#even if he could logically say “oh he's trustworthy”

[artsysurvivor]

It's soo telling that Halt (a prince-become-ranger who will die if he's alone for 2 minutes) saw Will having a hard time with the death of Alyss and Maddie being a little snotty/bratty and immediately thought "you know what would work?

Ranger training"

[tired-reader-writer]

Tus is happy for them! Man I know it's unlikely but I hope we get a glimpse of Isfan and Tus in the coming chapter 122.

Arakawa really put us in Baracion's headspace here— I'm not sure I would've had the heart to order the closing of the gates if I were in his shoes, too.

Baracion makes me sad.

I only have a vague idea of where the Keep of St. Emmanuel is on the map, not an exact location, but considering Gieve later heads to... Mt. Damavand? I wonder what he's doing here. The locations/directions don't seem like they aligned?

Went and checked, this is what Daryun said about Gieve's task:

“From the start, Narsus had been wanting to send someone trustworthy, and possessed of both wisdom and knowledge, to spy on the state of affairs within the royal capital and the Lusitanian army.”

So okay, the direction is the same but then it means Gieve took a heck of a detour ey? This kinda bummed me out a little bc I wanted to think Gieve wanted to hover around Arslan a little more whether he himself knew it or not, and wanted to still help.

Oh, well. This is fine too.

No particular commentary!

Something about this dialogue being paired with a depiction of dead soldiers is... something. I don't know what it is, probably to let the readers know that nobody is surrendering.

I know I've said this before but like, I wonder if they knew what the Lusitanians were doing to the Parsians, maybe they didn't because they were with Baracion the entire time but still, I don't know what to feel about this.

I guess they had no reason to believe Pars would have mercy on them. Arslan is somewhat of an oddball so to say— but... Ugh.

They make me feel complicated things.

I don't suppose those soldiers could speak Lusitanian, I don't blame Narsus for not having prepared for this because he probably couldn't have anticipated that they'd go straight to suicide.

This entire situation just doesn't feel great.

I like this panel.

You're fucking correct, Arslan, please do keep pointing out the gaps in the Lusitanians' “logic”! T_T

Even knowing what I know of Etoile, I still find it hard to be fond of them at this point unfortunately.

I wonder why somebody like that was on a military campaign, surely Guiscard should've known he wouldn't be of good use in a combat scenario? It was mentioned later that Bodin took control over all books in Lusitania, Maryam, and Pars so maybe that's why but still, shouldn't he have been made to stay behind? Etoile's grandfather (or parents) didn't come, did they? Was it mandatory for every noble family to send someone?

Or, and I don't know how likely this is, did Baracion only come onto campaign when he found out Etoile was joining? To look after them?

[davekat-sucks]

Simce this is the last day of Pride month (as I submit this) I want to confess: I never understood why people said Bridget from Guilt Gear was groomed.

You can take this with a pinch of salt, I haven’t played the Guilty Gear games, this is just what I learned from discourse:

Starting with Bridget in Guilty Gear XX. Bridget is a child of a pair of twins born in a town that thinks twins are a curse. Bridget’s family raises one son as a boy and Bridget as a girl so neither twin has to be the one kicked out of the family.

At age 14 Bridget leaves the town to find his brother, take him home, reveal to everyone they were both twins, and debunk the superstition.

Bridget still worse his girly clothes, why? He was independent and had no stigma anymore to look like a girl, so why still wear girl clothes? Was it grooming? I will explain why it isn’t.

First, by the assumption that grooming forces a person to act a specific way, Bridget was away from his parents and could act independently, and s chose t wear his clothes because he likes it.

If the grooming was “internalized” how was it? Was Bridget doing it out of obligation for his family? If so I could see that as grooming, Bridget wants to appease the groomers.

If it was all the clothes Bridget has ever known, then it isn’t grooming, otherwise all parents would have to be groomers for this to be logically consistent.

And if it’s just “oh Bridget likes dressing this way” then it’s not grooming, grooming is someone coercing somebody to do favors for the groomer’s wants by tricking the child into thinking they are a trustworthy authority figure.

If Bridget likes wearing girl clothes, then Bridget’s parents are supporting his lifestyle, rather than protect him out of obligation from the town. By the way the latter reason is not inherently evil, it’s an unorthodox way to protect your kids but Bridget’s family loves him.

Okay now to Strive. The superstition is gone, Bridget is still a femboy, now he’s 19. He goes bounty hunting again because he feels like something’s off. Blah blah blah the story ends with Bridget being a girl. I also know Bridget’s bio describes him as a feminine boy but yeah duh if the bio spoils the character’s arc then what’s the point of the story mode?

All in all I can NOT rationalize any reasoning where Bridget wasn’t groomed into being a femboy but groomed into being a woman. Strive Bridget was an adult, and the town superstition hadn’t existed for 5 years. So who groomed her then?

Her parