. Almost as pretty as that smile of yours. Your secret weapon- you could make anyone stop and stare at it!”
“Nohohoohohoho, stahhahahhaap!” Chigiri hated the whine in his voice nearly as much as he hated how red his face felt. He hid it against his arm as he thrashed beneath the other’s touch, his laugh increasing with each teasing word the other spoke. “Iihihihihihit’s embahahahahahhrrassihihihihng!”
“What, you’re smile? Or your laugh?” Kunigami shot his hand up to Chigiri’s armpit, snorting when the other squeaked loudly. “Because I think both are nice! The fact you don’t agree tells me everything I need to know. I’m not stopping until you admit you like both!”
“Thahhahhahat’s not fahahhahahahair!” Chigiri cried, kicking his heels helplessly against the carpeted floor beneath them. “I’hihihiihihhll dihihihihiihihie!”
“Not with me around! I’m a superhero- I’ll never let you die, princess!” Kunigami dropped his hand down to his hip, giving it a friendly squeeze. The squeal the redhead let out nearly took our hero out with how hard he laughed. “Holy crap! You’re so ticklish!”
“STAHHAHAHAP IIHIIHIHIHT!” Chigiri cried, burying his face into Kunigami’s shoulder as his hip got squeezed relentlessly. With a strength he hadn’t known he had, he managed to get his arms free (where they ever held that tight?), lightly batting at the other’s shoulder with one hand while the other clawed at the hand massaging his hip. “KUHUUHUHUHNIGAHAHHAMI!”
“You know how to make it stop.” Kunigami gave him a small break, walking his fingers down until they rested on his thigh. The threat was clear. “Come on- just admit it.”
Chigiri did know how to make it stop.
But it wasn’t by giving in.
“Ahehehahhaa! Tahhahaake thihhihiihs!” He shot both hands into Kunigami’s armpits, praying that Bachira didn’t give him false information. Kunigami all but squawked in laughter, falling to his side as he tried to curl up. Chigiri wasted no time, following him over with vengeful fingers.
“Ah! Ahehahahahahhaha! Whahahait- wahahhahahahit! Chihiihihihihigihihiihihihihihi!” Kunigami cried out, curling up into a loose ball as he laughed himself silly. “Cohohohome on, hahahhahahve mehehehhehrcy!”
“No way! You and your trades- you said I get to tickle you if I let you tickle me.” Chigiri tried to fight down the giggles building up at the various squeaks and high pitched noises Kunigami made, failing to do so when he moved his hands down to the ginger’s upper ribs, making him squeal. “Oh my god! What was that?”
“CHIIHIHIHIHGIHIHIIHIHI PLEAHHAHAHHASE!” Kunigami cried through his mirth, trying and failing to roll away. No matter which way he turned, the other followed. “MEHEHEHHERCY!”
“Will you stop tickling me all the time?” Chigiri asked, dropping a hand to his lower ribs. Kunigami all but shrieked.
“YEHAHHAHAHHAHAS!”
“Promise?” He moved a hand to the hero’s belly, earning a variety of snorts.
“PROHOHOHOMISE!”
“....really promise?”
“HEHEHEHHEYOHOHOHOHMA!”
The use of his first name did funny things to his heart. Chigiri retracted his hands, laughing as he watched Kunigami gasp for air, curling up like a bug. “Heh…hehe…I guess I can take your word for it, hero.” He willed his heart to stop racing- why was it racing? Clearing his throat, he sat back on his heels, shaking his head softly. “I think you’re the most ticklish person here in Blue Lock.”
“Ahehe…hehee…nohohoho way…thahaht honor goes to yohoohou, princess.” Kunigami replied, earning a swat. “Okay, maybe Isagi actually.”
“Definitely.” Chigiri snorted, letting them fall into a comfortable silence. When he spoke again, he tried to make his voice sound controlled. “You said my name.”
“Hm?” Kunigami looked at him curiously. “I did?”
“Yeah…Hyoma. It erm…it sounded nice.” Chigiri felt his face burn. Judging by how red the other got, he wasn’t alone.
“I did! Oh yeah…I did…” Kunigami ran a hand over his neck, clearly flustered. Then he turned to the other, setting his shoulders. “Hey, Hyoma. Can I tell you something?”
“Y-Yes?” He sat up, his heart threatening to pound out of his chest. Is this what Bachira was talking about?
Did Kunigami…really like him?”
“I-” The ginger began, only to be interrupted when the doors opened.
“Would you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to-” Isagi stopped short, eyes widening in shock upon seeing them. Chigiri’s messy hair and red face. Kunigami inadvertently leaning towards him. The wide eyed shock on their faces upon being caught.
“Oh-Oh shit!” He turned quickly, backing out of the room as his ears burned red. “Shit- my bad! Holy- Bachira was right! Erm- I’ll see y’all in the morning, bye!” The door shut on Isagi’s rambling, leaving both Chigiri and Kunigami stunned into silence.
“Bachira was…?” Kunigami began.
“Oh my god.” Chigiri held his face in his hands. “He set me up!”
It all made sense now. Bachira- telling him where Kunigami was ticklish. Bachira, casually mentioning the hero might like him.
Bachira most likely telling said hero Chigiri’s go-to hiding space.
“So he did…” Kunigami didn’t sound mad. He didn’t even sound bothered. If anything, amusement colored his voice. Chigiri heard him shift, and before long a hand was gently tugging his own off his face, making him look up. “I’m guessing he also told you I liked you?”
“He might have…” Chigiri wanted to avert his gaze, but Kunigami had him locked in. There was something there that he was too scared to read into. There was no way…
“What if I told you it was true?” Kunigami spoke so softly, so casually. As if what he just said didn’t set a bomb off within Chigiri’s chest. “What if I did like you?”
“I…” Chigiri felt like he couldn’t breathe. He was so close now. “Then I’d say I liked you too.” Unplanned, but the confession felt right. He nodded, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. “So, do you? Like me, I mean?”
A gentle kiss to the lips was the only reply he got.
Thanks for reading!
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delimeful · 3 years
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you can’t go back (4)
warnings: mentioned child neglect/bad parenting, mentioned awkward saucy teen flirting, arguing, emotional upset, the dubious ethics of over-excited teenagers
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Roman had been acting strange, lately.
It was perhaps a harsh thing to think about his friend, especially considering he was bound to behave differently when the recent disappearance of his twin was taken into account, but it was also true.
Logan had known Roman for years, long enough that it was an effort to search back through his memories for a point that they hadn’t been together, if perhaps not always in the most amicable of circumstances. They’d gone through the entire gamut of enemies-frenemies-rivals-friends, and Logan liked to think that he had a fair grasp on Roman’s tells by this point.
All of Roman’s tells were currently telling him that the other student was trying to hide something, something big.
It wasn’t just the way that he had stopped sulking whenever something happened that reminded him of his missing brother, or that he was suddenly scrawling what almost seemed like notes in a glitter-covered notebook when he hadn’t had the inspiration to work on anything creative in weeks, or that he had all but given up on the pretense of paying attention in their shared classes.
No, the real sign that something was wrong was the way that Roman had begun to outright neglect his two closest friends.
Logan was hardly affected, of course. He was above the base emotions that so many of his peers were constantly fraught with, and less time with Roman gushing in his ear about whatever had caught his interest or complaining dramatically about those who had wronged him meant more time for Logan to focus on what was important, like his AP classes and many, many extracurriculars.
Of course, that didn’t explain why he was currently trailing after Roman on his walk home, when he really should be at violin practice. No matter how much of a soft spot the teacher had for him, he’d gained his skill through hard work, not skipping practice. Certainly not skipping practice to hound off after his erstwhile classmate.
However, he wasn’t the only one being abandoned in this scenario.
Logan Croft had been forced to sit at a lunch table with an increasingly secretive and distant Roman, and a mournful, kicked-puppy version of Patton Hertz, the most cheerful guy in their grade, if not the entire school.
Roman, stuck in his own thoughts as he clearly was, seemed to not notice the effect his lacking presence had had on Patton, and Logan was just about fed up of watching the slow decay of the half life of their little group.
The secrecy was ridiculous. They’d been there when Roman had been so worked up about the ‘police coverup’ that he’d actually considered trying to break into a government building, they could certainly be here for whatever it was that had him so bizarrely clammed up now!
Logan paused from a distance and watched as Roman hurried in through the front door of his house, counting backwards in his head. It would be a fair challenge to try and break into Roman’s room, particularly with Roman in the house, but if his deductions about the seeds constantly caught on his friend’s pant legs and the odd-colored mud left on the soles of his favorite tennis shoes were correct… There!
Sure enough, only a few moments later, Roman was pushing out through the back door, taking an unusually careful moment to close the screen door behind him before turning and walking determinedly down the path into the rural wilderness that made up half of the grounds his family’s farm sat on.
Logan waited until there was little chance that Roman would double back for something he’d forgotten, and then strode confidently up to the front door, rapping on it twice. Going by the fact that there was a car in the driveway and the door had been unlocked when Roman had gotten home from school, someone else was home to answer.
Mrs. Torres opened the door, looking surprised at the sight of him for a moment, before breaking out into a warm smile. “Logan! It’s so good to see you, are you here for Roman?”
“I’ve been meaning to meet up with him for a project, but he left school before me, so I came here,” Logan said, not above lying through omission to uncover the truth. “Is he home?”
“Oh, he just got back, but I don’t think he’s inside-- ROMAN!” she turned towards the stairs and called up them, frowning when there was no response. “He must be out in the yard again. Come in, come in!”
Logan stepped inside smugly, glancing around. The interior was much the same as the last time he’d been here. If it hadn’t been for the pile of faded missing posters under a mug on the counter and his own prior knowledge of the situation, Logan would have been hard-pressed to guess that this was the home of a recently-vanished child.
“Honestly, I’m just glad he’s not staying cooped up in his room anymore,” Mrs. Torres was saying. The woman speaking casually in front of him only added to the eerie composure of the home, and Logan made his way through the general pleasantries and politely refused any refreshments with an unpleasant feeling in his gut.
“They didn’t even bother printing out new missing posters this time,” he remembered Roman telling them with a quiet, bitter sort of anger. “He dyed his hair, and they won’t even pay to put a recent picture of him up when it could be the difference between someone recognizing him or not!”
On a logical level, Logan can understand something concerning happening over and over, repetition dulling it’s effects until it feels mundane or everyday. Roman has mentioned before how his parents believed that Remus was simply acting out for attention, mostly while thanking Roman for being above that, as though the metaphorical ‘good twin’ wasn’t currently building a career on literally acting for an audience's attention.
What Logan can’t understand is that Remus’s parents are apparently completely uninterested in finding out why Remus is so desperate for attention that he would resort to a maneuver he knows will only get him negative consequences.
Logan himself would certainly like to understand. All queries on the matter had garnered only uncomfortable evasion from Roman, as though his friend might have had an idea but wouldn’t say, likely due to irritating personal feelings that Logan couldn’t parse.
So, he’d reached out to Remus directly, on one of the few days that he’d actually attended classes.
The delinquent had been visibly confused by his approach-- the twins allegedly hadn’t had a mutual friend since the beginning of grade school-- and resistant to Logan’s questioning, which Patton had later informed him was likely far too blunt for the situation. They’d gone in circles for a bit, Remus making outlandish or confusing metaphors while Logan refused to rise to the bait, and then he’d made a simple observation about the hypocrisy of the twins’ parents, and Remus had stared at him with an odd tilt to his head for a moment.
Shortly after, he had made a very confusing comment about something that was anatomically impossible, and when Logan had enquired further, Remus had then hared off with pink cheeks and ditched school for a week. He’d asked Roman about the situation, but his friend had only covered his ears with an agonized look on his face, utterly refusing to explain.
Logan shook the errant thought away, and the odd pang of something like regret that Remus had vanished before he could follow up on the interesting interaction.
He turned his gaze away from the unharried setting. The odd dynamic between the Torres family was not what he was here to investigate, not even remotely.
There was only one Torres he was investigating right now, and he had a strong suspicion that his odd behavior had less to do with family than one might expect.
“Go on ahead, I’m sure he’ll hear you once you get out back,” Mrs. Torres encouraged, picking up a particularly irritated-looking calico cat. “Just have to make sure Lady Macbeth doesn’t escape and disturb your little session. Roman’s been worried about coyotes, so we’ve been keeping her inside.”
Logan nodded, though privately he was a little surprised. Coyotes? He hadn’t thought they would be so bold as to lurk at a farm this close to urban areas. Perhaps there had been sightings near here?
He pushed past the creaky screen door with a striking sense of familiarity, despite the fact that it had been quite a while since the three of them had gone wandering together in the foliage and dirt of the Torres farm. Patton’s allergies could be quite fierce, after all.
As expected, walking into the backyard revealed no signs of Roman, even when Logan cleared his throat and called out. He knew his friend well enough to know that he would have reacted audibly to his unexpected presence, so the only logical conclusion was that he wasn’t nearby.
Clearly, it was time to check the perimeter.
He walked in a careful, orderly line next to the old wooden fence, eyeing the peeling paint and refraining from setting his hand on it. He had more to worry about than potential splinters, such as keeping an eye out for any potential strangeness that could explain Roman’s behavior.
There was little to be found in the brush except a regrettable amount of sandburs catching along the hem of his pants, so when he spotted the barn, he felt a surge of excitement.
And if he indulged in a little bit of sneaking, hoping to catch his quarry unaware, that was his business. Roman was loud enough that he could hear him ranting a good few meters from the barn, anyhow.
He managed to make it all the way to the edge of the barn wall before the rant abruptly cut off, and he stalked forwards hurriedly, pushing the door open before Roman could hide anything incriminating.
He needn’t have worried: the evidence was standing there in the middle of the barn, strapped to a support rafter.
It also wasn’t human.
“What are you doing here?” Roman shrilled, taking a quick step to be in front of the creature. It was an ineffective method of hiding it, seeing as what appeared to be long, spider-like limbs were extending in the air a good few meters in either direction behind him.
Logan had known about Roman’s theory, the one that had been laughed right out of the police station. He’d walked with Roman and scoured the fields for any sign of what Remus had mentioned, though they hadn’t found anything. He knew his friend still believed that his twin’s disappearance had been unnatural, extraterrestrial.
Knowing was quite different from seeing an entire alien right in front of oneself.
Roman was still talking, in that nervous chattering tone that he always took on when he was working himself into a truly incomprehensible explanation, but Logan could hardly be asked to divide his attention at the moment.
Extra anterior eyes, odd shiny patches along the sides of the neck, exterior hinges along the jaw, organic plating that had visibly darkened since his first glance-- there was so much that he needed to understand the purpose of, so many questions he had about their origins. How close by was other life? Which star had they hailed from? How had they gotten here?
He was moving forwards without a second thought, enthralled by the way the legs rose up-- like a bird mantling their wings, and they appeared smooth, not hairy as an actual spider’s would be.
“Incredible,” he breathed, and then there was a hand fisted in the back of his polo and he was being yanked away. Where he’d just stood, all four of the strange limbs stabbed into the ground, their reach longer and their ends sharper than he’d anticipated.
There must have been an extra joint closer to their back, the flexible kind that would allow for such an extension. He itched to circle around and look for himself, to confirm his hypothesis before the limbs retracted, but Roman was still clinging to him like a shrieking barnacle.
“What did I just say?!” he demanded, gearing up for a scolding. “It’s not friendly! Do you want to get stabbed into next week?”
“How long have you been keeping an actual alien life form from the world at large? From scientists at large? From me?” Logan shot back, shaking Roman’s grip loose. “Have you had them strapped upright this entire time? Can they talk? How did this even happen?”
Even as he demanded an explanation, his gaze was drawn back over to the alien, taking in their every twitch with endless curiosity. He wanted to know how to read each motion, from the downturn of their chin to the scrunching of their smaller eyes to the way the flat plates where a mouth should be had seemed to twitch. He wanted to know everything.
“It’s been like a week, I didn’t strap them up they came like that, either they don’t speak English or they’re a really good actor, and they showed up in my barn after Remus was abducted, you do the math!” Roman rushed out, edging closer as though he thought Logan was about to try and get closer to the alien again. “And I didn’t tell you because I knew you would do this!”
“This is hardly the first time I’ve almost been stabbed in the pursuit of science,” Logan retorted, annoyed at the presumption that he wouldn’t risk his life for his goals.
“It’s only a little bit about the near-stabbing!” Roman’s voice cracked, and Logan finally pulled the other half of his attention away from the alien to stare. “This is my only lead on my brother, and you’re going to want to-- to-- to put it in a laboratory or National Geographic Magazine or something!”
“I’d be far more likely to write a thesis paper on the matter,” Logan corrected helpfully. Roman’s hands twitched, the body language possibly indicating that he was barely restraining himself from trying to throttle Logan.
“Whatever! The point is, this isn’t a science experiment to me!” His rival’s face was crumpling slightly at the edges. “You can’t just-- just use the alien I found as a ticket to get into some esteemed college while Remus is left to rot in the far reaches of outer space!”
To Logan’s horror, Roman’s eyes had become suspiciously shiny. He floundered for a moment, wishing Patton was there to smooth things over as he so often did, before firming his shoulders and lifting his chin. He could at least try to explain, and hope it didn’t turn out too badly.
“I’m not going to ‘leave Remus to rot,’” Logan started, remembering the recycled missing posters stacked up on the counter. “If you believe that this alien is key to finding out what happened to him, then that should be-- well, our first priority should always be furthering the advancement of human understanding, especially with a discovery as big as this, but I am an accomplished multitasker, so we can do that while we attempt to locate and recover Remus.”
Roman’s shoulders slowly loosened from their frustrated hunch. “You’re going to help me? Seriously?”
“Do you really think I’d joke?” Logan replied, gesturing to his tie. “The more information we compile on this specimen, the better we’ll understand them, and the closer we’ll be to understanding the motives behind Remus’s abduction.”
“And you aren’t going to tell anyone?” Roman asked, looking more hopeful by the moment.
“Why would I? I work more effectively on projects on my own,” Logan answered, the same sentence that had sparked a loud argument between him and Roman in the middle of Biology two years ago. This time, however, Roman looked excited rather than offended at the response. “We really should figure out something to tell Patton, though.”
“That’s… a good idea,” Roman admitted sheepishly. “There’s no way we can let him around an unknown alien fiend, especially not one so… spider-y. You almost got stabbed, imagine what it might do to poor Patton!”
“You handle our story,” Logan decided, turning to look back at the alien fully. “I’ll see what we can do about those extra limbs. We won’t be able to do any sort of up-close analysis with a constant threat hovering over us.”
He straightened his tie, studying the way the extra limbs in question were vibrating just slightly in the air, drawn in significantly closer to the alien's body than they had been before. Despite the movement of the legs, the alien themself was still as stone, all of their attention locked on Logan.
Through observation and experimentation, he was sure that each little motion of theirs would soon become as readable to him as everyday human body language, and from there, real communication would be in reach.
Communication with an extraterrestrial... This would truly be a project like no other.
Fueled by a thrill of excitement, Logan couldn't help but smile.
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starryevermore · 2 years
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scooby doo! and the overdramatic youtubers: the investigation (2) ✧ sam and colby
scooby doo! and the overdramatic youtubers ✧ a parallel universe snc au | ao3
summary: the gang + snc get close to wrapping this whole thing up. 
word count: 1,633
warning(s): fred is pissed at colby
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The gang settled at a table in the library, calm now that the adrenaline from being nearly killed by the Shieldmaiden had worn off. Except, Fred still looked ready to kill Colby. And this disdain for Colby certainly was helped when, after the coast was clear, Daphne hugged him tight and declared her thanks a hundred times over. Yeah, Fred was pissed off, and Colby was praying that they solve this mystery ASAP so that their mission could be complete and they could return home, lest Colby return home in a body bag. 
“So, uh, what did you find out, Velma?” Sam asked, fiddling with his thumbs. 
“More than you did when you ran off with Scooby and Shaggy,” she said, smiling slightly, not looking as angry as her words would suggest. 
“In our defense, we just wanted to find the Shieldmaiden,” Colby said. “And it’s always the ones who break off from the group that find the monster first, so our logic was sound.”
“Hm, I suppose,” Velma said, flipping through her notebook that she had jotted down clues in while they had been researching. “The history of the Shieldmaiden is a bit fuzzy. As far as I could see, there is no real historical roots in her existence. There have been rumors over the last hundred years or so, but nothing that was of note. It mostly surrounds a—”
“Let me guess,” Sam interrupted. “It’s some ghost story about a Shieldmaiden who once took over Little Denmark, destroying effectively everything. She wanted power, and the only way to get and enforce that power was by ruining everything that the town prided itself on. And once she got that power? She made sure that no one could take away. At one point, a rebellion rose up. But it failed so horrifically, with so many lives lost, that no one dared challenge her again. The townsfolk never forgot them, though, and what they had sacrificed in order to try and get some semblance of peace. Eventually, the Shieldmaiden wasted away and, with no heirs, so did the town.” 
Velma blinked. “Actually, yes. The ghost story basically faded away after a while, save for some journals detailing everything. That’s essentially where all of the information came from, so who’s to say if it’s real or not.” 
Colby frowned. So, in this universe, the Shieldmaiden story was purely legend? Whereas in his and Sam’s universe, people were trying to pass it off as fact? Interesting…
“Anyways, the story has seen some resurgences over the years, namely when similar legends have made the rounds online. None of this was any issue until a few months ago, a real Shieldmaiden ghost made its first appearance in town. And ever since her first appearance, she seems to be going after a very specific type of infrastructure in town.”
“And what’s that?” Sam asked.
“Well—”
But, before Velma could finish her thought, the Hex Girls threw open the doors to the library, running over to their table, earning a loud “shhh!” from the librarian. They ignored the librarian, only stopping when they reached the table. Colby felt his face grow warm when Thorn stopped just behind him, her hand on the back of his chair as she tried to catch her breath. 
“What’s happening?” Daphne asked. 
“It’s the Shieldmaiden!” Thorn said. “You need to come quick!”  
“She attacking again!” Dusk added. 
“Follow us!” Luna said, grabbing onto Velma’s hand and tugging her out of her seat. 
The rest quickly jumped up, following the Hex Girls to the scene. 
As they walked, Colby slowed so he and Sam were at the back of the group. When he was sure that no one could hear them, he asked Sam, “Do you think something’s going on between our universes?” 
“Because the Shieldmaiden stories have overlapped? I’m not sure,” Sam admitted. “It’s strange. Maybe it has something to do why we were given this mission?”
“Like, if the Shieldmaiden isn’t stopped, she’ll do something in our universe?”
“Maybe?” Sam paused. “I wish Ard—Lux. I wish Lux was here. She would know what was going on.” 
“I just wish Lux would talk to us,” Colby said. “She’s left us in the dark, probably gave us this mission, and she just…I don’t know. I thought we all got close in the Karate Kid universe, but I guess it more one-sided than I thought.”
“I mean, she’s got an intense job. We should know better than anyone how hard it is to keep in contact with people while we’re working. We can’t exactly fault her for that.” 
“I know. It’s just…I miss her. Like, more than I thought I would.”
Sam nodded. “I get that. You did spend more time with her than I did, but…You just gotta trust that she’ll come around when she’s able.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then what else can you do?” 
They’d accidentally fell so far behind that, when they caught up to the rest of the gang and the Hex Girls, they’d already finished talking to the witnesses. Shit, they were really fucking bad at doing this mission. What would happen if they didn’t keep up? Would they fail? And what would that mean for their universe? 
When they reached the gang, Velma was saying, “Well, gang, looks like this mystery is just about wrapped up?”
“Huh? What did we miss?”
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“Shoot, shoot, shoot!” Sam cursed—or, at least, tried to curse—as he got his foot stuck in some elaborate trap that resulted in him dangling in a tree outside of the cathedral. Why couldn’t he curse out loud? Was this a result of them being in a cartoon universe? ‘Cause if it was, he couldn’t wait until he was out of this hellscape. 
“Sorry!” Fred apologized, running up and quickly untangling him. Sam landed on the ground with a quiet thud! “That wasn’t meant for you…” 
“Yeah, I figured it was for the Shieldmaiden…” 
“Oh, no, it was for your friend.” 
Sam blinked. “Colby? Why?” 
Fred scoffed, resetting the trap in the event that Colby came back. “He tried making a move on Daphne earlier, and now everyone thinks they’re about to be some power couple. There’s even headlines already—Meet Little Denmark’s Newest Powercouple: #Colbne! As if Daphne would ever date him. I mean, why would she, when she can have someone tall and good at traps and blond and good at traps—”
“Listen, brother, you don’t have anything to worry about. Colby was just trying to save her, not trying to make a move on her. Trust me—”
Before Sam could finish his sentence, he heard the frightened shouts of Colby, Shaggy, and Scooby, who’d been used as bait to catch the Shieldmaiden. 
“Wait, they’re supposed to go to the other trap! Where the girls are!”
“Well, change of plans, Fred, ‘cause the Shieldmaiden’s gonna have to go into the trap meant for Colby!” Sam said, gesturing for the the guys to run toward where they were so that the Shieldmaiden would get caught.
And, thankfully, Colby at least seemed to know what was up, running towards them before jumping out of the way last minute so that the Shieldmaiden, who was hot on his heels. Unable to stop herself, she fell right into the trap, a relatively simple design where her foot was caught in a loop of rope that flew up, dangling her upside down from the tree.
She trashed around, trying to free herself, but Fred let her fall easily, knocking her head against the ground so that she was disoriented when she sat up.
By then, Velma, Daphne, and the Hex Girls had rounded the building. 
“Jinkies, you caught the Shieldmaiden!” Daphne said. 
“Good job, Freddie! Now, let’s unmask this gal and so who’s been behind this mess all along,” Velma said, She reached over, pulling off the zombie mask off the Shieldmaiden. 
“Jacklyn Ann?!” everyone cried out. 
By now, the authorities had arrived and began to place handcuffs on the now un-masked villain. 
“Ah, just as I expected!” Velma said. She turned her attention to everyone else and explained, “The Shieldmaiden has been targeting tourist destinations all over Little Denmark. If you recall, when we met Jacklyn Ann earlier, she expressed her hatred for the tourist industry.”
Jacklyn Ann scoffed. “Well, can you blame me? Tourists ruin everything they touch! They have no respect for where they visit! They trash everything, they have no respect for history! They prioritize their fun over all else, and it cheapens the town! Then, when the town’s resources are drained, the town suffers!” 
“Well, we can’t fault your reasoning, but surely you could’ve taken a different route, a more legal route to achieve your ends?” Colby said. “I mean, isn’t your dad the mayor? Couldn’t he have done something?” 
“Oh, Daddy doesn’t listen to me! This was the only way for him to see that tourism is evil!” she shouted. “And I would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it hadn’t been for you meddling kids!”
“Yeah, yeah, we get that all the time,” Shaggy said. 
They watched as she was carted off in a police car, the car driving away. They stood still for a moment, before Velma turned to Sam and Colby said, “I told you there was no such thing as ghosts.”
“One instance doesn’t disprove anything,” Sam said, shrugging. “You never know what’s out there. And, uh, we should probably be heading out. Got more investigations to do, you know.” 
“Wait!” Thorn said. “Before you go, would you like to be in our music video? It’s the least we could do to repay you, all of you, for helping out here.” 
Sam and Colby shared a glance. Then, Colby said, “Sure. Don’t see why not.” 
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cotncandyboifics · 3 years
Text
A Lovely Night: Chapter 6
AO3 Link
Masterpost
Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5
Pairing(s): pre-established roceit & prinxiety, anaroceit, eventual anaroloceit, eventual intruality
Word count: ~4k
Story summary: Roman's boyfriends had had a rivalry since before either of them had actually met Roman. Running a bit late to a date night, Roman accidentally gets them to start dating too.
General CW: non-detailed description of an anxiety attack, non-detailed description of physical pain, food, kissing, potentially triggering descriptions of physical bodies, swearing, caps lock, school settings, s-xual innuendos, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, implied heavy restriction (ED), inner monologue-style anxiety description, eating, (will be added to as I write more)
Chapter CW: Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, vague description of an anxiety attack, implied heavy restriction (ED), school setting, inner monologue-style anxiety description, food mention, eating, (let me know if i missed anything please!)
Author notes: <<>>
...
Logan did not know what to do with himself. The past week had thrown him off his figurative rhythm far more than he could have possibly anticipated.
First, a lead actor who he'd already been trying his best not to look at - with his accursed pretty hair and handsome face and big muscles - decided to attempt to court him? Logan felt mocked. There is no conceivable possibility that such a beautiful - and might he add, quite pompous and bothersome - man would have any sort of real interest in him, romantically or sexually. He shuddered slightly. He really should have taken the apple his roommate had offered him for breakfast that morning, but it was too late now.
And wouldn't you know, just a week later, a - dare he say - equally pretty man with mesmerizing blonde curls and a cheeky smile takes an interest in him at his own school . After years and years of having never been asked out, no one having taken an even remote interest in him, not one second glance, Logan had two men asking after him in the span of a single week. Men who he found atrociously gorgeous, in fact. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses riding up his forehead a bit.
This alone would have been enough. But he just had to go into that little sewing shop for his dear friend Patton's birthday present, and that boy with the purple bangs who stumbled over his words and his feet was completely and undeniably flustered by Logan's presence. Perhaps he was simply experiencing an ego boost from his two previous encounters that week with pretty men, but he felt that the attraction the boy seemed to have for him was unmistakable.
And now here he was, pacing down the sidewalk toward the library, headed off to meet - Janus, if he recalled correctly - for their first study session. He didn't know what the hell he'd been thinking when he asked to meet Janus again, the very next day no less... perhaps he felt the need to seize the moment while it was present, or however the saying goes. Regardless, while his actions had been quite uncharacteristically spontaneous, he saw no logical purpose in redacting his decision; Janus seemed to be an individual with plentiful intellect, and studying with fellow students had generally proved to be a beneficial tactic in Logan's (albeit minimal) experience and (far less minimal) research. Meeting with Janus, even if it wound up simply being this once, should be no different.
Logan avidly ignored any simmering feelings that he wanted something more than to spend time with Janus just this once.
He was shaken from his thoughts when his phone started ringing in his pocket. He examined the screen, noting the time - 2:49 PM, he wasn't late for his engagement with Janus just yet - as he checked who was calling. It was an unknown number, but the area code was local. Logan frowned, pressing the answer button.
"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."
-
Virgil was kind of panicking.
His boyfriends each happened to meet this super-cute space-nerd guy in the span of a week, and the second they'd talked to him they were all heart-eyes. Not that Virgil was complaining; the guy sounded really cute.
He knew first hand now, that he was in fact super cute . That was the problem.
Virgil's lunch break came and went, most of which he spent gnawing vaguely at a sandwich and staring anxiously at the contact card that had been in Logan's wallet. It simply had his full name and phone number on it, nothing else. He tapped it on the desk in front of him, glancing between the numbers and his own phone, set face-up beside his elbow.
And then his lunch break had ended, and he had several more hours of worrying before he had to convince himself to call Logan.
Something occurred to him, during those hours. Should he tell his boyfriends?
What would he even say? There wasn't much to tell, at least not that warranted calling them before he got home. If he was going to make any calls, there was one he was under obligation to make first. And if he were to seek comfort in them for his obligation, what would they say?
Roman was probably the lesser option; he'd been whining about Logan all week, and now that he knew Janus was meeting with him again today, tensions were especially high. He'd be no help whatsoever, Virgil was sure of it.
And speaking of Janus meeting Logan again today... that also meant no. Calling your boyfriend who was about to see the guy you were nervous to call made the situation all kinds of awkward. No, everything would be easier if he'd simply call him.
So, shaking his shoulders out a bit, he did. He stepped into the break room, grabbed his phone and the contact card, and dialed the number.
His thumb hovered over the call button for a few seconds too long. He cursed under his breath and looked away as he pressed it, bringing the phone to his ear. it rang twice, and then a slight static preceded a familiar voice.
"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."
Virgil was glad he'd drew in a breath to hold when he'd pressed the call button, because he wasn't sure he could recall how to breathe properly.
"Hey, this is Virgil, um, from the knitting supply shop? Uh, you kinda left your wallet here..." Virgil managed to cough, voice not breaking as much as it could have. His chest felt cold and constricted, and he wrapped one arm around himself to fight off the burn of the icy spears stabbing through his lungs.
"Ah, hello Virgil. I am currently on my way to a separate engagement, however it should not take long. At what time would it be acceptable for me to return to your place of business to retrieve my belongings?"
"Oh, uh- I'll be here till four," Virgil stuttered a bit, surprised at how fast Logan jumped to planning mode, as well as realizing he knew the precise nature of the so-called separate engagement Logan was about to attend.
"That is adequate. I will make sufficient efforts to arrive before that time. See you then."
With that, the line disconnected, and Virgil was overwhelmed by the eerie silence of the break room. He glanced at a half-empty box of donuts their manager had brought in yesterday.
He could have said that the shop actually closed at six, and that Logan could get his wallet from Emile, but his train of thought hadn’t been screwed on properly when he’d been speaking, so he could grant himself a little slack- wait, he was mixing his metaphors now...
Suddenly, the door swung open, Emile peeking out from behind it.
"Virgil, could you get back out here? We've got a little rush," and he ducked out, gone as quickly as he’d arrived.
Virgil sighed, shuddering away his anxieties, grabbing a donut hole and popping it into his mouth before heading out to join his colleague.
-
Janus was sitting at a table set between the rows of shelves, reading pensively beneath a subtle desk lamp where Logan found him. He glanced up and smiled gently when Logan arrived, who set his things down beside a chair opposite from Janus'.
"Apologies, Janus, but I must cut our studying session short in about 45 minutes - i left my wallet at a nearby shop this morning, and must retrieve it before 4pm." Janus' eyes sparked with something Logan couldn't place, and he hid a smirk behind steepled gloved fingers. Logan gulped imperceptibly. "Perhaps we can set up another time to study as well- um, to make up for it, I mean?" He rushed his words out in a short breath, running his fingers through his hair to collect himself. Janus' smirk broadened very slightly, and Logan found himself watching the lines of Janus’ face as they shifted.
"It would be my pleasure." Janus averted his eyes for a moment, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought. “Perhaps we should exchange information, so that I might- so that we can settle on a proper time for another engagement.” Janus reached into his inner coat pocket, producing his phone and tapping away for a moment, before passing it to Logan. He took it carefully, recognizing a blank contact screen, and quickly entering his information into it. He handed the phone back to Janus with a tight smile, and Janus returned it, sliding his phone back into the same pocket before resettling himself in his seat more properly.
Janus set aside his book to pull out a few textbooks for their critical thinking class. "If we are cutting our study session that precisely short, that would provide me with a chance to surprise-" He faltered for a moment, tone changing, though it was so subtle Logan almost thought he'd imagined it - "a friend of mine after his shift. Now, where did your class get to in the lecture today?" He started thumbing through the pages of a particularly thick but small book, holding it by the spine with one hand.
"Ah... Professor Cauley was stopped short on page 461 when he became distracted with his electric pencil sharpener malfunctioning, and class ended a few moments later. He did inform us that the other class had made it to page 465, so if you need me to catch up to you, it should only take me a few minutes." Logan was rifling through the pages of his textbook intently, not noticing Janus' surprised expression.
Janus reached a hand out, cautiously setting his hand on Logan's wrist, just beneath his wristwatch. "Don't fret," he breathed, "it appears we share the same class period. If I recall correctly, Professor Cauley’s face went positively red with rage, and he nearly broke the poor sharpener worse as he tried to unjam it." Janus chuckled shyly through his words as Logan met his eyes, smiling after a moment.
“Fascinating. I wonder how I have not noticed you in class before?” Logan tilted his head very slightly, and noticed something swimming warmly in Janus’ eyes. They were quite a very lovely golden brown, he thought.
Janus shifted, looking down to adjust his own texts, but the smirk that was growing less snarky by the second never left his lips. “It is a rather large class. It can be easy to lose faces in the crowd. I’m not sure I can pick out more than three people with whom I share that  class if they were to pass me in the halls. But no matter.” Janus glanced at Logan’s textbook and notes, readying his pencil. “Shall we begin?”
-
Logan was talking animatedly as he hunched himself over his notes, Janus glancing up to watch his face behind its shield of deep brown bangs intermittently as he scribbled in his own notebook to (at least attempt to) keep up. Janus’ gaze was averted, however, when a repetitive chime sounded from Logan’s phone, sitting face down on the desk just beside his right forearm. He stopped mid-sentence, adjusting his posture and picking his phone up, flipping it over to view the screen. He sighed, deflating slightly, as he tapped the screen once, setting the phone back down.
“My apologies, Janus, but it appears that it is time for me to depart.” Logan stood, a colder, sharper version of himself taking the place of the one that holds a deep passion for learning. The beautiful ice crystal, despite its beauty, is still the twin of the icy shards that cut sharper than knives or spears, Janus thought.
Janus stood swiftly, joining Logan in his gathering of his personal belongings, shoveling his own texts into his own bag. “It is quite alright, I assure you, Logan.” They met eyes as Janus spoke Logan’s name, and Janus could swear he saw a subtle, blotchy pink settle in Logan’s cheeks. “I’ll be headed down Main Street, then. Perhaps-” Logan cleared his throat, glaring down and to the side at nothing in particular as he retried his statement. “I will be expecting to hear from you, Janus.” They walked side by side out the front of the library, stopping just past the doors to say their goodbyes. But Janus had a small realization, and felt the creeping suspicion crawling its way up his sides returning. He resisted the urge to shake or twitch it away, grinding his teeth a bit.
Instead of continuing to suppress his stimming, he cleared his throat, speaking to Logan. "I am headed down Main Street as well. I hope it is not out of- I hope that it isn’t inappropriate for me to ask, but...will you allow me to accompany you?" Janus asked, nearly moving to offer his arm to Logan, but deciding quickly that that was far too forward. He settled on spreading an arm out, gesturing to the concrete path before them that led to the sidewalk.
Logan offered a small smile. "That would be adequate, and not inappropriate in the slightest. I, I would enjoy your company.” A beat of silence, and Logan cleared his throat. “Just this way," and Logan set off, at an impressively brisk pace that Janus nearly had a hard time keeping up with, having been caught off guard.
They walked in stride with one another as they made their way down the street. Janus became increasingly suspicious of the scenario the closer they got to the sewing shop. From what he knew of Logan's situation, there was no conflicting evidence that would disqualify the possibility that Logan was headed, in fact, toward Virgil's workplace. Janus held his breath when they turned onto the very same block, watching Logan's body language soften as they did.
Janus took a deep breath, glancing at the sign of the sewing shop a pace or two ahead.
"Logan, there's something I wish to discuss with-"
Janus glanced at the sewing shop's sign once more as they passed, but didn't move to stop before the door until he realized Logan had done so, standing a bit stiff a few paces back.
"This would be the establishment I spoke of," Logan's eyes looked a bit hazed, vaguely pointed towards the door handle. He seemed not to have heard Janus’ beginnings of a confession. Janus’ eyebrow quirked ever so slightly.
"Interesting," he breathed quietly, and Logan met his eyes then. "Allow me." Janus reached a gloved hand out to open the door for Logan, bowing slightly as he held it open.
"Much appreciated," Logan commented, stepping through the doorway smoothly.
-
Virgil was sitting slouched behind the counter, typing random numbers into the cash register out of boredom. He was half considering going to bother Emile, but he was busy doing inventory. And besides, Virgil needed to stay behind the register in case any customers came in. One person behind the counter at all times, that was the rule. He sighed, bringing his hand to his face and tapping on the tip of his nose absentmindedly.
The bell chimed, and Virgil looked up from behind his mop of purple hair. His heart gave a few beats a bit harder than usual, and he felt his throat constrict slightly.
There was Logan again. And the whole rest of the world became background noise.
The line of Logan's mouth widened, creating a crease or two on each side. Virgil realized that not only was he staring at Logan's lips, but as well that Logan was smiling. At him.
"Hello, Virgil," He spoke softly.
"Hi," Virgil practically coughed, the scratch in his throat making it borderline painful to speak. "H-how was your, your day?" Virgil asked, pursing his lips as soon as his words had left them.
Logan inhaled, raising his eyebrows and averting his eyes from Virgil's intense brown ones. "It has been satisfactory." The door chimed again behind Logan as it shut, and Virgil suddenly recognized that there was another person in the room. A person whose presence felt immediately familiar...
"Ah, my apologies," Logan stepped to the side slightly, allowing the person to come into full view. There, with a small sheepish smile, stood Janus. "Allow me to introduce-"
"Logan, dear, that won't be necessary," Janus rested a gentle gloved hand on Logan's shoulder, and Virgil couldn't tell if he was about to pass out from gay panic or just regular panic. "We are... quite well acquainted." Janus smiled tenderly to Virgil, and Virgil's whirring brain slowed if only slightly. He was safe.
…but… was he though?
-
"Oh, is this the friend you spoke of earlier, whom you meant to come and meet? How coincidental, that we were on our way to meet the same person without either of us having any prior knowledge of it." Logan was caught up in his fascination so much that he did not notice Virgil beginning to hyperventilate, knuckles white as he gripped the counter, or the way Janus was watching, practically frozen.
But, as Logan's commentary came to a close, it was as though a flip switched inside Janus’ mind, and he quickly strode around Logan. He stepped quickly behind the counter and over to Virgil, all while nearly whispering little nothings like "oh oh oh," "hush now love," and "come here dear."
Logan's brain took a moment to catch up, and soon he was simply standing there, watching as Virgil clung to Janus' coat rather desperately. Virgil’s body shuddered in silent sobs as Janus wrapped his arms around him, tight and secure. Janus was still whispering to him, but it was inaudible to Logan now.
Logan didn't quite know what to do, and so he just stood there, feeling rather stuck for a long time. At some point, he set his backpack and the gift bag he'd gotten from this very store earlier that day down against the counter on the floor, folding his hands before him. At some point, he registered Janus giving him an apologetic look, which confused him.
And then Janus kissed Virgil on the forehead, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. Logan thought from the way Janus was nodding softly and the way their chests moved together, that they may be doing a breathing exercise. He couldn't focus on much else, so he tried to follow along and copy them as well. 4, 7, 8. 4, 7, 8.
Sooner than later, Janus was leading Virgil carefully back out around the counter, both looking slightly worse for wear, but at least Virgil was far calmer. Janus smiled meekly at Logan again, and he still couldn't quite understand what was happening. It appeared that Virgil had had an anxiety attack, but the way Janus had rushed to comfort him so quickly, the way he seemed to know exactly what to do-
"Here you go, Logan," Virgil's voice was a bit scratchy as he reached out his hand, Logan's familiar black leather wallet between his pale fingers. Logan cleared his throat.
"Thank you," He spoke a bit more quietly than he meant to. He suddenly felt his headache flare again in full force, and had to fight not to shake as he reached his hand out to retrieve his wallet from Virgil's hands. He barely succeeded, but Virgil seemed to notice something amiss - he was watching Logan's wary eyes with some mix of suspicion and concern.
Janus, however, had been staring at the floor, and did not notice Logan's onset of fatigue. He sighed, clearing his throat softly. "Logan, I suppose you deserve some kind of explanation. One I tried to give before we’d come in, but regardless." Suddenly Virgil's eyes were on Janus, and far wider than Logan thought possible. Janus just glanced at him, nodding gently, and Virgil's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Virgil and I are..."
Janus laced their fingers together, and Logan's vision went blurry, everything around him fading to static fuzz as he tried to remember to breathe. He'd eaten more than enough today for this to be happening, surely? ...Had he eaten today? He couldn’t recall. He could always remember ... He vaguely registered Janus still speaking in the background, but he couldn't care enough to force himself to refocus. He got the jist. He and Virgil were romantically involved, and Janus was interested in nothing more than a friendship with Logan. That was perfectly fine. He didn't mind. He forced away the roiling feeling in his gut and gulped down the sting starting to tingle in his eyes, forcing himself to nod.
"Understood," He blurted, voice a bit raspy. He turned toward the door, reaching for the handle. Before he fully exited, he threw over his shoulder, "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." And with that, he was gone.
He made his way down the block briskly, trying to shake the haze that clouded his vision. The only thing he could think to do was go and see Patton. He knew nothing worked magic on his body like a good black coffee.
-
"Virgil and I are..." Virgil looked down as Janus laced their fingers together, and looked back to Logan, whose face seemed to have gone paler than it normally was, which was quite horrifying to see. Considering Logan was already so white that his skin tone bordered on inhuman, now it was devoid of any pricks of red coloring and looked almost like an empty tinted gray, pronouncing his cheekbones and eye bags even more so. Janus looked between them, continuing after a moment, "...we have been romantically involved for several years now, and even longer with our partner Roman, who you may recall from the community theatre? He's expressed to us that he's quite taken with you, in fact... And I know this may be a lot to spring on you right now, but I thought you deserved to know... it felt wrong to pursue anything with you romantically when we- when you didn't have the facts straight, and even regardless, it's important for you to know that all three of us are-"
"Understood," Logan cut Janus off, nodding. He didn't speak harshly, in fact his voice was quite quiet, but it was curt and forward as Logan always was, and so cut through Janus' words like a frozen blade.
Janus looked at him in awe, and opened his mouth to speak, but Virgil gripped his arm before he did. Logan was already at the door. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t really look at either of them. "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." Janus and Virgil watched as Logan walked out the door and straight down the sidewalk through the shop window.
Emile, who apparently had been standing there for at least a few moments, cleared his throat awkwardly. Janus and Virgil looked at him in unison, matching exasperated looks on their faces.
"U-um, Virgil, I was just gonna check in, see if you've clocked off." Emile wrung his wrists between his fingers awkwardly.
"Um, no not yet," Virgil bit the corner of his lip, muttering a 'sorry' as he stepped past Emile and paced quickly to the back room to clock off. Janus stared blankly at the floor where his boyfriend had just been, eyebrows knit in thought.
"You feeling a-okay there, Janus?" Emile dipped his head a bit to get Janus' attention gently. Janus blinked a few times, engaging with Emile as he re-centered himself in the present moment.
"Yes, Emile, I'm fine, thank you," Janus rubbed his gloved palm with his thumb anxiously. He couldn't think of anything to add, so Emile smiled carefully, nodding and stepping away to resume whatever busywork he needed to attend to.
Virgil was back again shortly, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He gave Janus a strange look, some kind of combination of pity and sadness and confusion. At least, that's how it looked to Janus.
"Ready to...?" Virgil gestured vaguely towards the door, leaning into Janus' personal space a bit. Janus offered him his arm, clearing his throat and holding his chin high.
"Yes, love. Let's get home to Roman."
As they walked to the bus stop together, neither had any clue what they’d say to their Prince. He’d be distraught, they were both sure, and significantly more so than he already was, which would be… intense. Janus squeezed Virgil’s hand in his own slightly, and smiled somberly at him sideways.
They’d figure this out. They always did, eventually.
Janus took his time on the bus typing out a message to Logan, Virgil watching from the seat beside him as his head laid on Janus’ shoulder. Janus settled on something simple.
To: Logan L It's Janus. I'd love to meet up to study, or perhaps discuss other things, some time this week. Let me know if Thursday or Friday works better for you.
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alia-turin · 3 years
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It has really been forever, but work kind of kicked my ass the last few weeks and writing has ben really really hard. In any case I am determined to finish that (just one chapter left, yey) and I also have bunch of hot requests to work on. 
Fic Title: Somewhere in Time:  Chapter 9  Previous Chapters:   1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8   Rating: Explicit [NSFW around the end] Fandom: The Witcher Relationship: Caranthir Ar-Feiniel/Original Female Character(s) AO3 Link
“Caranthir?” Aine looked at him confused and afraid, he pulled the blanket over her knowing they won’t be alone soon. Of all the possible days and times now would be the one, of course. He knew Avallac’h probably had no idea Carabthir was not alone, but that did not make the situation less annoying and frustrating. He was not a child anymore.
As soon as Avallac’h stepped through the portal, Caranthir got off the bed and started walking to his dresser, ignoring the man. The clothes he was wearing were downstairs in his study and he was not going to talk to his teacher naked. Avallac’h moved his eyes between him and Aine, she had the blankets pulled almost to her eyes level. Caranthir could feel the anger building in him. Of course his mentor will come now, if there was one thing Avallac’h had ever achieved regarding Caranthir was to ruin the few good moments he ever had in life.
“Get out of the room.” he said as his teacher was shifting his gaze between Aine and him. “The door is there, Avallac’h.” Caranthir pointed angrily as the older elf just smiled politely, acting as if just teleporting in someone's bedroom was the most normal thing in the world. His teacher walked out of the room, Caranthir followed, considering pushing him down the stairs.
“Why are you here?” Caranthir asked as they walked in his lab, Avallach had already lit the place. “Actually, I don’t care, leave.” He was having a good moment, for the first time in his life he was actually enjoying the closeness to another living thing, going through emotions he thought for a very long time unable to experience, and it was all cut short.
“I need to ask you something.” Avallac’h pretended as if that whole thing was absolutely normal. It wasn’t, it had never been normal.
“Make an appointment.” all the serenity was gone and he was pure rage right now, he couldn’t believe something so simple bothered him so much and was able to destroy all the tranquility he felt just a moment ago. He couldn’t show his feelings to Avallac’h, he would not give him the satisfaction. He did his best to look calm, but the winter storm outside the Tower started howling. “Leave.” Caranthir snarled.
“I understand that your absolute inability to build meaningful intimate relationships probably makes you very uncomfortable being seen in bed with someone, but I really need to speak to you.” he was talking to him, but Avallac’h’s eyes were not on him. Caranthir turned and saw Aine standing on the stairs wearing one of his shirts. He turned back to his teacher, Crevan’s eyes narrowed as if trying to determine how serious this thing was. No...he was thinking if he could use her to get to him. He was staring at her in the way Caranthir would stare at a horse he found interesting. He didn’t feel jealous because of his teacher’s gaze, he was concerned.
“Aine, go upstairs.” she hesitated and he raised his voice. “Now!” This time she did it, her light steps echoing as she climbed up the cold stairs.
“Free advice, from personal experience, snapping, especially when there is no need to do so, will result in unfortunate consequences.” Avallac’h forced a smile and Caranthir’s anger only grew. That patronizing, always knowing better than him...
“Despite my inability to build meaningful intimate relationships, do I look stupid enough to follow the advice of the man known for driving the one woman he loved away.” Caranthir chuckled, he had learned from the best. If Avallac’h wanted a fight, he was going to give him one and Eredin was not here to stop them.
“Lara might have left me, but at least she knew who I was.” Crevan pointed toward the stairs even if there was no one there anymore. “Tell me Caranthir, how long before your arrogance and impulses drive her away? How about everything in you that Eredin has corrupted? How long before your true colors show and she walks away for real this time. What will you do then? Let her go?” Avallac’h made a fake laugh. “I saw the marks on her skin, you will not allow your possession to just walk away. I would know.”
Silence fell between the two of them. Deep down Caranthir knew they were just two elves trying to hurt each other without doing it physically. They knew each other far too well, despite how much Avallac’h had tried to hide his pain through the years, Caranthi had seen it. Avallac’h was wrong however, she was not a possession, or maybe he had sensed that was using the words to push him further?
“I need to know where Eredin keeps the girl.” Avallac’h finally said, his voice soft, no trace of the frustrated tone they both used.
“What girl?” It has been days since he has been in Tir na Lia, he had no idea what Eredin or anyone was up to.
“Cirilla.”
“I don’t really keep track of where Eredin stores his toys.” Caranthir smiled. “Now, the door is downstairs, or use a portal, I don’t care.” The storm outside calmed, but so high in the tower, the wind was still whistling against the stone.
“Caranthir, I know you messed with the potion for Auberon.” Avallac’h added without hesitation. “I also know Eredin asked you to.” pause, he did not respond, just looked at his teacher. “I also know you have cast a spell to prevent me from finding Cirilla, I would have located her by now otherwise.”
“Maybe you should try harder.” Caranthir didn’t speak in anger, but he knew the words would hit home. That was what Avallac’h would tell him every single time he was unable to cast a spell or do something that was expected of him.
“You need to look beyond your selfishness.” Avallac’h added. “You have responsibilities.”
“I do.” Caranthir smiled. “To my king.”
“He is not the true king.” Avallac’h did not raise his voice, but the anger there was obvious. “I need to find the girl, she is a key to something more important than whatever Eredin wants to use her for. He will ruin everything…”
“Everything what?” Caranthir laughed. “All your life you have believed that there is a great purpose for you Crevan. Be with Lara, be the power behind the throne, father the child to save us all. Look at you. Ended up with Lara death, me as a replacement for your child and now even the throne is not yours. You are not as special as you think you are, Crevan. You think everyone to be more stupid than you are, but Eredin knows exactly what is at stake here. As do I. We are all aware and don't need you to remind us.”
“But I'm the only one who knows how to help.” There was malice in Avallac’h’s smile now, an emotion he had not seen on the other man’s lips before. “You think you are stronger than me? You can do a lot, but we still need Ciri and your ability might be enough to keep Eredin happy, but they are not enough to save us. All of us.'' A pause followed, Caranthir was ready for an attack, but one did not follow. “Tell me, how good of a mage is she?” Avallac’h pointed up the stairs. “If I am to...collapse the roof of this ugly tower, how long do you think she will last? A minute? A second?”
“Your issue is with me not with her.” Caranthir spoke through his teeth. “Besides, it doesn matter how good she is. I can protect her.” Avallac’h was bluffing. He would not do that...wouldn’t he? The man was pragmatic, logical, in his mind the life of all of the Aen Elle was more valuable than whatever might happen here, Caranthir understood that very well.
“Protect her? Like that other one? The one that the human mages killed? Did you tell her you will protect her too? Or there was no time for that.” The tower shook and Caranthir had just a second to stop his teacher's spell, before he found himself flying across the room and hitting the wall.
“The same way you promised Lara to protect her.” he got up, clearing blood from his mouth. “How did that work for you?.” he cast a spell, Avallac'h saw it and avoided the ice falling from the ceiling, but Caranthir knew that would happen, he moved the table behind Crevan and hit the small of his back forcing him on his hands and knees. They were even now.
They looked at each other, the anger in Avallac’h’s eyes softened, there was still displeasure, but the malice was gone.
Avallac'h stood unsure why he even did that. Why was he going so far? He did not come here to threaten Caranthir or that poor girl that had nothing to do with their past. He was happy Caranthir found someone, the kid deserved to feel something other than anger.
All he needed was Ciri's location, Caranthir must know something, otherwise he would be able to sense her. The logical explanation was he had cast a spell, he could walk for days through the palace, assuming she was in the palace and look for the spell, but he did not have days.
“I should have been kinder to you.” Avallac'h changed his approach. This was how he should have started. Tell him how he really felt, apologize, especially knowing that after today they would certainly be enemies and one of them would end up dead. Hopefully not, but it was a possibility. “I should have taught you how to love.” A pause followed and the navigator did not speak either. "I am not threatening anymore and I will not hurt her or you, unless you provoke me. Where is Ciri?" the young man laughed at his words.
“You should either continue with murder attempt or leave.” Caranthir finally said calmly
“I wish you could look beyond your own hatred.” Avallac’h sighed. “Lara taught me things I didn’t know. About myself. I think you have learned something about yourself tonight as well, my boy.”
Avallac'h couldn't believe how much alike the two of them were. Not in everything, and he was to blame for all of their similarities and differences. Ironically, he was not his biological father, but judging by their characters he might as well be.
“Avallac’h, it's too late to be my father.” Caranthir finally said as if reading his mind. It was a mix between regret and pain. "I will not tell you where she is. I will not betray Eredin."
Avallac'h nodded. That one was on him. He could have been smarter but his emotions took the best of him. He opened a portal and walked away. He was going to find her himself.
Caranthir stood there not sure what happened or why. He just stared at one point on the wall, his mind numb.
"Caranthir?" Aine's voice came from the stairs, he turned his head just to see her standing back at the stairs. The look on her eyes made him snap. She was scared and she was worried. For herself or for him? "Are you okay?" She asked and he stood there...for him? That was the first time…
"I'm okay. Let's go to bed." he walked to her and wrapped his around her shoulders.
Carathir woke up sensing his spell broken. Avallac’h finally found her. He knew it was just a matter of time after their conversation yesterday he just hoped it was in more time than that. Going back to Ti na Lia wasn’t something he wanted to do right now. Aine was still asleep, her small back pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms a bit tighter around her, he had never woken up next to someone in his life, nor had he ever had the desire to do so until now. He couldn’t believe how his entire life he had missed that. Sure, until now he had the need to be someone for more than a night only once before, but the whole feeling of having someone in his arms...he buried his face closer to her, inhaling the smell of wild flowers and pine from her hair. Caranthir wished he didn’t need to go to Tir na Lia now, he could spend the day here in bed just...holding her. That was new as well.
He felt her shift a bit and he released his grip not wanting to be clingy. Funny, he managed to sleep the whole night without moving at all, that was a first as well. She rolled over looking at him with sleepy eyes. Caranthir just stared. Even half awake she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He felt bad for waking her, probably it was his tight embrace, but he could just not control himself, he needed to feel her so badly against his skin.
“Good morning.” she said as her eyes were pinned on his, he couldn’t stop admiring all the color on her. The red hair, such a contrast to the paleness of his, the vividness of her eyes, compared to the dullness of his...
“Last night...I promise that won’t happen again.” she looked at him puzzled, again he realized what he said was stupid and he should use more than three words to describe things. “I don’t mean...I mean with Avallac’h and the tower. Not what happened before that.” what happened before that he hoped would happen again. More than once. “He was out of line.”
“He is your teacher, right?” she asked as she pulled herself closer to him. Caranthir just nodded. Avallac’h was more than a teacher to him and less at the same time, but now that was not his problem. He had to tell her that he needed to leave despite not knowing for sure yet. Truth was he had no idea what was going on in Tir na Lia, he knew someone broke his spell, probably Avallac’h no one else had the power to do so, not now. Maybe Eredin captured him...he had to go.
“He was my teacher.” he finally answered, realizing that silence lasted too long. “He is something else right now.” he had to tell her, but how to do that without making it sound as if he was abandoning her. Last night she told him this was what she was afraid of, being used and then left. “Tell…” he stopped and her eyebrows raised in curiosity. Did he really want to know? “Tell me about that man. The one you said...left you.”
Aine stared at his pale eyes not sure she understood the question. She understood the words, that was not the problem, but why was he asking about that all of a sudden? Then again, she had seen probably some of the most intimate moments of his life, it was just fair.
“Well...not much to say...he was someone close to my half brother, but wanted to be closer, get more power.” That happened years ago and it still hurt her in a way. It had been a valuable lesson to learn her place. Not that much because of what he did, but because it was such a good reminder for her she had no place, neither with humans nor with elves. “He thought my father valued me more than he actually did, and he was not entirely wrong, he encountered him at a time when he was somewhat affectionate to me. We spent months together, I was happy because I felt like finally I had found my place. Finally I wasn’t neither here nor there, I was a part of something, accepted by someone...a few months passed he finally understood that my father used me to show off to elves who were sympathetic to humans, parade how generous he was to me, and ignored me the rest of the time. He tried, he asked my father if being with me makes him part of the family, my father ignored him and there was that.”
“Did you ever…” Caranthir started and then stopped half way. It was curious how hard these questions were for him, but he was the one asking, she did not share that on her own. Aine could feel his body being tense around her, his embrace a bit stronger. “Did you ever have that with him?”
“That?” she had to try to suppress a laugh. “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘that’.”
Caranthir felt the air just stopping in his lungs. He knew jealousy as a feeling, but that was the first time he felt it in a romantic way. He wasn’t even sure why, whoever the elf was, that was in the past, he didn’t even know his name, and that was probably for the best as otherwise he would find him and kill him. Not for what he had done to her, but because they had something, no matter how fake it might have been. No, the real jealously came from the fact that he probably held her in his arms, the way he was holding her now, but he had not done that with anyone else.
“Held you in his arms?” he finally asked, knowing the answer.
“Caranthir, why are you asking?” she pushed herself away from him a bit, placing a hand on his chest and looking at him concerned. “Does it really matter what happened years ago, with someone who does not matter anymore?”
Why was he asking? She was right, it didn’t matter.
“We need to go back to Tir na Lia.” he finally said. He just didn’t want to sound like he was leaving her, but he was leaving her, even if it was not in the same way. “And I will have to leave with the king on a hunt most likely.” he saw the confusion and pain on her face. He reached quickly for her cheek and cupped it with his hand. “I did not plan for that to happen.”
“Can I stay here?” she finally asked, the concern in her eyes not disappearing but he could feel her body being less tense.
“No.” he laughed. “I might be gone for a day, but I might be gone for months. You can’t open a portal on your own, not even to move yourself downstairs. There is no way out of here but through a portal.” he kissed her forehead. “In Tir na Lia, you will have all of my servants, everything you’d ever need.”
“Caranthir, no…” she grabbed his hand from her face and held it in hers. “My place is not there, I’m neither human nor elf, I have no place in the palace. Not as an elf…”
He placed his finger on her lips making her silent.
“You have a place. Here and in Tir na Lia.” he opened a portal under the two of them and suddenly they moved to his rooms in Tir na Lia. They fell on his bed, the warm blankets from the Winter tower with them. “This is your place.”
Before she could protest again there was a knock on the door and one of his servants walked in, an elderly man who usually looked after everything.
“My lord, I was not aware you will be coming back.” the man bowed as he spoke, he looked at Aine for a second and then his eyes were on Caranthir again.
Aine pulled the covers closer to her chin as Caranthir got off the bed, the servant still standing there. That dynamic was not unfamiliar to her, the man was most likely trained all his life to do exactly what he was doing right now and Caranthir had grown up knowing humans were nothing but servants. She was the odd one in the situation. He got off the bed and walked around it, the servant's head bowed down but he followed his master’s movement as he went to the window on the other side of the bed. Aine used the chance to study the room, it was at least twice as big as the bedroom in the Winter Tower, the bed was softer, there was a small table with chairs, dresser next to the wall and vanity, but the mirror was covered with a sheet. That was curious, she realized just now that there was not a single mirror in the Winter Tower.
“I will be leaving Tir na Lia for a hunt.” Caranthir turned toward his servant. “In my absence, her word is my word.” The man did not answer to him, just gave her a quick look, almost as if trying to understand. Aine did not blame him. His life was easily defined. Humans served elves and there was that. She was neither. She wasn’t his mistress, nor wanted to be, but she was not his equal either. “Make sure you find her some clothes. We left everything at the Winter Tower.”
“Yes, my lord.” The man bowed and shot another look at her, filled with confusion as if he was trying to make sure he really understood his master’s commands. He nodded and walked out.
“You don’t need to do that.” she said as the man walked away. “I don’t need servants.”
Caranthir walked toward the bed and sat at the edge, the morning light from the window reflecting in the white lines of the scars on his body.
“You said you don’t have a place.” he ran his fingers through her face. “I’m giving you one. But you will not have a place, among the Aen Elle, or among the humans, unless you decide if you want to be Aen Elle or human. It’s yours.” he made a gesture with his other hand pointing at the vast room. “There is a study next door and all the books you need on magic...hopefully I will be back soon.”
He looked at her face trying to remember all the lines, how her red hair contrasted with her skin, the mismatching eyes, the curve on her nose, the fine on her cheekbones...he hoped that would take no more than a day but he knew Avallac’h he was clever and he had already seen the rest of the Red Riders preparing in the yard. It was a matter of time before Eredin came looking.
“Why are you doing that?” she finally asked him and he was taken aback. What sort of question was that? “You don’t need to.” she added. “You can leave me in the rooms where you kept me imprisoned, they are perfectly adequate, but you are giving me your rooms. Why?”
Caranthir could not answer these questions. He could, but not actually voice it. She made him feel good, she made him forget how bad he felt about himself, she made him feel wanted for something else than being Eredin’s Navigator. He also liked holding her in his arms, just having another being that accepted him for who and what he was. Someone who in a way was as lonely as he was, someone just as him, could never find their place, because he was not a warrior like Eredin and Imlerith, but he was also different from Avallac’h. Or at least wanted to be.
“Come.” he took her hand in his and walked with her to the window where he was standing just a moment ago. She hesitated for a moment to step closer, she had nothing covering her body. “It’s okay the rooms are high enough, even if someone looks they can’t see you.” He pushed her closer to the glass and wanted her to see what he was looking at just a moment ago. Eredin and the rest of the Red Riders rushing around the yard, preparing to leave. He had not spoken with him, but he already knew what was going on. “I’m doing that, because you are doing something for me.” he kissed her neck where he could still see the marks he left on her last night. “Something to me.” He placed his hands over her belly and slid them up to her breasts, but she stopped him.
“A payment?” there was hurt in her words and Caranthir stepped back, she was not turning but she could see his reflection in the window.
“No.” he wished he was able to express what was going on in his head. The fact that he did not want to leave, not now that he actually felt good for the first time in many years. “Gratitude. Appreciation.” yes, that sounded closer to what he was feeling, probably not an accurate description but as close as he could allow himself to admit aloud. He wrapped his hands around her again, but this time sank his teeth in her skin, pulling her closer to himself trying to remember how her skin feels against his. One hand sliding between her legs, the other reaching for her breasts but she stopped him again.
“Not like that.” she turned around and faced him, placing a hand on his chest just over his heart. “Gentle.”
“I’m not sure I know how.” it wasn’t a lie. Last night was the nicest he had ever been to someone in bed and he still wasn’t sure that qualified as gentle.
“I can help you.” she stepped on her tip toes and kissed his lips. Caranthir didn’t even need to think about it, his whole body was just responding to her.
“I don’t have a lot of time.” It was partially an excuse to hide his lack of experience in being kind, but also truth. It was a matter of minutes before Eredin asked for him. He wanted to treat her differently than everyone else and he was far less ashamed of himself around her, he wouldn’t be standing naked in front of her now if that was not the case, but he had no idea where to start from.
“You don’t need a lot of time.” she kissed him again, this time he was trying to memorize the sweetness of her taste.
Aine wasn’t even sure where all that courage came in her, she knew she wanted him, just this time she wanted to look at his face, all the time. As much as she liked last night, that was different. He said he could be away for months, so she wanted to remember him.
“I will try.” he groaned as he reached down and lifted her, placing her on the window sill but still supporting most of her body. He moved one hand between her legs running a finger through her entrance feeling that she was already wet. Redness crawled trough her neck and cheeks having herself for a second day spread like that for him.
“Slowly.” she moaned as his finger was replaced by the tip of his cock. He listened, he pushed slowly in her, his hand grabbing her chin and made her look at him as he was slowly pushing in her. He was careful and gentle, trying to be. The hand that was supporting her was still digging in her skin, probably leaving bruises and she could see the lust in his eyes.
As he pushed all the way in he leaned forward and kissed her, moving the hand that was holding her chin to where they were connected, his thumb easily reaching for her clit.
“I don’t have time.” he whispered in her ear as he picked up the pace. She kissed his chest trying to silence her moans. Despite his faster and harsher pace he was trying to be kind, his lips were on her neck, but this time kissing not biting. She wrapped her legs around his urging him to go faster even if he did not really need the invitation. He moved his lips to hers just before she came around him, as his own moves became more frantic and needy. Couple of thrusts later and he came slamming his hand at the window behind her to find support.
Neither of them moved for a second, she couldn’t until he did, and he was just leaning over her looking at her unfocused and trying to catch his breath.
He didn’t step away from her but grabbed her and threw her on the bed, her back hitting the softness of the mattress.
“How was that for ‘nice’?” He did not follow her in bed, but watched her naked shape over the covers.
“We need to practice.” she teased him, as she was trying to memorize every inch of his body.
“When I am back.” he leaned forward and kissed her. For a second she thought he would follow her in bed, but he stopped over her. He pulled one of the rings from his hand and handed it to her, it was different from the one he used to teach her. This one was just a band with runes marked on it. “Keep that with yourself. If something happens, I can find it.”
“If something happens?” she could sense concern in his voice. Happens to her or to him? “No more tracking spells?” she teased, not wanting to even imagine what ‘something happens’ could mean. Not now.
“No tracking spells.” he touched her lips with his thumb. “If you are to walk away now, and leave the ring here, I won’t be able to find you.”
She wanted to tell him that she wouldn't leave, not unless he asked her to, but a knock on the door prevented that.
“My lord.” it was his servant. “The king is asking for you.”
27 notes · View notes
pemfrost · 3 years
Note
For the prompt, maybe a fake dating au with dimiclaude? Like academy-era Dimitri decided to go asks girl out (sylvain c/b support ) and when things go out of hand- instead of going to sylvain for help, he went to Claude who suggested fake dating - but when announcing it to the girl; it turns out the entire academy finds out...leading to the king regent (who sends Rodrigue) and Grandpa Riegan to actually sign a marriage arrangement. 🥺❤️
And honestly Edelgard is confused about the development that she doesn’t declare war since the two nations are gonna team up -so golden ending jk
♡ cute idea! The meat of this drabble went a little long, so no specific mention of the royal consequences.
"You did what?" Claude actually had the audacity to laugh. Not one of his usual calculated laughs, either. A bellow of a laugh which shook his whole lithe frame and put an extra shine in his eyes. All at Dimitri's expense, of course. It seemed to be happening a lot lately. 
"Never mind. Clearly this is not a matter you are capable of taking seriously." Dimitri turned to leave, but quickly remembered his predicament. On Sylvain's insistence, he approached a female student with the offer of a tea date. Nothing untoward, but it seemed the poor girl thought it to be more than what Dimitri meant it to be. It really was his own fault for taking Sylvian's advice, afterall. 
Of course, Sylvain initially offered to help Dimitri hide in his room, and Dimitri had been naive enough to think it would end then and there. Yet, there he was, two days later with the same girl chasing him and Sylvain was… preoccupied doing the very thing he promised Dimitri he would stop. 
Claude's room seemed the next logical escape plan. It was merely the convenience of location. Felix was still at the training yards, and even if he was in his room, Dimitri would rather face the advances of Colleen and her friends than be stuck in close quarters with Felix and his sharp tongue. The next closest room was Claude's.
Dimitri was quickly regretting his hasty choice of hiding spots. He was regretting a lot of things. 
"I'm sorry for laughing, but you have to admit it is funny." Claude sat down on the edge of his bed and motioned to his desk chair, "You're welcome to hide as long as you need to. Though, perhaps it is best to just confront the whole thing head on and clear it all up?"
Dimitri eyed the chair and considered a moment before sitting. "I have attempted to be direct, yet my efforts are constantly misconstrued."
"You're too nice," Claude said, his gaze intense. 
"Too… nice?" Dimitri raised an eyebrow. It was not an accusation often leveled at him. 
"I've witnessed some of your conversations with girls and you have a tendency to, well, be too nice." Claude broke eye contact and looked towards the door. "You do not wish to hurt their feelings, so you phrase your rejections so delicately the girls do not take it as one."
"Oh?" Dimitri was unaware of this shortcoming. 
Claude sighed and made a vague gesture at the door as a girl giggled out in the hallway. He turned back to Dimitri and said, with air quotes, "There is such love in the world, yet my heart is yet-"
"-I get it.'
"Your beauty is unmatched, and one day you will make the most beautiful bride-"
"Claude," Dimitri hissed. He could feel his cheeks begin to warm. 
Of course, Claude continued, his grin spreading as Dimitri shifted uncomfortably. "My heart is heavy at the prospect of you no longer being at my side, and your smile will-"
"Enough!" Dimitri stood quickly and his booming voice drowned out the sound of the chair hitting the floor. 
"Colleen!" A girl's voice came from the hallway. 
"Oooo, you did it now!" Claude clasped his hands behind his head and looked at the door with far too much amusement. 
Dimitri stared at the door with trepidation, debating the merits of crawling out Claude's window. He could hear the clicking of multiple pairs of heels, his time was quickly running out. Returning his voice to a whisper, he turned to Claude and asked, "What do I do?"
"Be blunt and tell her you are not interested." 
"I… can you do it for me?" Even facing certain doom, he didn't know how to break up with the poor girl without making it worse. Again. 
Claude rolled his eyes. "Riiight, because that will work."
There was a sharp knock at the door, followed by a croon of, "Dimiiiitri! Are you in there?"
"Colleen, it may have been this one instead!"
Dimitri backed away from the door and again wondered if he could fit through the window. He looked helplessly to Claude. He had no experience in such matters, certainly Claude had an idea. 
"Do you trust me?" Claude stood from the bed and stared into his eyes. "I have half an idea, but I need you to-"
"Yes. Whatever your scheme is, yes." Dimitri may regret it later, but in the moment his only option was to trust Claude and deal with the consequences later. It couldn't be worse than entertaining the vapid noble girl one more time. 
Claude stared into Dimitri's eyes a moment more, his green eyes more serious than Dimitri had ever seen this close. Before he could contemplate Claude further, the look shifted, once again full of mirth. 
"Quietly unlock the door." Claude nodded to the door and crossed his arms. 
"I-" Dimitri swallowed and did as he was asked. Quietly, he stepped over the overturned chair and flicked the lock. He braced for the next step, it wouldn't surprise him if Claude shouted his location as revenge for all of this. He needed to stop spending so much time with Sylvain. 
When he looked back, Claude wordlessly motioned him back to him with the wave of a single finger. Once again, Dimitri stepped over the chair and stood in front of Claude, intently listening to the commotion in the hallway. 
Nothing happened for a few breaths, and just a Dimitri was about to ask what the plan was, Claude took half a step towards him. 
"Oh! Dimitri!" Claude projected his voice, not taking his eyes off Dimitri.  
Well, maybe he shouldn't have expected more from Claude. His initial assessment was correct after all. He sighed, resigned to his fate. 
The click of heels returned, and as they approached the door Claude reached for the front of Dimitri's shirt and slowly tugged at him as he took a step backwards. The movement was unexpected and Dimitri stumbled forward, tripping over Claude, and sending them falling to Claude's bed. 
Dimitri caught his knee on the edge of the mattress as Claude landed on his elbows. 
"Claude? Wha-" 
The creak of the door handle turning cut him off. As the door opened, Claude reached back up with one hand and pulled Dimitri closer, and closer, until they were breathing the same air. Everything else faded, all that existed was Claude; his breath smelled faintly of chamomile, and this close Dimitri could count the faint freckles under his eyes.
"Dimit- ah!" Colleen's screech broke the spell Claude cast over him. 
Dimitri pushed himself away from Claude and looked towards the door in time to see Colleen running out. 
"Uh…" Dimitri said to the empty doorway. He looked down to Claude, "What just happened?"
Claude dropped his hand from where he still held Dimitri, letting it fall to his side. "I wasn't expecting her to run so soon. The plan was to make her think we're together- but she didn't stay for me to tell her that. Hopefully she understood."
He didn't want to end up in another relationship just to get out of the first one. That was a terrible plan, and he was about to tell Claude as such when the boy in question began to laugh. Dimitri became abruptly aware of how close they still were as Claude's body shook with laughter. 
Dimitri stood as quickly as his trembling legs permitted. 
"I'm sorry, but your face!" Claude smirked up at him, still laying on the bed. "I didn't mean date for real," he added with a whisper, mindful of the open door. 
"Oh, I see…" Dimitri did not see. 
"It's a farce. A lie. And once she leaves you alone we don't need to pretend anymore."
"She saw… us. In that compromising position. I am free then? Thank you." Dimitri slowly pieced his words together. 
Claude hummed and finally sat up. "It may not be that simple. Be prepared in case she doubles down tomorrow."
Dimitri nodded and cleared his throat. His eyes trailed towards Claude's lips briefly before he turned to pick up the fallen chair.  "Hopefully I will not require more assistance. Thank you for your efforts, this farce was not something I would have considered."
With a shrug, Claude stood. "Always happy to help. Good luck with-" They both froze as the sound of heels returned. 
Dimitri turned to Claude, eyes wide, unsure what to do. His hope of being done with Colleen dashed with the click of a heel. 
"Still trust me?"
Dimitri nodded. 
"I'm going to kiss you." Claude stepped up to Dimitri and gently placed a hand on his cheek. As the girls stepped into the doorway, he leaned up to press his lips to Dimitri's. 
In the few seconds he had to contemplate kissing Claude, Dimitri imagined it would be rough, quick- awkward. It was none of them, and he found himself leaning into the kiss, moving his lips against Claude's like his very soul depended on them never separating. He thought he finally understood Sylvain a little, the desire to experience this everyday, to have someone so close, so intimate, to feel wanted-
But it wasn't real. Claude wasn't kissing him because he wanted Dimitri, he was doing it as a friend, as a favor. Not because he actually desired him in such a way.
"By the Goddess! It is true!" Hilda's sweet voice broke through the moment. 
Claude dropped his hand and turned to the door, breaking the kiss. Dimitri could feel the lingering heat on his cheek from Claude's calloused hand, and he let his eyes dart to his lips before reality caught up with him and he looked towards their audience.  
In the open doorway stood three of their classmates. Hilda was in the middle, looking like she was solving an advanced math problem. To her right was Caspar, who was more focused on Hilda than Claude and Dimitri. And to her left was Sylvain who was sporting black eye and looking between the two of them with a widening smile. 
Sylvain reached around Hilda and closed the door with a wink and an amused, "Have fun, you two!"
Dimitri stared at the door as he listened to them walk away. "Should we tell them?"
"Tell them what?"
"That it isn't what they think? Because otherwise this lie will spread around the whole school."
"Oh, Dimitri. It already has. If Colleen hasn't ran all the way through the monastery by now I'd be surprised." He looked everywhere but Dimitri. 
"If we tell them the truth, then she'll find out… and I'll be right back to square one." Dimitri frowned and began to pace. 
"I don't mind keeping the charade up. It will keep Hilda off my back about dating someone, too. We'd both be free of the burden of that aspect of social expectations."
"That-" Dimitri's eyes darted to Claude's lips. 
"No pressure, man. Wouldn't want His Highness to be uncomfortable, afterall." 
Dimitri couldn’t think of a good reason not to go along with Claude's plan. He was sure the consequences would find him, they always did, but he found he didn't care what they were. 
He nodded, then realized Claude turned to look out the window while he was thinking. "Yes, I believe this could be mutually beneficial."
Claude dropped back to his bed and picked up the book he tossed aside when Dimitri barged into his room. "Great. Hang out in here for a while to sell it. Want to borrow a book?"
Dimitri settled next to Claude on the bed, "If we are to actually… do this, we should get our story together. I am sure we will be inundated with questions tomorrow."
Claude shut his book. "And he I was worried you wouldn't take this seriously. Alright, let's plan."
-
Thanks for reading!
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repentantsky · 3 years
Text
6 Times Nintendo Asked for Too Much Money, for Too Little in Return, on Switch, or Despite It
I’m critical of anyone who I think is ripping people off, and Nintendo, sadly, espeically since it’s games don’t drop in price, has done that a lot. That’s not to say Sony and Microsoft have never done it before, but since the Direct was an egregious reminder of how they mishandle business, I thought now was as good a time as any to remind people, they kind of have a history. 
6.  Charging over $100, for a remake’s full content
Now, I will say, in most cases a remake can go full price. If it’s ground up like a remake should be, and adds extra features or content to sweeten the deal, that’s fair play, however, locking content behind a paywall is cheap. Enter Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadow of Valentia. While the base game was just full price, which was 40 bucks on the 3DS, it cost far more to unlock all of it’s extra content. A $25 dollar Amiibo combo back, which unlocked special content, and a $50 dollar season pass, which was mostly just new dungeons and weapons, brought the total to $115 dollars for all it’s content. Hey, I get it, DLC is a thing, but a season pass that costs more than the base game, is just a shitty thing to do. Nintendo even went so far as to alter how they added it up, to make it seem cheaper than it was. To make matters worse, they did all this while giving out free content like crazy on Nintendo Switch games, kind of telling everyone who wasn’t an early adopter of the system, to screw off. It was also the first real screw ball thing they did after Satoru Iwata-San had passed away. Talk about a spit in the face. 
5. Overcharging for MicroSD’s.
One of the major problems of the Switch, is that it has too little space for all the games Nintendo wants you to buy on it, and to be fair, that we also want to buy on it. While most first party titles are pretty small in terms of what they require from the Switch, it has a massive 3rd party library as well, and how does Nintendo handle that, by charging double for what anyone could get for MicroSD’s that do exactly what the Nintendo branded ones do. I mean, seriously, imagine paying 100 bucks for 256GB of space, when you could pay 50. Be careful about that though, some MicroSD’s couldn’t be formatted, which would mean you couldn’t you them on the Switch. While that seems to have calmed down more over the years, it still happened at the time, and it still sucked. Overcharging because your name is on a product, is shameful, and screw everyone that does it, Nintendo included. 
4. Charging for Nintendo Online. 
I get it, Microsoft and Sony do it, and I hate that as well, but at least in return, you can get some actually decent games, and better deals on products, espeically with PSN for the latter, and come on, Game Pass is worth it no matter who you are. Nintendo though, even though it’s cheaper, has thus far refused to release any games past SNES era, a large portion of games released on Nintendo Online are cheap 3rd party rip-off’s of first party Nintendo games, and it really doesn’t appear like Nintendo plans to make the service truly worth it any time soon. As much as I love Nintendo, it’s really hard to justify paying for an online service that nets you so little, but alas, here we are. 
3. New Super Bros U Deluxe 
Yeah, a full price port of a game is never a good idea, and this whole list could have been made of them. Instead, I’m only going to include a few, but this one might be the worst. I mean, Super Mario Bros U is a great game, but it’s not worth full price just because it got ported. There’s not that much content there, even with the added Luigi U content inspired by the year of Luigi. It’s a hard sell trying to convince a logical person that the same 4 hour game, with an extra hour to hour and a half of content, which is just levels you already played as Mario, is a good buy, because it isn’t. I don’t know what Nintendo was thinking with this port, and it’s sad to see it, but alas, like all Nintendo games, it’s still full price on their store.
2. Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE
I will put it on record that I love Tokyo Mirage Sessions, it’s a somewhat more light-hearted game than the it’s source material, at least from Atlus’ end, but that doesn’t make it bad at all, in fact it’s great. However, it kinda failed on the Wii U, quickly leaving store shelves and never being heard from again until it’s Switch version was announced. It’s still a great game on the Switch, but either Nintendo got greedy, or Atlus let them, and a game that basically a commercial failure, came out at full price same as before, and that was easily a deterrent for many, as it should be. Selling a port of a game that flopped on a system that flopped, isn’t exactly a good consumer move, and yet, it’s exactly what happened. 
 1. Asking you to pay more for Miitopia
Look, I get that there is certain difference between playing a game on a handheld, and playing it on your 4K TV if you have one, and I’ll admit the idea of play Miitopia on my 4K display is both appealing and hilarious, but it’s just a port. It’s not a remaster, it’s a port. And for that extra 10 bucks we get what, a horse and some makeup? How people can justify that is beyond me. The “Oh I didn’t play it on 3DS so this will be my first time buying it” is an excuse to hide behind because your love of Nintendo is too strong. If don’t call out a company for it’s bad practices, or buy into those practices, they are only going to do worse, and if this list isn’t proof of that, that I don’t know what to tell you. Charging more for a port than an original release is shady though. 
And that’s my list, did I miss anything you think was too much on the Nintendo Switch? Let me know in the comments below, reblog this post if it interested you, feel free to leave a note, and hey, if you think I’m biased against Nintendo, just look at the photo I post that’s coming directly after this goes live. Have a good freaking day/night whatever your time zone’s got you on.  
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willow-salix · 3 years
Text
It’s here, Virgil’s FabFiveFeb
A nice little bit of Virg fluff for @gumnut-logic
"I think he'd like someone that has an interest in creative pursuits," Gordon mused, poking one of the boxes to tick it. 
"And someone that likes to go for walks, you know what he's like for wanting to wander and take in the scenery, maybe even snap some pictures to paint later," Scott added, touching another box to tick it. 
"More of a home body than an adventurer, he gets enough of that with work," Gordon added it to the list. "And they definitely have to believe that family is important, he can't have someone that won't understand his commitments."
"OK, next, all about him," Scott scrolled down to the next section. "His interests…"
"Classical music, obviously."
"Enjoys visiting art galleries and concerts."
"And eating out."
"Don't we all?" 
Gordon nodded at that, there was nothing they liked more than picking up some tasty food. 
"Ideal date? What's that movie he likes? The one with the lake house?" 
"Oh, I know the one you mean, with the…the…" Scott's brain failed to make the connection, romantic comedies were not his thing, that was what Virgil watched with Selene, not him. 
"Doesn't matter," Gordon assured him, brushing it aside. "He liked the date so I'm putting it down. A relaxed stroll along a lake side at sunset," he murmured to himself as he quickly typed it out. 
"That's the one," Scott nodded. "He-" 
"Allie! Have you seen Scott?" The sound of Virgil's voice floating up from the kitchen made them both jump guilty. 
"I think he's in the lounge," Alan shouted back. 
"Shit!" 
"He's coming!" 
"Quick, submit it, submit it!" Gordon smacked at the submit button, growling in frustration when a flashing red 'incomplete field' warning mocked them. 
The sound of steel capped boots thumping up stairs spurred them on. 
"Just tick anything!" Scott yelped, fingers flying as he randomly poked boxes in between Gordon whacking the submit button like it had personally offended him. 
"Yes!" Gordon sighed as the 'congratulations' sign appeared in green. "Done!" 
Scott just had time to hit the x and pull up a report before Virgil strolled his way in. 
"What are you two doing?" he asked suspiciously, stopping dead in the doorway when he was greeted by the sight of the two brothers least likely to be discussing a report seeming to be doing just that. 
"Nothing!" Gordon yelped just as Scott yelled "Reports" which was definitely upping the suspicion levels. He didn't believe them. 
"I don't believe you," Virgil told them firmly, attempting to give them the kind of 'don't lie to me' eyebrow raise that Selene or John managed to pull off but knew he had failed. Damn the fact that he was the nice one and they both knew that any and all threats he might issue would go unfulfilled. 
"You doubt me?" Scott gasped in mock outrage. "Me? Your big brother? The one that always has your back?" 
"And me, your wingman? The one that always fixes your hairdryer fuse?" 
"One time Gordon! That was one time! And it wasn't my hairdryer!" 
"I don't know, you bought it, you keep it in your bathroom and you warned us all that we couldn't borrow it on pain of death, so that evidence all points to it being your hairdryer…" 
"I won't stay here to be insulted," Virgil sniffed indignantly, "I'm gonna go find Kayo and see if she'll help me with the inlet manifold, at least she can take instructions and won't lie to me."
They watched him stomp away in a huff, breathing a sigh of relief when the sound of his boots faded into nothing. 
"Damn, that was close," Scott gulped, clicking back onto the dating website to check it had worked. His eyes widened when he looked at the screen. 
"What? What's wrong?" 
"He's got three inboxes already."
"Seriously? Already, it's been what, five minutes?" 
"Yep."
"We’re gonna be spoilt for choice."
"I guess that just means we have more chance of picking him a good one, he needs to get out more."
"He'll thank us for it in the end."
       ***
"I don't understand, why do I have to dress up?" Virgil groaned. "I'm tired, I've had a long day, why do we need to go to the mainland just to pick up pizza?" 
Gordon glanced at Scott for help. None was forthcoming. He nudged him for emphasis. 
"Fine," Scott sighed, admitting defeat. Honesty was always the best policy anyway. "We arranged a blind date for you."
"You did what?" Virgil exploded. "Why the hell would you do that?" 
"We thought you needed to get out more," Gordon shrugged. "We were trying to help."
"I don't need your help, I didn't ask for it."
"Not like you were going to meet anyone on your own, was it?" Gordon continued to needle.
"John did! So did Scott. I am perfectly capable of getting my own dates."
"John is an enigma that none of us understand and Cat's my ex, I was recycling, that doesn't count."
"Do not let her hear you say that," Gordon laughed. 
"My point still stands," Scott insisted waving away the worry about his girlfriend, "we don't have a normal job or the chance to socialise much, and unless fate decides to be nice and throw someone at you like it did for John or you have an ex hidden away somewhere, you can't use us as an example."
"You don't want to let her down, do you?" Gordon tossed in, knowing that his softie brother would feel guilty as hell if he upset anyone. "How would you feel if you got dumped before you'd even met the person?" 
Virgil wanted to argue the point some more, but honesty and his vow never to lie to himself stopped him. They did have a point, a small one, but still pointy and therefore he was unable to ignore their logic. He decided to give in, although he refused to do so gracefully or with any forgiveness of their plotting. Plus, they were right, he wouldn't want to be responsible for anyone feeling like they weren't good enough in any way, shape or form.
"Looks like I don't have much of a choice…" he started only to be interrupted by the victorious cheers of his brothers. "Do you have a picture of her?" 
"Nope," Scott grinned. "We signed you up with that new site where pictures aren't allowed, you pick based on shared interests and compatibility, not looks."
"That's…actually a nice idea," Virgil acknowledged reluctantly. He wasn't one to judge people on looks, he cared more about personality and morals. 
"See, we knew you'd approve," Gordon grinned, slapping him on the back. 
"I didn't say I approved of this-" 
"Come on, hurry up, you don't want to be late for your date!" 
   ***
Virgil waited nervously on the picnic bench, clutching the single sunflower Scott had thrust at him like it was a weapon, ready to fend off anything if his blind date turned out to be some kind of psycho.
They couldn't be too careful, they were far too used to people trying to find out details about them or to trick them in some way. No one was ever as they seemed. 
Scott had assured him that they hadn't used his real name and that no one would associate it with him but he couldn't help the little nagging doubts that gnawed away at the back of his mind. 
Plus he still hadn't forgiven them for pulling this stunt on him. Did they really think he was that bad at dating that he needed such help? He wasn't bad at dating, he got plenty of offers for a hook up, they all did. Well, not John but he was hardly ever out on rescues and Selene was common knowledge now but, to the rest of the world, him and his "single" brothers were all fair game. 
Butt gropes and comments about their hard muscles were a common occurrence, so much so that he often felt like a piece of meat being squished and tested before purchase. Another reason why he rarely managed to meet anyone that he could actually see himself wanting to date. 
Maybe their idea, while badly executed and heavy in trickery and taken liberties, hadn't come from a bad place. He'd worried the whole way to the meeting spot that they might have picked the worst candidate they could, but he firmly forced the thought out of his head. His brothers might like to indulge in mutual pranking and to push the limits sometimes but they would never do anything to hurt or embarrass someone, especially not a stranger. The thought had calmed him down enough that he hadn't had to make use of Two's on board bathroom facilities for an emergency freshen up because he'd stress sweated through the nice shirt and jacket they had forced him into. 
He'd managed to relax a little but, now that he was sitting here alone, waiting and looking out for someone he had no clue about, he was starting to worry again. 
Seeing an abandoned pen on the picnic table he snatched a few napkins from the dispenser and let his eyes roam the scenery. 
It really was a gorgeous place, something often referred to as a little slice of heaven in the city. The urban park, man made in the center of the mass of concrete and steel, sported a carefully constructed lake that was home to a teeming ecosystem of endangered species that exhaustive conservation efforts had made possible. 
The sun was just beginning to lower towards the horizon, painting the sky and the surface of the lake with the most beautiful colours. Virgil's fingers itched to paint them but he settled for snapping a couple of pictures on his phone. 
Trees of all types surrounded the lake, creating an attractive backdrop to the whole scene and before he even realised he was doing it he was deep in concentration as he sketched the lake area on the napkin. 
The process was calming, helping to soothe his nerves and slow his thumping heart, allowing him to stop and breathe for a second, helping him to resist the urge to cut and run. 
"Are you Virgil Grant? You have a sunflower." 
The voice behind him made him jump and drop his pen. 
"Yes, yes I am," he admitted as he turned around to face his date. 
      ***
"So, how did it go?" Scott asked when they arrived to pick Virgil up, less than half an hour after he'd text for a ride. "Did you have a good time?" 
"I had a great time," Virgil smiled. 
"You were gone a long time," Gordon grinned, nudging his older brother playfully with his elbow. "Did you go back to her place or something?" 
"Yeah, we did."
"You did? You dog you!" Gordon leered with an exaggerated wink. Virgil just smiled, taking the teasing with his usual good grace. 
"You gonna see her again?" Scott asked, pleased that their plan seemed to have gone so well. 
Virgil nodded. "I told her I'd drop in as soon as I'm free."
"Come on, give us all the juicy details, tell us all about, Emma, wasn't it?" Gordon pushed, desperate for gossip. 
"Nothing much to tell," Virgil shrugged. "She's sweet, we had a nice time hanging out, she gave me her number."
"That's it? That's all you can tell us?" Gordon groaned, disappointment evident in his voice. 
"No, that's all I'm going to tell you," Virgil corrected. "You've interfered in my private life enough already, thank you."
"Oh, come on, Virg," Scott pleaded. But the big guy wouldn't budge, staying smugly silent the entire journey home. 
Gordon and Scott had given up by the time they eased the little jet back into the hangar, going off to do their own thing, hopefully to remove his dating profile, leaving Virgil alone. 
Selene and John were cuddled up together on one of the couches, watching something on the holoscreen when he made his way into the lounge. 
He hadn't meant to disturb them, especially when they were actually getting some time alone for once, and was about to make his excuses but Selene had other ideas. She patted the couch beside her, shifting over to make room for him. 
He accepted the offer, sitting down and getting comfortable. He didn't know what they were watching, possibly some kind of documentary. 
"Cookie?" he offered, pulling a baggie of what looked to be pretty decent cookies out of his jacket pocket. 
Selene glanced up from the screen, looking first at the bag of cookies and then at Virgil, her eyes widening in surprise. 
"You're all dressed up."
This got John's attention as he reached for a cookie. "Have you been somewhere?" 
Selene selected a cookie and took a big bite. "Oh, damn, these are so good, where did you get them?" 
"My date made them for me," Virgil grinned, consuming almost half a cookie in one bite. 
"Wait, wait, back up, date?" Selene actually paused the documentary, something about William Shakespeare by the looks of it. 
"You had a date? That wasn't on the calendar?" John frowned. "Were they cleared by security?" 
"The romance is strong in this family," Selene drawled, rolling her eyes. 
"Scott and Gordon decided that signing me up to dating sites is their new hobby," Virgil sighed. 
"They arrange the date? What were they like? Did you have a good time? Witchy needs details," Selene gently shoved John's face away from her as he chewed loudly in her ear and leant closer to Virgil.
"We actually had a nice time. Emma, my date, is a local, lived there all her life. She's been a bit lonely so her friend set her up on the site. We wandered around a lake for a bit and then we went back to her place."
"Awww, so romantic," Selene sighed dreamily before mock glaring at her husband. "Why don't you take me on dates any more?" 
"Because we only got back off our honeymoon a few weeks ago and we live on an island?" 
"No excuse."
"Dinner on the mainland next week?" 
"Thought you'd never ask," she stole a quick kiss as he rolled his eyes in defeat. "Got any pictures?" 
"Of the restaurant? Are you needing to inspect my reservation making skills now?" 
"I was talking to Virgil."
"Oh, then carry on."
"Virg, pictures?" 
"I did take one, yes," he pulled out his phone, scrolled through for a couple of seconds then turned the phone to show them the screen. "I took a selfie of us at the lake." 
Selene and John blinked, unsure if they were seeing the right picture. 
"Erm… not to be a judgey judgerson or anything but…" Selene trailed off. 
"But she has to be older than Grandma," John finished for her, blunt and to the point as always.
They both looked at the picture again, showing a goofily grinning Virgil next to a sweet older lady, her blue rinsed hair set in a helmet of curls, her half moon glasses perched on her nose. 
"Again, not with the judging, you do you, but does she have to watch her heart? She needs to be careful if she's going out picking up handsome young men."
"Stop, please stop," Virgil groaned. "She didn't know how old I was. Gordon and Scott set it up and apparently they somehow, and I choose to believe it was unintentional, managed to upload my profile to the over 60s side."
"And you didn't correct her?" John had to ask. He knew his brother was the nice one of the family but that was a little ridiculous. 
"Of course I did, but we were there and she hadn't been out in a few weeks. Her grandson moved away for work and her husband died a few years ago so I bought her dinner and we had a nice walk around the park. She wasn't actually looking for a romantic date, she just wanted a companion, someone to chat to, go for a walk with and maybe see an exhibition or two. Her friend at the widows club set it up for her."
"So you were both set up by others?" 
"Yep. She's a really nice lady."
"And that walk around the park turned into cookies at her place?" John's fingers snuck into the bag again to take another. 
"And banana bread. She mentioned that she was going to hire a handyman to fix her sink because her daughter was too busy and she didn't have any help now."
"Ahhh," Selene could see exactly where this was going. 
"And so I offered to unblock her sink for her."
"Of course you did," John sighed, hiding his smile against Selene's shoulder. 
"And while I was there I put up some new shelves for her and took her trash cans out to the kerb and retuned her TV. She made me cookies to say thank you."
"She sounds lovely," Selene cooed, already in love with the thought of her. She could take or leave it when it came to little kids, usually leave if she was being honest, but she was a complete suckee when it came to the elderly. 
"She is, smart too. I complimented some of the paintings she had on her walls and she told me she'd painted them, her and her husband met at art school and used to go on vacation to different countries to visit galleries and take classes. I showed her a few pictures of some of my pieces and it turned out she'd seen one of mine in a gallery in New York, you know that one of the Sphinx I did from that picture I took after that rescue?"
"Do I take it that our darling brothers don't know any of this?" 
"Nope," Virgil grinned. "I'm letting them stay curious, they asked me all sorts of questions on the way back but I stayed quiet. I'll tell them eventually, once all the cookies are gone." He picked another out of the rapidly depleting stash. 
"I have never heard a more Virgil story in my entire life," Selene laughed, shaking her head. "So when are you seeing her again?" 
"Gonna try and visit next week to mow her lawn," Virgil admitted, looking somewhat sheepish. 
"Hey, no," Selene grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight. "No looking embarrassed. You're amazing, it's a totally you thing to go on a date, not get what you were expecting and still come away with an old lady best friend and having had a great time. That's one of the many reasons I love you, because you're just so you."
"She's right," John added, patting his brother's shoulder. "One thing I've learnt the last few years is that you shouldn't make excuses for who you are or try to change. Don't belittle the fact that you have probably made her happier than she has been in months just by giving her some time and treating her with respect. Don't undervalue that."
"Yeah," Virgil acknowledged. "I know I did the right thing, it doesn't hurt to help someone and I had fun too." 
"And that's all that matters," Selene said, patting his hand one last time before she let it go. 
"Yep," he smiled, settling back against the cushions, munching on his cookie, his cheeks bulging like a hamster's, muffling his words. "That and the fact that her granddaughter is a nurse and she's going to introduce us next month."
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faakeid · 3 years
Note
fab nygmobblepot moments that remind you of kd uwu
OMGGGG AHDAHDUIADHAD
I want to use this moment to be sorry to everyone that follows me but keeps seeing my blog full of Nygmobs/Smaylor instead of kaisoo. I usually don’t get attached to otps like this and it happened in an unexpected way for me. But it’s here and I need to compensate for all the years I didn’t watch Gotham and had no idea about Nygmobs spamming everyone and making my heart warm.
But in general, nygmobblepot isn’t a vision of ideal relationship. Both Edward and Oswald (their surnames Cobblepot and Nygma were the ones who originated this name) are stupid and do stupid shit to each other during most of the series. So, a lot of moments related with the actors counterpart (Robin is the actor who plays Oswald and Cory who plays Ed) reminds me of kaisoo more. But a warning here! Although they have a HUGE chemistry on and off screen, they’re mostly friends. Robin is married for almost ten years so it doesn’t mean their closeness is romantic or sexual. But still, some details remind me of kd.
Similarities with nygmobs:
Height difference: it applies to Smaylor as well because it’s their height but it’s really visible in the series. Cory is a bit taller than JI I think and Robin is like 1.65 but KS is not that taller (I can’t believe he’s 1.73 at all, sorry). But, again, this factor is evident during the series and in some moments and it’s cute.
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(the way he moves his feet to reach Ed’s head ;_;)
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(when they hug, Oswald barely reaches his shoulders [their hugs are the equivalent to kisses in Gotham])
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the closest gif I could find where we can see kd’s height difference without me stealing other people’s gifs.
Penguin reference? That’s pretty obvious. Of course I didn’t start shipping nygmobs because one of them is small and has the Penguin nickname but it made so much easier for me to read some of their fics with kd as characters because they fit the profile so much! And also, I believe KD would totally fit the “murder husbands” couple if someone did a fanfic where they just kill everyone. The closest I remember of a fanfic with this criteria is Juice Pouche where Kyungsoo is a vampire and he protects Jongin and Jongin is kind of badass as well. But the kd fandom needs more fics like this. There’s also “(Before the night is over) come see me” where KS is also a vampire and JI a young werewolf but it focuses more on their relationship than a murder husbands idea Gotham shows so well. 
How they met: Gotham’s history has a lot of differences if you compare with other universes, so keep that in mind. In Gotham, Ed works with GCPD but doesn’t feel like himself with the good side. Oswald is the character that spices things up and is a rage of death and destruction and manipulation. But Oswald is infatuated with Jim Gordon (so isn’t the first time it’s implied Penguin is gay) but he goes to the police department to see him. Ed sees him and wants to talk to him no matter the cost. And he does that... And things don’t end that friendly for him because Oswald thinks he’s a weirdo and asks him to fuck off, basically. It reminded me of kd’s first meeting where KS was the one admiring JI all along but JI get frightned. But, during their second meeting, they bond and become friends. For Nygmobs it takes more time for their second meeting but they end up developing and being in good terms :’)
Their personas, sort of: Ed is the tall one, younger and logic. Oswald is the oldest, smaller and that thinks with his heart. I love how JI could show the more logic side of himself during the last few years and, again, while reading Nygmobs fics using kd names, it was easy to fit the profile for me (that was during the time I wasn’t too deep into nygmobs and I didn’t knok them that well. KS looks cold and deatached and that’s why many people got impressed when he said, during Knowing Bros that he would choose love over friendship. He doesn’t play the part but, considering all the context, it fits him pretty well and reading this description of Oswald made me so familiar because it fits KD well. Ofc I don’t know their private lives and whatever but it’s just the impression I had as a viewer and random person;
Drama issue: when I say drama here, it’s related with how people percieve the two OTPs and how different people visualize LGBT relationship in media. Nygmobblepot had a lot of drama involved because they’re the fucking Riddler and Penguin, two of the most famous Batman villains. People saw them in different sorts of media before and others idolize those characters because of videogames and comics. So, when Oswald mentioned expressedly that he was in love with Edward, it caused an uproar in the fandom. People accused the producers and Robin of messing with the comic canon because the fucking Penguin became gay??? Robin was outspoken about the homophobia behind those statements since he’s a gay man himself but yeah, the drama existed. Part of the people invovled with the series rooted for Nygmobblepot, including some writers and the actors (Cory was the one with ambiguous messages about the nature of their relationship but it’s not even close what happened with other series like Supergirl, Supernatural and Sherlock). But it was aired by FOX, a right wing channel and, as you may imagine, they didn’t become canon per se. Actually, after Oswald said he was in love with Ed and planned on confessing to him, the writers presented a clone of Ed’s ex girlfriend with no explanation and purpose, only to separate them for most part of the series future. After that, some people seemed to have FORGOTTEN Oswald was once in love with Edward, rationalizing many things that are hard to explain with a “bro explanation”, they had a scene where the characters would have evolved even more but it was CUTTED and CHANGED and execs added the sentence “we’re brothers” to make EXPLICIT that Nygmobblepot’s relationship wouldn’t be interpreted as a romance at the end of the series (but, honestly, the actors went for the romance path anyway, the deleted scenes and the final episode can’t convince me otherwise).
What’s related with KD, may you ask? I think you’re familiar with all the drama KD faced since 2016 and how many stuff exploded during that time. How many parts are involved into creating a certain image and shifting it to be appealing and “friendly” is similar with what happens with idols. It’s no secret now about many scandals of bullying and other issues that are considered problematic and how they need to be pushed under the rug for companies so idols can make money and be profitable. Especially for male idols, it’s important that they are viewed as desirable and an object of the fans affections. That’s why he needs to be handsome and kind and look like a person that doesn’t exist. If an idol is openly gay, this person isn’t viewed by the major public with the same interest because they can’t fit the fantasy. That’s why scandals involving idols being gay need to be forgotten and deleted from people’s minds, otherwise that celebrity is ostracized. Although we tend to see the Ocident as “progressive”, there’s similar things happening in that industry. If a celebrity is openly LGBT, they don’t receive certain roles or opportunities because of it. There’s still a huge stigma that needs to be broken and we, as a society, are so far way from it. But recognizing those differences exist it’s a step forward.
Similarities with Smaylor
For me, one of the reasons Nygmobblepot works so well is because of the actors. They portrait a good chemistry because of their friendship off screen and some non verbal signs they display around each other are amazing. Those are things that remind me more of KD as we see them in a lot of moments. So, I wanted space to show those comparisons below:
Mutual admiration: it’s something both Smaylor and KD display a LOT and is extrememly outspoken. I really love watching their old interviews because the affection and admiration is so genuine it makes me drawn to them despite not being romantically involved.
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(full gifset)
(there are more moments than these but I don’t want to steal gifs and there’s not much on the gif research and that sucks. Same with KD’s).
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Stares and touches: Robin was the responsible for the deep stares and Cory for the random touches. There’s so many gifs of it that is hilarious. It’s like JI divided himself in two cells because we know he’s more known for both >.<
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(Cory was touching Robin all the way during this interview rip)
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(the gifset!!!)
You’re pretty moment: Robin, like KS, is the one that mentions about Cory/JI’s physical attributes. They have a moment pretty similar and, for KD its famous among shippers:
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(gif link)
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(actually, Robin called Cory dashingly handsome but its okay)
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Cory lost it
There’s another series of gifsets with Robin calling Cory handsome LMAOO
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:))))
Synchronization: for specialists in body language, it’s a factor that shows two people are close. That’s because of the mirror neurons we have that makes us copy movements, actions or words that someone we have empathy/we are close with do or say. Both kd and smaylor do this and it’s really soft.
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(one of the classics)
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(classic 2)
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whole gifset (i love this interview so much)
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(gif)
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The fact the actors came up with their OTP names: people tend to forget that KD’s real otp name (according with Jongin) is dika. Cory also came up with Nygmobblepot name and Smaylor too <3
So, meanwhile Nygmobs has thropies that work a lot with KD AUs, Smaylor has healthy dynamics seen in public appearances KD made. Like I said above, there’s a huge polemic about shipping Smaylor romantically because Robin is married. On social media, is visible he loves his husband and it’s pretty cute to see. Cory himself mentioned that their relationship was sort of a platonic friendship (whatever that means) but it’s really genuine in terms of affections and display of admiration, something KD has as well.
Probably someone will question that it may changed the way I see KD or if now I ship them as bros. Nothing about that changed. With KD, although there are some similar details, there are internal AND external factors that made me support them in a romantic perspective in the first place. And it didn’t change. 
But both of them (Nygmobs too) make me feel that I’m testimoning something genuine, which is really hard in both kpop and media universes. In one side, we have a LOT of fanservice. And, in the other, it’s mostly a work interaction with lots of queerbating. Yes, Gotham has queerbating aspects in it but it’s not full of queerbating, if it makes sense. The message the actors and some writers wanted to convey are there and really display a romantic direction with character evolution and growth. And, considering the way media is nowadays, it’s nice to see.
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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years
Text
Of All the Places
Chapter 5
Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: The arrival of someone from your life before Loki knew you throws his head into a tailspin. He finally has to come face to face with his emotions. Chapter Warnings: a lot of sarcasm, tiny bit of angst, and fluff A/N: Thanks to everyone who’s been reading and/or chatting to me. I love hearing your thoughts on this, and I hope you enjoy the latest installment :) Updates every Friday.
Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiantfavs​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​
✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →
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Disclaimer: Gif not mine
The sun beat down on Loki as he handed the carefully packaged eggs to the customer he was helping. It was the first time since his arrival on the farm that you were participating in a local farmer’s market, and he was doing his best to assist despite his less than ideal people skills.
“Have a nice day,” you called after the man as he walked away. “I’ll tell you one thing about your life, Loki. There is absolutely no way you worked in customer service.”
“No, I suppose not,” he agreed with a chuckle.
“Speaking of, you haven’t remembered anything else, have you?”
“I have not, but if I do, I promise you will be the first to know.”
“Mama’s not entirely wrong about the missing person ad,” Ana chimed in, taking the jam jar Matt had just picked up out of his hands. “It couldn’t hurt. Though I can think of a few reasons why you might not want to do it.”
Loki looked away as his cheeks flushed. He was thankful you were already with another customer by the time Ana made a little heart in the air around your heads. It seemed that she had gotten the same crazy idea that John had that he had fallen for you. If only they knew he was a god, then certainly they wouldn’t have reached such an outlandish conclusion. At least, he supposed, they did not know the true reason he wanted to avoid putting his picture out there, for if they did, he was sure they’d never look at him the same way again. Why that should even matter to him was one question he had yet to answer.
“Well, perhaps when Papa finds that camera,” Loki lied.
“Mhm. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Are you leaving?” Matt asked, tugging on Loki’s pants. “I don’t want you to.”
“I know, small one. Do not worry, I am staying put for now,” Loki said as he bent down to the boy’s height.
“Yay! More play time!”
“Indeed,” Loki laughed.
In the past few days, Papa had declared him an official farmhand and offered him a salary for his help. The trickster god declined at first, insisting that the lodgings and hospitality he’d been given were far more than enough. But, in the battle of the wills, Papa came out victorious, and Loki accepted a modest salary. His position, however, was little more than a glorified babysitter, not that he particularly minded. Everyone still seemed too nervous he was going to fall over and die at any given minute to assign him many real tasks. He still collected the eggs daily, and was being taught to milk the cows, along with a few other simple tasks. In addition, he was taking some cooking lessons with Papa. His attempt at pancakes did not go too well, but you reassured him it was a great first try, something that made him beam with pride.
One thing he wasn’t particularly fond of, however, was getting up so early. Though you’d all told him it was fine if he wanted to sleep in while he was still recovering, he felt bad to take you up on the offer. He was, after all, fully healed whether you knew it or not. And if he was accepting pay, he should have to be up as early as anyone else. Still, a part of him longed for his beauty sleep.
“Well, fancy running into you here,” a deep, unfamiliar voice said.
“Denzel?” you asked in a mix of shock and surprise. “Is that you?”
“Sure is, darlin’. Long time no see.”
“Uh, yeah. When did you get back?”
“Just last night. I was hoping to see you here. And it seems I’ve forgotten my manners. Who’s this?” he asked, nodding his head at the God of Mischief.
“Loki,” he replied, reluctantly extending his hand for a shake. “Charmed, I am sure.”
“Yeah, right. Nice to meet you, too. I’m Denzel. You new around here?” he questioned, sizing up Loki.
The raven haired god wasn’t exactly sure what it was about this man, but he rubbed him the wrong way. There was nothing particularly malicious about him, but the look in his eye sparked something in Loki’s chest. In a sudden panicked thought, he wondered if this Denzel person had recognized him. If so, he’d have to make a quick getaway, teleportation the only option. He wondered for a split second if he could grab your hand and take you with him, but he knew that wouldn’t be fair to you. Then again, nothing about this particularly was.
“Yes. You see, I have tragically lost my memory, but I was lucky enough to be taken in by this kind family,” Loki said.
“Interesting. But you remember your name?”
“Oh yes, I remember simple, everyday things, such as my name or, say, how to use a seatbelt. Something so simple surely would stay in everyone’s mind,” he joked, shooting a look at you as a huge smile made its way onto your face. You hid your laugh at the inside joke behind a hand. “Very odd how that works, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Like I said, interesting. Anyway,” he changed the subject, turning to you, “I was hoping to talk. Do you think we could maybe take a quick walk?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Can you guys hold the fort down?”
“Of course, honey,” Ana said, giving your arm a quick squeeze. “Take your time.”
You were off before Loki had any time to protest, but he kept up a cool facade as the next customer walked up to the booth. Once he finished, he put his elbow on the table and, slumping down in defeat, rested his head in his hand.
“Who was that Denzel character, anyway?” he asked your sister as his nose involuntarily wrinkled in distaste.
“Listen, don’t tell them I told you this, but he’s their ex.”
“Well, what happened? Did he hurt them?” he further inquired, perking up at the new information.
“Distance, I guess. He was a great guy, really, but it just didn’t work out. He just finished studying to be a doctor, actually. So he might be back in town for good. But,” she added, noticing the disappointment etched onto Loki’s features, “that doesn’t mean they’re getting back together or anything. It’s been a while. I really do think they moved on.”
“Do you not have that saying here, though? Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Or something else equally ridiculous as that.”
“Well, yes, that is a saying. But not from here, as in Oklahoma here. It’s kinda well known.”
“I am aware. I just meant... Oh never mind!” he quit in exasperation, a mood Ana chalked up to Denzel’s sudden arrival.
Loki tried to use his height to his advantage and spot you in the crowd, but no such luck. You were too far gone, away with Denzel, your ex. Someone who, Loki had to admit, was very pretty and smart and charming. But certainly he—Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies, rightful heir to not one, but two thrones—was prettier than this mere mortal. And smarter than this insipid fool. And far more charming than this bumbling oaf. Right? Or was he truly just the cold, chaotic, horrific, monstrous villain so many thought he was? Though, really, why should any of it matter to him?
In that moment, the answer finally hit him. He could never acknowledge it, though. It would only lead to pain and heartache for all involved. Not to mention terrible danger for you. But, if he were to allow himself just one peaceful second of bliss, he could imagine he was not a god, not a fugitive, but just a simple man. Just someone who could be able to love you and provide for you without any complications from his past misdeeds. If he could allow that, then he would admit he had feelings for you. But he can’t so he won’t. He’d let his inner demons have their way and only ever admire you from afar, accepting your friendship for what it was and nothing more. Though, if you were to make the first move, then perhaps things would be different. That, however, was an entirely unlikely course of events.
“Loki? Are you oki doki?” Matt asked, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Maybe you need a cookie.”
“I am fine, little one,” he said, laughing despite himself. “Thank you very much for asking.”
“Are you sure you don’t want a cookie?”
“Well, I suppose it could not hurt. What do you say? Would you like one?”
“Yes, please!”
You and Denzel reappeared just then, and Loki was suddenly very desperate to escape. He took Matt’s hand in his and informed Ana where he was off to with the child. She gave Loki a grateful smile for indulging her son and sent them on their way with a few dollars to purchase the sweets.
On the way to the booth with the most heavenly smell, Loki’s thoughts overtook him once again. He recalled his plan from when he’d first arrived; lie low and heal and then be off to Asgard. Off to claim the throne which technically should have been his. Really, it was not entirely his fault that his brother had been banished when the king fell into Odinsleep. And it wasn’t like he caused that either. No, his “father” confessed he’d been lying to him to all his life and then left him to deal with it by himself. And he was next in line for the throne at the time, but apparently he shouldn’t have taken it. Obviously, it was all perfect logic from the brain of Odin once again. And, yes, he would admit he made some mistakes. That was the sign of a true leader. But he was doing the best he could with the hand he’d been dealt. And perhaps the most frustrating part was he was starting to realize he liked this simple town better than any of that. That he didn’t actually want to leave, after all.
One short wait in line later, Loki pulled himself from the dangerous rabbit hole that was his mind. He ordered two cookies, pumpkin chocolate chip for Matt and a butter pecan one for himself. Then, on a whim, he also ordered a cup of hot apple cider for both you and Ana. Nothing for Denzel, though. If the Norns were smiling on him today, that man would already be gone by the time he got back. Gone as in away from the stand or out of the state didn’t really matter to Loki. Either worked for him.  
“Surprise,” he whispered in your ear after sneaking up behind you. “Hot apple cider, on me.”
You graciously took the cup and passed one to Ana, too. Loki also offered you a piece of his cookie, which you gladly accepted. The brush of your fingers as he gave it to you had him shyly looking away. Ana took Matt off to the bathroom once he was done eating, leaving Loki alone with you for the first time that day.
“So, Denzel,” he nonchalantly started after you finished a transaction. “He seemed... Nice.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. He is.” You picked at a loose thread on your jacket as you figured out what else to say about him. “Ana told me that she let you know our history. He said he’s back now and strongly hinted at us getting back together, but I don’t know.”
“I see. Well, from what I hear, he’s an amazing guy, so you should go for it,” Loki dejectedly said, though he truly did want you to be happy. “If that is what you want, of course.”
“It’s not, though. At least, I don’t think it is. Don’t get me wrong, he is really great. But the spark’s just gone for me, you know?”
“I understand completely,” Loki replied, hope creeping into his heart. Even if you were not yet smitten with him, at least you were not still pining for your ex. “You are certainly under no obligation to be with him again.”
“Yeah, I know. I just feel bad.”
“Darling, look at me,” he said, taking your hand. “You should never feel bad about what, or rather who, you want or do not want. It is entirely up to you, no matter what anyone else says.”
The irony was not lost on Loki that he should be saying those words. Though, he had found it was a common theme among Midgardians to be good at giving advice but never apply it to yourself. So, if anything, he was just doing an impeccable job of blending in.
“Thanks, Loki. I needed that. Anyway, on a much lighter note, Matt really seems to love you. You’re great with kids.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Absolutely.”
He felt his cheeks go scarlet again, entirely too happy that you thought he was good with kids. For a brief moment, the idea of raising a child with you popped into his mind, but he shut it down before he tortured himself too much with something that could never be.
“Well, I thank you for the compliment, but if you do not mind, I need some fresh air for a second. Or space, I suppose,” he corrected, considering you were outside. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
“Ok. Talk to me if something’s bothering you?”
“Of course.”
He knew that was a lie, and he was sure that deep down you did, too. It was, in the grand scheme of things, a little white lie. It’s just that it felt like so much more than that. In some ways, he supposed it was.
As he walked out to the edge of the market, he thought he heard some thunder ominously booming in the distance. Or maybe that was just his imagination.
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rpbetter · 3 years
Note
I often see multis post that they want to make a new muse, at the same time as they're backed up on threads and asks, and they get their followers to "enable" them to make that muse in the post replies. What is your take on this? Is it a they-can-do-what-they-want situation, or is it reasonable to be annoyed when I see this? Or both?
Hey, Anon!
Both.
I mean, as usual, this is my opinion of an opinion-based matter. This isn't an equation that has an objectively right to wrong scale, it isn't actually hurting any living person or thing. But...it is incredibly annoying and can be hurtful.
They can totally do what they want, and much of the nature of genuine creativity is exactly that - the allowance of doing whatever you so desire. It's something I support rather adamantly, but it's also something I support trying our best to do responsibly and without being hurtful to anyone in a hobby that involves more than ourselves.
This isn't deciding to write another fic when you've not finished the previous four or five that others were interested in, or never finishing any of your original fiction, but continually starting new projects. While others might be enjoying those things as well, you didn't agree to interact with them. They're audience members, not participants.
When others are participants in a hobby that has to work both ways, it's different. Your actions do affect other, real human beings.
So, I totally feel like you've a right to be annoyed every time you see that happening. I do. I tend to unfollow people who do that repeatedly, as we're not pursuing the hobby in the same way. I'll argue all day that someone has a right to their, sometimes literally, eighty-plus muses they never develop or stick to, but that doesn't mean I want to engage with them as a writing partner.
For those of us who want long-term writing partners with the same, well-developed muses, this kind of thing just is annoying. As is everything else that comes with it.
As in...
They're constantly posting "talk me out of adding x" as code for "talk me into writing x."
No one actually wants to be talked out of it, which was probably more obvious to everyone else here than it was me for a little while lmao I tend to take things rather literally. This was, as one can imagine, not appreciated! Telling someone in total earnestness, "I really don't think that's a good choice. You're always saying how overwhelmed you are and just dropped multiple threads yesterday, so adding another muse is going to make you feel worse eventually. Don't do it! :)" is so not what they were looking for. As was evident by the return meltdown over how they could do what they wanted, like I said they couldn't or had any authority over what they're doing with their time.
It's an obnoxious bit of pandering for a foregone conclusion.
Have you ever seen anyone who posts that sort of thing not pick up that muse? I haven't. I've only seen muns who are legitimately on the fence about it asking others in private conversations or testing out the muse decide against it. The thing that makes this incredibly irritating is the attention-seeking and need to validate something they must know isn't a great choice, otherwise, they'd just do it. They're aware that they're behind on drafts, asks, and other things - aware that this is maybe a dick move when they owe everyone already. So, they're seeking "permission" with full knowledge that multiple mutuals are going to hop on that post with encouragement, even some of the ones being messed over by this choice.
It puts people in a bad situation.
Some of those people genuinely don't care, they just want to interact with any muse, and I'm going to be awful and say it - they don't care about totally interchangeable muses and have them themselves. That's fine, this isn't a problem for them. It is for the mutuals who are hoping that maybe if their writing partner gets into this new muse, they'll get a reply to their threads with that energy, or that they'll stick to this one and they can have consistent interactions with them. It is for the mutuals who feel pressured to respond positively because they fear not responding at all will make them seem like bad rpers.
One more thing playing into the counter logic excuse for shitty behavior of "it's just a hobby" is one more thing too many, and it does exactly that.
No one wants to be accused of being remotely too invested in RP anymore, of taking it too seriously, or having any emotional investment in muses, stories, or muns. Not accepting every choice someone makes that negatively impacts you with a grin on your face while you dump confetti on them for it just isn't a comfortable option for a lot of muns anymore. Honesty isn't a comfortable option. While the other option isn't either, it seems better than that mutual noticing you're the only writing partner who didn't hop onto that post with support any of the multiple times they reblogged it. It's only a hobby in which everyone can do what they want until what one wants clashes. Then, you're getting a callout for being addicted to RP.
And the way it tends to clash most is in having expectations of others. Ones that would be totally normal in any other hobby requiring interaction with other people.
Like not overburdening yourself at the expense not only of yourself but those on your "team." That's what is being done when someone knows they cannot keep up with themselves, but continues to add to the situation with new muses.
Not only are you no longer getting responses already while they're intending to add even more to their overflowing plate, you'll be dropped again when they have to "fresh start" their blog because they're burned out.
I have to put that in quotations because I don't know how it's a fresh start when you keep everything but the blog layout the same. All the muses and all the behaviors, including adding a new one despite not having the time or interest necessary to do so, is inevitably maintaining the problems that led to burnout. Dropping every thread, changing the URL, a new blog layout, new aesthetics, isn't fixing the issue even if it temporarily reinvigorates the mun.
The mun is definitely doing things that are not helpful to them, it's stressful and upsetting to experience burnout, but it's at least that mun's choice. Both to do it and to become defensive over fixing it, thus, never fixing it. It isn't anyone else's choice to be repeatedly dropped or ignored, though...unless they just keep sticking around for it.
Again, we're supposed to respect everyone's choices. That's fine when it really works that way, when it is truly everyone. But it's not an acceptable decision to see a multimuse of twenty or more muses and say that's your limit, that you've experienced too many muns who are serial muse-adders not being able to keep up with themselves, so you don't interact with these blogs. If one feels that way, they had better not put it in their rules or ever be upfront about this as a reason, when one is demanded, for not following back or interacting.
It's not acceptable to see a writing partner adding another muse after they've owed you for months, just wiped their inbox, and keep expressing being overwhelmed/behind and become annoyed. Let alone dropping them or explaining to them why you are doing so.
The only "acceptable" course of action is hoping that they totally forget you exist so you can quietly slip away.
I don't feel like that's especially fair or mature. It certainly isn't helping the communication problem we absolutely do have here in the RPC when only one party is allowed to communicate without fear of being labeled, rather ironically, as a bad RP partner.
While this problem seems to be most prevalent in more casual RPers, it's certainly not isolated there. I feel like it's necessary to say that I've had muns I both interacted with and were simply on my dash alike who were not on that more casual side who went from being multis to being muse collectors. Once they hit over fifteen of them or so, they stopped even bothering to try to refrain from picking up at least one muse from every new piece of media they consumed or were inspired by.
It was more annoying because they had been capable of writing truly unique characters they stuck to, and even if they were, with full and upfront admission before interaction, slower to respond, those responses were well worth any wait for the quality of writing and storytelling going on. That's so much worse than someone who was always at a lower skill level as a writer, didn't have a good grasp on characterization, and wasn't especially dedicated to anything. It's depressing and disappointing, but it's also not what you think you're getting into when trying to carefully pick who to write with. Like everyone else, my time to enjoy this hobby is far from twenty-four-seven as well. It's important to me to try to choose muns I'll work out with well so that neither of us is wasting the other's time. And that's what it feels like - the investment of time was a waste because their hobby became adding infinite muses, or rather, the idea of muses.
So, yes, while it is fully everyone's right to write what and how they want to (even if it amounts to not writing at all), it'd be nice if we were all as committed to doing so in a way that was adult enough to respect commitments we've made to each other as we are, as a RPC, to losing our minds when someone merely drops the words "commitments" or "respect."
For the inevitable muse-collectors running across this:
Fiction is inspiring! That doesn't mean you needn't be inspired by anything, just that picking up or creating a whole other muse might not be the best way to follow this inspiration.
If you're considering another muse, but you find yourself already behind and/or overwhelmed? Try one of these instead:
create a plot based on it! Write up the idea and put it in your wanted plots/wishlist tag. Bring it up to partners you think might be interested in it as well, or seek out a crossover from that fandom
make it a new verse for an existing muse! This is as close as you get to creating a new muse without actually doing so, and in many ways, it takes even more creativity. How is your muse different in this AU than they are in canon, how are they the same? In the ways that they are the same, what similar events but done in a way that is natural/logical to this universe have happened to maintain that? Get really creative!
for either/both of these, make some moodboards and aesthetics with that energy while you're waiting on someone to take you up on these new things. Answer some HC asks or tag games using your new verse, or write an independent HC for the verse or plot
talk to writing partners who already love that muse about their new verse/your desired plot! No, not pressuring talk, just normal conversation between friends, but maybe they will be interested in starting a thread
simply be inspired to include some aspect of what you liked in an existent thread. A particular scene you could pull ideas from, the overall mood of a film, or the way something was written in a book - include that in your replies somehow! RP is creative writing, be creative
There are so many, honestly more organic, directions to take inspiration than bluntly adding a new muse. Especially when you're already overburdened, not holding up your end of replies, and/or not able to portray each muse as their own character properly.
Sometimes, it's not just not a great idea to add a whole new muse, and that's alright. There seems to be a serious problem with fomo going on with this whole issue, too. You're not going to miss out if you do not immediately add this character to your multi, and you're never going to fully keep up with what is trending anyway. Do it because you still want to write this muse in four months instead, they're obviously not going anywhere if that's the case, and they'll be a better developed, interesting portrayal for that.
And people do have a right to be annoyed when they feel sidelined by you seeing a shiny object and repeatedly pandering for validation in dropping them for it. Particularly if you're a mun who, further, expects everyone to be just as interested in every new muse you make as the last. As in, you're annoyed when you keep creating muses no one is falling over themselves to interact with, guilting, shaming, or outright demanding that this new muse is interacted with before they have access to the previous ones.
They don't have a right to be mean you to, but they have a right to be annoyed and to drop you. They even have a right to politely decline explaining this to you if they feel unsafe, or to politely explain it to you before they move on.
Absolutely everyone's right to pursue RP and every facet of it as they so please, but no one else has to like what you're doing.
If this response grates on some of you out there? Consider the other options you have, how you might be making others feel, and that it's actually completely okay to tell yourself no. You won't perish if you tell yourself no to taking on a new muse when you, honestly, should not! It'll be okay! Maybe, you just need to evaluate if there is another muse, or more than one, you should remove before adding one. Maybe, you just need some time to reorganize how you reply before you add this one. "No" when told to yourself can simply mean "no, not right now, it isn't a good time/situation."
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starryknight09 · 3 years
Text
Unforeseen dangers ch 9
Summary:  As Peter recovers from his capture by Ross, a photo of him with Tony and the Avengers leaks and is splashed all across the media. Luckily, no one can figure out who he is and everyone thinks the buzz will die down. However, the public’s interest has been ignited. While Tony worries it’s only a matter of time before Peter’s identity is exposed, Peter isn’t as concerned. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?
Read on AO3.
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“How you holding up?” Tony asked Peter as the car pulled into the Tower’s private garage.  
Peter shrugged in answer.
His kid had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the entirety of the car ride, but Tony didn’t know what else he’d expected.  Tony had been raised in the spotlight.  It was all he’d ever known, so he found it oddly difficult to put himself in Peter’s shoes and figure out what he was feeling.  Instead of prying like he wanted to, he squeezed Peter against his side in a half hug.
“We’re here.” Happy announced unnecessarily as he put the car in park.  As much as his current Forehead of Security liked to grump, Tony knew the man hated tense silences just as much, if not more, than he did.
Tony wasted no time opening the car door and stepping out, but he had to duck his head back in when Peter didn’t automatically follow behind him.
“Come on kid.  Time to go.  As comfy as my car is, you can’t sit in it all day.” He said to Peter who was staring straight ahead, spaced out.  Peter blinked and slowly turned his head to take in Tony standing outside the car.  Only then did he seem to notice that he was the sole person still left in the car.
“Oh.” Peter said and blinked again before finally climbing out.  All his movements seemed slower than usual.
Tony didn’t call him on it.  He rested a hand loosely on Peter’s shoulder as they walked over to the elevator together where Bruce, Nat, Happy, and Steve were already inside waiting.
“Penthouse FRIDAY.” He ordered as they stepped in.
“Thanks guys.” Peter finally spoke, although he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the ground.
“You don’t need to thank anyone.” Tony said before they had a chance to respond.
“You’re dad’s right.” Steve agreed.  “We were happy to do it.”
“I needed to get out and get some air anyway.” Bruce added in a transparent attempt to lighten the mood.
Natasha just gave Peter a small smile while Happy let out a noncommittal grunt.
“Where’s everyone else?” Peter asked after another few seconds of silence had passed.
“Meeting us back here.  Actually, they probably beat us.” Tony answered.
“Seems like an awful lot of trouble just to pick me up from school.” Peter frowned.
“Nope.  No trouble.  Everyone missed you and wanted to take their turn to come and get you.  We tried rock paper scissors but since everyone on the team’s a sore loser I decided to let them all tag along.” Tony knew he was rambling and so obviously lying, but he didn’t want Peter to know the real reason everyone had shown up to get him, or the way his heart had started racing the moment he found out Peter’s identity had been discovered.
He’d been down in his workshop when Rhodey had come running in yelling his name.  “Tony!  Tony!”
When he’d heard the fear in Rhodey’s voice, he’d sat up so fast he’d smacked his head on the armor he’d been working on.  Rhodey was one of the most unshakable people Tony knew.  He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen the man truly panic.  He didn’t even want to imagine what had happened to add this moment to one of those times.
“What?  What happened?” Fear swirled in his gut, visions of someone seriously hurt or dead flashed through his mind.  Someone who could make Rhodey look like that.  Peter.  Pepper.
“Have you seen the news?” Rhodey asked as he held out a hand to help him stand from the floor.
“No.”
“It’s Peter.” Rhodey came right out and said it.  He was never one to beat around the bush.
Tony’s eyes widened.  “Peter?  What about Peter?  Is he ok?” His greatest fear brought to life.  None of it made sense.  Peter should be in school and completely fine.  And he didn’t understand how Peter connected to seeing the news.  His brain felt like it was trying to reboot, to sort out the information coming at him through his sudden panic.
“He’s fine, but it’s all over the news.”
“What is?”
“He is.  Peter.  They figured out his identity.”
His first instinct was to panic, but he knew he couldn’t.  He had to stay clear headed and figure out what to do.  For his kid.
He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath and forced himself to think.  When he opened them again, he caught Rhodey staring at him, waiting for his decision on what to do.
“What exactly do they know?” Tony asked.  He needed more information in order to work through the problem and figure out what to do next.  “That he’s the kid from all the pictures with me?”
“Yes.  That…” Rhodey said, but Tony could sense there was something else.
“And?  What else?” He prodded, letting his impatience through.
“That he’s your son.  That you adopted him.” Rhodey winced as he said it.
That was when the panic returned.
��Fuck.” He sprinted toward the elevator, Rhodey hot on his heels.
“Ok, now just for some perspective, don’t forget he’s Spiderman.  He’s not some helpless kid.” Rhodey said as the elevator doors closed behind them.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He spat and pushed the button for the garage three times in succession to make the elevator drop at its fasted velocity.
“Yes.” Rhodey said as if it were obvious.
“Well it doesn’t.  My kid’s still in danger, because of his connection to me.” He growled, glaring at his friend.  He knew he was displacing all his anger and frustration on Rhodey who didn’t deserve any of it, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to reel himself in at the moment.  Besides, as his oldest friend, Rhodey was definitely more than used to taking the undeserved brunt of his mood swings.  
“What are you doing?” Rhodey asked as the doors opened and he jogged toward his fastest car.
“What do you think I’m doing?  I’m going to go get my kid!” He yelled, anger starting to override his fear.  He was angry at the world for doing this to his son.  Angry at himself for not doing a better job of preventing it.  He called himself a futurist, and yet, he hadn’t been able to see this coming soon enough to stop it.  
“Wait!” Rhodey called out from right behind him.
Tony ignored him.
“Just wait a minute!” Rhodey grabbed his shoulder.  
Tony spun around, fury written on every line of his face.  “What?”
“Stop and think Tony.  What?  You think you’re just going to march in there, grab him and come home?  Like it’ll be that easy?  The entire world knows he’s your son.  They dug into everything they could about him before breaking the story ten minutes ago.  They know his parents died and then his aunt and uncle.  They know he’s a straight A student.  They know he’s on the decathlon team.  They know where he goes to school.”
Ice ran down his spine.
“They’re going to be camped out just waiting for you to show up.  Waiting for him.  For the spectacle of it.  You know it. And god forbid, what if more than just the media is waiting?  I know you like to joke about it, but you have a lot of enemies and as far as the world knows, your kid’s just a normal kid, completely unguarded at school right now.  I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but if I wanted to hurt you, this would be the perfect opportunity.”
The hell of it was, he knew Rhodey was right, and not only that, but he couldn’t believe he hadn’t considered it before.  This whole thing had shaken him more than he’d realized.
“All it would take is a sniper rifle and a good vantage point, and it’d be all too easy to tag the kid as soon as he stepped outside the school.  Just like that.” Rhodey snapped his fingers.
Tony clenched his jaw at the image the words conjured.  The logical side of his brain told him that Peter had that sixth sense that would keep him safe from something like that, but the dad side of his brain worried about it not working or worried that even with the warning Peter still might not react fast enough to get out of the way.
“With enough money it wouldn’t be too hard to get a hired hand in place in such a short time frame.” Rhodey continued but his voice had softened.  “It’s what I would do.”
Tony closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over them.  “Ok.  So what do suggest we do then?  Not get my kid?  Leave him alone and unprotected at school?” He channeled all his fear and anger into sarcasm.
“Of course not.” Rhodey gave him a scathing look.
“What then?”
“We bring the team.” Rhodey said as if the answer were obvious.
So they had.
Within thirty minutes of the news breaking, Clint had positioned himself as a lookout on a nearby roof near the school and Sam and Rhodey had taken to the sky, flying around the area to ensure that all the other rooftops remained clear while Tony made his way to the school entrance along with Bruce and Steve, two of the most invincible Avengers, given Rhodey’s imagined threat of a sniper.  
While Happy and Natasha waited in the car, the trio forced their way through the hoard of press already waiting like vultures outside the school.  Tony cursed the fact that there was no other entrance near a street because it was going to make getting his kid out a nightmare.
Tony was honestly surprised Peter hadn’t called or texted him yet, but he remembered him mentioning something before about the teachers being strict about cell phone use during class, so maybe he just didn’t know yet.  
Inside, the hallways remained quiet and desolate.  Kids weren’t running around, excitedly talking, and getting ready to mob Peter at any moment, so class must’ve just started when the news broke.  He figured that was the one lucky break in all of this.
The sound of his own phone ringing cut through the heavy silence.  He gave the screen a cursory glance, intending to ignore it until he saw the caller ID.  Pepper.  One of the few people he’d answer a phone call from at a time like this.
“Hey Pep.” He said as he pressed the phone to his ear, trying to keep his voice down.  The last thing he needed was some errant student recognizing him.
“Tony?  Have you seen the news?” His heart warmed a little at the panic in her voice.  She obviously cared about Peter too, which shouldn’t surprise him.  The kid was like a puppy.  Everyone he met seemed to fall in love with him, and Tony knew the two of them had grown closer over the holidays when she’d helped Peter file the adoption papers for his surprise Christmas present.
“I have.”
“Oh my god.  Where are you?”
“I’m at his school.  I’m picking him up.”
“By yourself?” He marveled at the way Pepper could make her voice shrill without actually reaching a high pitched decibel.
“No.  Of course not.” He decided she didn’t need to know that was what he’d almost done until Rhodey had intervened.  “I brought the team.”
“Oh thank god.  Just get him back here and then we need to figure out what we’re going to do.”
“Your wish is my command.”
“Stay safe.” She ordered, stern but worried, a tone with which Tony was all too familiar.
“I will.” He said, the corner of his mouth turning up as he hung up.  It was times like these when he remembered what he and Pepper used to have, and he missed it.
He didn’t know what kind of expression was painted on his face, but whatever it was, it was enough for Steve to remind him, “Focus Tony.”
“Trust me Cap,” he said as he pocked his phone, “I’m as focused as anyone could possibly be right now.”
Steve nodded and within another ten steps they were standing in front of the office door.
Tony turned back to Bruce and Steve as he grabbed the handle.  “Let’s go get my kid.”
He swung the door open like he owned the place and did exactly that.
Tony almost couldn’t believe that had all happened within the last hour.  He still felt like he was doing catch up with trying to process everything.  He couldn’t even imagine how Peter felt.
The elevator finally reached the penthouse and the doors opened, revealing a scene Tony hadn’t been expecting, although in retrospect, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.  Pepper had kind of warned him with her phone call earlier, but he hadn’t been thinking about it.  He’d only been thinking about getting his kid to safety.  Which he’d accomplished.  
But now he needed to figure out how to approach this entire mess of a situation because it wasn’t going to fix itself.  Thus, the reason for why the penthouse was currently filled with his PR employees.
They stepped out of the elevator and into a maelstrom of chaos.  It was a scene reminiscent of the time he’d told the world he was Ironman and the resulting backlash.  Or the time he’d supposedly asked some Russian model to marry him.  He hadn’t.  Or the time he’d been quoted as saying he was anti-gun, which hadn’t been true.  At the time.  Or the time he’d gotten plastered in Vegas and apparently forgotten to clothe his bottom half before stepping out onto his balcony.  But all of those things had happened years ago.  It’d been quite awhile since he’d been at the center of this kind of media shitstorm.
Pepper noticed him the moment he stepped into the room.  She gave him a small smile as she walked over, but she stopped in front of Peter instead of him.
“Oh sweetie I’m so glad you’re ok.” She said as she pulled him into a tight hug.
He seemed a little surprised but didn’t hesitate to hug her back.  “I’m fine.”
“I know.” She said as she released him and grasped his shoulders, looking him square in the eyes.  “And don’t worry.  We’re going to figure this out.  We have people whose entire job is dealing with stuff like this.”
“What?  A secret son?” Peter joked but it fell flat.
Pepper graced him with a wry smile.  “Well, no.  This is definitely a first, but you’d be surprised by what we’ve had to deal with when it comes to Tony.”
“Hey.” Tony acted affronted even though he knew she only spoke the truth.
Pepper arched an eyebrow at him.
He cleared his throat and changed the subject.  “Anyway, what’s the plan?”
“Now that you’re here, we can do a sit down and plan out our immediate next steps.” Pepper said, all business again.
“Uh-huh.” He said, distracted by the shell shocked look on Peter’s face as he took in the room and the dozen or so strangers bustling about.
“But I really think the first thing we need to do is hold an emergency press conference, so we should put together a statement for that as soon as possible.” Pepper continued.
“Yeah.” He frowned and then held up a hand when Pepper started to speak again.  “We will definitely do all of that, but first I need a few minutes with my kid.”
Pepper blinked and looked over at Peter, her eyes softening at the obvious distress she saw there even as Peter did his best to try to hide it.  “Of course.  How about I get everyone together and we meet in the conference room at,” she checked her watch, “3:30PM.  That’ll give you fifteen minutes.  Is that enough time?”
“Should be.” He nodded and then gripped Peter’s shoulders.  “Come on Underoos.  Let’s go sit down for a minute.”
Peter let Tony guide him through all the pandemonium to the hallway and into his bedroom.  Tony pressed him down to sit at the end of the bed before grabbing the desk chair for himself.   He flipped it around and sat, letting his forearms rest on the chair back, going for nonchalant even though he felt anything but.
“So.” Tony said, not quite sure how to start the conversation.
“So…” Peter echoed back, not making it any easier.
“I know this is a lot, so I thought we should just take a little time out.  A little breather.  And you can tell me you’re thinking.”
“What I’m thinking?” Peter’s eyebrows pulled together like he didn’t understand what Tony meant.
“Yeah.  What’s going on in that noggin of yours?”
“I-I don’t know.  This is all…  This is crazy.”
“It is.” Tony agreed.
“I…I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“There’s nothing I want you to say.  I just want you to talk to me.  Tell me what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling about this.”
“Um I don’t know.  It’s a lot.” Peter shrugged.
“Care to expound on that a little?” Tony asked lightheartedly.
“I guess it’s kind of overwhelming, but it doesn’t really feel like it’s real at the same time?  Does that make sense?”
Tony nodded, staying silent to encourage Peter to keep talking.
“And now there are all these people here and there were all those people waiting outside my school and I know everything’s going to change forever and…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Peter trailed off and met his eyes, and Tony hated the fear and desperation he saw there.  “It’s just…a lot.”  He repeated.  “And I guess I didn’t really think this was going to happen.  Or if it did, I didn’t think it would be this soon.  And I didn’t think it would be like this.”
Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  He didn’t know what to say to make it better, because there really wasn’t anything he could say, or do, to fix it.  The horse was out of the barn.  It was done.  Over with.  Now all they could do was deal with the fallout, and he knew it wasn’t going to be particularly pleasant for him or Peter.
“I’m sorry.” He settled on those two words even though they didn’t have the power to fix anything.
“It’s not your fault.” Peter shrugged.
“Still.  I never wanted any of this for you.”
Peter hung his head and picked at the fraying hem on one his sleeves.  The kid had a closet full of expensive, brand new, clothing but for some reason it seemed like he always chose to wear whatever he had that was tattered or fraying.
“What’s going to happen now?” Peter asked, looking up at him again.
“Now I’m going to go meet with all those people out there and try to come up with a game plan.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means first I’m going to find out how all this got out and how much everyone actually knows.”
“Ok.”
“And then I’m going to draft a statement to read at a press conference I’m guessing Pepper has already scheduled, probably to start within the next hour.”
“Really?” Peter seemed surprised.
Tony nodded.
“What are you going to say?”
“Depends on what the media has already spilled the beans on and how good their sources are.  If they don’t have any proof you’re my son, and it’s just conjecture, then there might be some wiggle room and I may be able to spin this a different way, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up.  I’m guessing they have some solid sources if it’s already out there like this, since everyone knows how much I like to sue for slander.”
Peter snorted.
“So, how about this?  You sit tight in here and I’ll go deal with all of this, and as soon as I know more about the plan, I’ll let you know, ok?”
“Ok.” Peter agreed softly.
Tony hummed and drummed his fingers along the chair back as he studied his son.  He hated the idea of leaving him alone right now, but he knew he didn’t have any other choice.  He had to go deal with all of this, and he didn’t want to bring Peter along and subject him to everything that entailed.  That would only make it worse.  
It was a no win situation.  As soon as he left, his kid was going to be on his computer or his phone googling himself, and he’d start falling down the proverbial rabbit hole.  As a media veteran, Tony knew self google was never a good idea, but he could only guess at what was being said and written about his kid.  He hadn’t had any time to check yet, so he couldn’t even prepare Peter for it.  He definitely wasn’t winning any parenting awards today.
“Listen, I’m going to do something, and you’re not going to like it, but you have to trust me that it’s in your own best interest right now, all right?”
Peter’s eyes narrowed.  Yeah, this wasn’t going to go over well.
“FRIDAY be a dear and restrict Peter’s TV, phone, and internet access until further notice.”
“What?  No!”
“Just,” Tony said as he held up a hand, “let me deal with this stuff first, and then we’ll deal with the rest of it together.  Ok?” He tried for calm even as a storm cloud passed over Peter’s face.  At least it was better than the sick, pinched look he’d had ever since all this went down.  Silver lining.
“You’re not being fair.” Peter protested.
“I know.” He agreed and Peter didn’t seem to know what to do with that easy admission.  
“So I’m just supposed to stay locked in my room alone with nothing to do until you come back?” Peter asked skeptically.
“No.  Of course not.  You have plenty to do.” He gestured to the partially finished Y-wing Lego set, the stacks of DVDs, and the video game consoles.
“You just said I couldn’t use the TV.” Peter huffed.
Tony sighed.  “FRIDAY, Peter can use the TV for watching movies and playing video games, but nothing else, capiche?”
“Yes Boss.”
“There.  All good.  And you’re not going to be alone.  I’ll send you some company.”
Peter screwed up his face like he wasn’t quite sure whether that was a good or a bad thing.
“And I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He said as he stood and ruffled Peter’s hair, smirking as Peter tried in vain to straighten it back into place.
On his way out, Tony paused at the door to turn and look at his kid.  Peter had a desolate expression pasted across his face as he stared straight ahead at nothing.
“Hey.” Tony said to get his attention.   As soon as Peter made eye contact with him, he said solemnly, “It’s going to be ok.”
“I know.” Peter mumbled and gave him a ghost of a smile, but Tony could see the truth in his eyes.  His son didn’t believe him.  Tony always knew he was too smart for his own good.  Just like his old man.
“I love you.” Tony said with a soft intensity.  Maybe he couldn’t keep the world from crashing down around them, but he could love his son.  Always.  It was one of the easiest things he’d ever done.
“I love you too.” Peter said back and that finally got a real smile out of him.  It gave him some hope that maybe this would all turn out ok.
The door closed behind him with a click, and he made his way back out to the living room.  Pepper, along with the rest of his SI team, had left and were probably waiting for him in the conference room, but the room was far from empty.  Apparently none of the Avengers had wanted to go back to their quarters.  The show of concern both irked and warmed him at the same time.  Regardless, he didn’t have time to chit chat.  Except for the one thing he had to do.
“Hey birdbrain.” He said as he spotted Clint sitting in one of the oversized chairs in the corner of the room.  “Do you mind hanging with Peter?  I told him I’d send someone in to keep him company.”
“Sure.” Clint agreed easily.
Tony gave him a nod of thanks and made his way toward the elevator.
“Tony.” Steve said from where he and Natasha were standing in the direct path to the elevator, obviously waiting for him.
Tony stopped in front of him and raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for Steve to spit out whatever it was he wanted to say.
“How’s Peter doing?” Steve asked, concern crinkling in the corners of his eyes.
Tony sighed.  He had no idea how to answer that question.  “He’s…dealing.”
Steve nodded as if he understood everything Tony wasn’t saying.
“Well, if that’s it, I have to go figure out how to deal with this disaster.” Tony said after a few seconds had passed and it didn’t seem like Steve was going to say anything else.
He took a step away but Steve reached out to grab his arm.  “Wait.  We want to come with you.”
Tony turned and frowned.  “You want to come with me where?”
“To the conference room.”
Tony just blinked.  “Why?”
“Maybe we can help.”
His face must’ve shown his skepticism because Natasha added, “We care about Peter too.”  As if Tony had ever doubted that fact.
“Fine.” He must’ve acquiesced too easily given the looks of surprise on Steve and Natasha’s faces.  But he had neither the time nor the energy to argue, and if they wanted to spend their time being tortured in a meeting, then that was their prerogative.  “Let’s go.”
Steve and Natasha followed silently as he continued on his way toward the conference room.  The truth was, he didn’t even know what kind of shitstorm awaited him, but the look on Pepper’s face when he’d stepped into the penthouse had clued him in to the fact that it was bad, along with the dozen or so PR employees milling about with their cellphones attached to their ears and their faces buried in their laptops.  Thinking about it made his heart thrum a rapid staccato in his chest.  Usually he didn’t care about his image, or whatever the media said, but this was different.  This time it was his kid.  He couldn’t help but care.
As he approached the glass walled conference room, he could see everyone waiting for him.  He’d never gone into a meeting so wholly unprepared.  After he’d gotten the news, he’d gone straight to his kid.  He hadn’t taken the time to check any media outlets to see what was being said, so besides what he’d already been told, he honestly had no clue what he was dealing with yet.  He gripped the handle of the conference room door and took a bolstering breath.  It was time to go find out.  
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fanfalc-616 · 3 years
Text
The Rights of A Nindroid
Chapter Twenty-Five
(Previous Chapter Here)
There’s something slightly extra angsty in Zane’s section... try and see if you can figure out what ;)
Also oh my god I hate politics this is going to suck-
Kai groans as he stares at his computer. “This is a lot harder than I thought…” he mutters to himself, closing his eyes for a moment.
But he quickly shakes his head, returning to the computer. Zane needs him! It doesn’t matter what he has to do or how exhausting it is, he needs to save him.
Politics are the absolute worst, but this was Kai’s idea, so he’s going to have to suck it up and keep going.
Right now, he’s looking into how Lloyd can start running on the ballot: there are two main political parties, and if they want to stand even a chance of getting him elected, they’re going to need to find a way to get him on one.
The current Emperor- or in this case, Empress- is called Harumi, and she’s running again on the political party Monocrean. So the other political party, Arosticarist, will-
Kai mutters a quiet curse as he reads the next line. Damn it.
Someone is already running on the ballot.
His name is… Rune Duncan, apparently. Huh. Kai’s never heard of him, but he’s never really been all that invested in politics.
But if they already have someone running, there’s no way that Lloyd could get in!
Grinding his teeth, Kai shakes his head. No, no, no! They’ve come so far!
With a huff, he gets to his feet, grabbing a jacket and heading out. His house arrest had ended the other day, so thankfully he can go to Borg Tower without breaking any laws.
It doesn’t take him long to find Sentry, who’s talking to some weird blond. But when Kai tries to get into the room…
The automatic door won’t open.
Why does technology hate him so much? What did he ever do to make technology work against him?
“So how has your paper been coming along?” The nindroid general prompts, not seeming to have noticed him.
"Pretty well, actually!” The blond chirps. “But there's still so much I want to learn here, so it may end up being twenty something pages long-"
Finally, Kai manages to get the door open. Ignoring the other guy, he goes up to Sentry. “We have a problem.”
Sentry frowns. “... well hello to you too.” He pauses a moment before adding, “What’s wrong?”
Wasting no time, he cuts to the chase. “Did I tell you about the new plan? Rescuing Zane by making Lloyd Emperor?”
He gets a head shake in response. “No, but it’s all over the news, so I kinda figur- wait, that’s why you’re doing it?”
Annoyingly enough, Kai can’t answer, because the other guy there decides to speak up. "Hey, haven't I seen you trending on Chirp? You're that, uh, Kia guy."
“The name’s Kai, actually.” He corrects. “Look, I don’t know what you do here, but I’ve got something kind of important going on, and I think you should go do something else.” He makes a gesture for him to leave, but Sentry shakes his head, looking mildly annoyed.
“Actually, no, he works here and I was talking to him.” The nindroid general argues. “He can keep working while we talk.”
The blond gives him a smug look, and Kai makes sure to shoot him a glare before continuing on with his point.
“Okay, fine, whatever.” He agrees. “We’re having Lloyd run for Emperor so that he can have the authority so get Zane out of there.”
Sentry nods. “And Cryptor, right?”
Kai feels his frustration building again. “Yeah, him too. Not the point. The issue is that there’s already someone running on both ballots. We need to find a way to get him on one.”
The blond speaks up again. “Have you asked any of them if Lloyd could join them?" He prompts.
“Wh- no.” Kai scoffs. “No, we haven’t, because...“ He stops as he realizes that that might actually be a good idea. “... well. That might work, I guess?”
Sentry shakes his head with a grimace. “No politician gets this far by being nice.” He points out. “They wouldn’t let Lloyd join unless we have a good excuse for them to consider it.”
"Well, there's loads of good reasons and excuses.” Kyle returns. “Blackmail, mainly, has been proven to be… useful."
Kai stares at him for a minute, trying to process what the hell he’s talking about. Blackmail? Seriously?
Eventually, he turns back to Sentry. “... so these are the kind of people you hire here, huh?”
The blond scowls at him, crossing his arms. "I mean, you haven't contributed much yourself. I'm just saying, this could be a possibility."
With a snort, Kai shakes his head. “Yeah, but that’s a little thing we like to call illegal.” He reminds.
“Has that really stopped you so far?” Sentry looks disapproving as he speaks. “How many laws have you broken already?”
A sputtering noise escapes him as he tries to come up with a defense. “Aggravated assault is one thing, blackmail is completely different!”
It only registers that the former is actually worse when he gets a look from the nindroid general.
His face starts to heat up as he crosses his arms, trying to find a way to play it cool. “Why are you trying to convince me to break more laws?” He argues. “Weren’t you just trying to get me to stop?”
“I’m not trying to get you to commit more, I’m trying to point out how bad the ones you’ve already committed are!” Sentry seems to be at his wits end.
As Kai’s about to respond, he notices the blond stifling a laugh of some kind. Frustration wells up inside of him again, and he turns to glare at him.
“Something funny?” He snaps.
The blond smirks. "Nothing for you to worry about."
Kai opens his mouth to snark back, but Sentry speaks up before he can.
“Okay, we’re done here.” The nindroid general pinches the bridge of his nose. “Kai, why don’t you brainstorm with your team to come up with an ethical way to convince them to let Lloyd join. Kyle, please don’t antagonize him- I know he’s annoying, but-“
“Wh-“ Kai fumbles for an argument against that. “He started it!” He snaps.
Sentry gives a tired sigh, but Kyle is soon talking. "Please, Sentry.” He gives Kai a wide, plastic smile. “We're like best friends now!"
Sucking in a deep breath, Kai resists the urge to do something that would probably get him banned from Borg Tower for life. Instead, he forces a strained smile. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” He agrees tightly. “Just stop talking.”
Groaning, Sentry shakes his head “Could you at least pretend to be polite?” He pleads.
Huffing, Kai crosses his arms again. “Like I said: he started it.”
He notices the blond- Kyle, had Sentry said?- typing something on his phone. After a moment, he stops, and Sentry sighs again, glancing at him.
“Kai.” He looks the brunet dead in the eyes. “Go back to the Bounty. I’ll try to come up with some things on my end, but you should keep working on yours.”
Flashing the blond another glare, he gives in. “Fine, I’ll leave.” After getting the words out and turning towards the exit, he pauses. He doesn’t like what he’s about to do, but Zane would probably want him to be polite, if he were still here…
Quietly, he mumbles, “... thanks for the advice, I guess.”
He can hear the smug grin in Kyle’s voice. "That? Oh, that was nothing, you're very welcome."
Sucking in a deep breath, Kai heads out, back to the Bounty.
It’s time to do some research on this Rune Duncan.
{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }
Zane stares blankly at his handcuffs, staying silent as he walks.
As of late, Kyle and occasionally a guard will take him out of his locker and walk him around, most likely to prevent any of his joints from locking up after having been caged away for so long.
Still, the logical reasoning behind it doesn’t make the way he’s taken around by a chain on his cuffs like a dog on a leash any less humiliating.
After a while, Kyle speaks up. “How are your ankles?” He prompts. “They look fine, they didn't lock up once this time."
The words make Zane instinctively glance down at his feet. “I’m functioning normally.” His voice has a very bitter note to it as he speaks. “Nothing’s currently locking up.”
"Good.” Kyle smiles- and not even a psychopathic one. “That's awesome."
There’s silence for a long minute as they walk, but Zane doesn’t speak. He just stares downwards numbly and waits to be addressed.
There’s a part of him screaming at the injustice of it all, at the way he’s being treated and the humiliation he’s been forced to endure. But the vast majority of it simply… doesn’t care.
This is happening to him whether he resists or not, so why should he keep fighting? It never makes a difference, and he’s been fighting for so long that he just… wants a break. To be able to rest. He’s so tired of all of this, and it feels so much easier to simply give in to their whims.
After a few more moments, Kyle speaks up.
"...Kai passed by, today.” He comments. “Talked about politics." As he speaks, he seems to be studying him carefully.
Zane tiredly glances up, not enough to make eye contact. He doesn’t know whether to believe the words, but it doesn’t really matter if he does. Having an actual verbal conversation is a form of relief, and Zane will gladly take this chance.
“That’s interesting.” He comments quietly. “Did he mention me?”
There’s a low chuckle. "He did, actually! He's still trying to get both of you out, somehow.” Kyle smiles as he shakes his head. “Good to know some things don't change."
Some things never change, huh? Just like the torturous routine in this facility.
A tired sigh escapes him as he looks off to the side. “Yes, good to know,” he agrees in a dull tone.
"I'm actually surprised at how little you care about him, now.” The blond continues to walk alongside him, thankfully not randomly tugging on the chain like he had done in times past. “I mean, it was never real emotions, but it's weird not hearing you ask desperately about him like before."
Zane feels himself tense up. “They are real emotions.” He growls out under his breath.
Kyle suddenly stops, making Zane stumble at the unexpected pause. "Zeroes and ones. It's the only real thing about them." He reminds, stepping in close. "You better remember that."
Refusing to look up, it gives a weak nod. “I’ll remember…” he agrees, hating how little life is left in his voice as he speaks.
"Good.” Kyle has a satisfied smile on his face. “Let's go." He prompts, starting to walk again.
Zane dutifully follows, cursing himself for how easily he’s begun to give in. There wasn’t even a real threat this time, he had simply given in of his own accord.
His days are numbered.
At the realization, he stops in his tracks, feeling himself begin to tremble, fear taking a cold grasp over him.
Kyle stops beside him, raising an eyebrow in a way to demand answers.
He finally manages to look up, to look Kyle in the eyes. His voice is barely above a whisper as he speaks a simple haunting question.
“... what do you plan to do with me?”
There’s a brief pause before Kyle answers him. It seems that he doesn’t quite understand what Zane’s getting at.
"Break you.” He says bluntly, seeming almost confused by the question. “I thought it was obvious."
Zane manages to shake its head. “No, I know that.” He agrees. “But… after that. When you’ve won. What will become of me?”
The question sets dread seeping through him as his mind comes with worse and worse possibilities of what he may be made to do.
Kyle frowns, seeming to be pondering the question. "...We could use extra engineers for weapons no one in their right mind would agree to build." He decides.
Confusion momentarily takes place of the dark feeling inside. “... you were upset that someone had died because of me, but you would use me to create things to kill others?” He questions.
Kyle’s voice is quiet and almost threatening. "...Gavin was the only thing I cared about. Still is. Now…" He looks over at Zane, and he can see the bitter darkness in his eyes. "...Now the world can burn, for all I care."
After taking a moment to process the words, Zane gives a soft nod and looks back down. “Thank you.”
He can feel Kyle’s confusion. "For what?" The blond questions.
“Answering.” Zane says simply. “I… I do not want to build weapons, but I… I’m glad to at least know what my future will be before I…” He trails off.
Before he no longer cares.
There’s a bitter laugh from the blond. "Not like you have a choice." After a pause, he sighs. "I feel like I'm being way too nice to you again."
Zane stays quiet, unsure of what to say. He keeps his eyes cast downwards as he waits for further instruction.
There’s a dark pause for a moment before Kyle roughly yanks on the chain connected to his cuffs. "Walk." He orders.
Zane stays silent as he does what he’s told.
There are no words left for it to say.
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petroltogo · 3 years
Text
What I meant to do was write a short little Byakuran POV that gives you more insight into how activation and deactivation work. What I actually wrote was a lot of Byakuran POV but not that. Oops?
The world is made of patterns. They are everywhere, govern life on every level, from the habits of a single individual to the way traffic moves on the central roads of a megapolis to the way a country is run, the way an entire society functions — everywhere Byakuran looks, patterns stare back at him.
Some are obvious, a glaring color that is uncomfortable to look at directly amidst a world shaded in grey. Some are subtle, a gentle flow you can barely perceive with the naked eye and all the more influential for it. Don’t get Byakuran wrong because there’s one thing about patterns that keeps tripping people up, keeps messing with them and holding them back from seeing what seems so painfully obvious to Byakuran, it might as well have been written in glowing, orange letters on the sky: Patterns aren’t a pre-determined backing form that decides what size and shapes the muffins are gonna turn out to be. They’re fluid. Patterns break and stutter and readjust every day, every moment. They are deterministic and adaptive both, malleable to circumstances and chance, yet they ultimately prevail. They grow and they stumble and take a sudden step to the left because someone or something falls out of synch — but they always, always continue to flow.
It would be incorrect to say that Byakuran see predict the future because what he actually does is see a future. Every time a pattern catches his attention, every time a new one settles into the world around him, Byakuran sees it and he can use that to predict the most likely courses of action. Can see where that pattern will lead, what will come of it, which one will triumph over the other patterns already in place.
[continues under the cut]
Of course patterns break. Patterns die away. Quietly. Their potential unseen, the lost opportunities unmourned. Sometimes it’s chance, sometimes it’s a single person’s disruptive will. Sometimes it’s Byakuran’s when he doesn’t like the outcomes a setting pattern will lead to, the subtle mood it eludes.
Here’s the thing: Byakuran couldn’t always see the patterns. Couldn’t always pick them out with deadly accuracy as though they light up in individually colored fairy lights just for him. Couldn’t always close his eyes and listen to the soft hum they give of, an almost inaudible vibration that conveys a pattern’s character in a way even Byakuran with all his intellect and multiple languages to fall back on struggles to put into words.
It’s a bit like they’re talking to him, sharing their essence with him. Like the world whispers and if you only take the time to pause and listen carefully, you’ll hear what it says and you get to pick which ones voices you like the sound of and help them grow, help them outshine all the others and so the way you speak back reshapes the world’s very voice right before your eyes. It’s a heady feeling.
But when Byakuran first started, it wasn’t about power. Wasn’t about manipulating the sound that colors all the world’s open spaces. It was— It was just something to do. The patterns were Byakuran’s first friends. 
Because seeing the patterns isn’t a gift, a talent Byakuran was born with or woke up with one day. It’s an ability he’s worked hard for, one he trains and hones daily, even now that Byakuran has reached a point where he can’t turn it off, can’t stop seeing the patterns, can’t play at ignorance about what the world screams at him. Just the way Byakuran likes it. He prefers too loud over too quiet, always has.
Byakuran shares that particular trait with a lot of other lab kids and it’s not the only one. Like the majority of the thousands of super kids that are legally or illegally created in laboratories all over the world every year, Byakuran spends his early childhood years locked away in an isolated room with little to no human contact. Like most lab kids, he understands on some level that he is human — better than most of them, probably, because hello, unparalleled genius here — but doesn’t live among them. Always on the outside, looking in. 
[Mimicking what comes natural to civilian children everywhere. Never completely silencing the sliver of doubt that you’re faking, that you’re acting out a play you never connected with on an emotional level and that terrible, terrible question that never lets go of you entirely: What if there’s some things you just can’t recreate in a lab? What if there’s something human you’re lacking?]
It all starts as part of Byakuran’s education. The fact that he’s severely limited in his social interactions means that his teachers put a lot of effort into teaching him human behavior from afar. Byakuran learns basic psychology, watches age-appropriate media, learns to tell the differences between family, friends, colleagues, acquaintances and strangers through books and lectures and a lot of videos. He learns how humans function, how they interact, what type of behavior is considered widely appropriate and what isn’t — comedies are invaluable for that — and how social rules differ among cultures and varying backgrounds, learns how to interpret facial expressions and gestures and how to copy them.
And because Byakuran is a genius, he starts seeing patterns in all of it. And because the patterns follow clear rules, obey a logic all of their own, make sense of human behaviors in a way observations alone don’t, he starts to focus on them. Identifying patterns helps Byakuran predict how a conversation goes, helps him foresee how people move and act in a way his lessons don’t and he wants that understanding. He needs it.
[He’s so very bored.]
With endless free time on his hands and the added incentive of better understanding humanity, Byakuran dives into those patterns head first. He progresses in leaps and bounds, expands and expands, goes beyond biology, neurology and psychology into physics and mathematics and sees them everywhere.
[Byakuran lives in a world of his own making, an eternal outsider to life bustling a few hundred kilometers away from the estate he’s trapped in, and so it takes him years, almost a full decade to realize how far he’s gone, how far he’s removed himself from everyone else. If they ever were on the same plane to begin with. When Byakuran is twelve and his teachers have run out of things to teach him, he learns that other people don’t see the patterns the way he does, don’t hear the world the way he does, but it’s not until Byakuran is fifteen and steps outside for the first time in his life, partakes in the real world that he really gets it.
Seeing the patterns doesn’t make it easier to move with them, follow them, be a part of them. If anything it makes it harder. Like Byakuran’s peaked behind the curtains of the universe and by doing so has lost his ability to plead ignorance. And it wouldn’t be a problem, not really, because Byakuran has never had any interest in ignorance anyway. 
Except that humans feel it. Byakuran doesn’t know how or why, doesn’t know what’s missing when he follows every line in the script to the letter, but somehow, instinctively the people around him know that he’s cheating. That he’s different. That he’s not moving to the same rhythm as they do. And every time Byakuran gets distracted by a shiny new pattern, every time he loses focus for a second, he stops following along and that alone is enough to disrupt the patterns that never settle right around his shoulders.
So he stops trying. Eventually. Fitting in doesn’t suit him and following along the same patterns everyone else sticks to gets boring fast anyway. Being disruptive on the other hand, whether by accident or by design? That turns out to be fun.
Besides. Disrupting patterns to create some excitement is its own kind of pattern, isn’t it?]
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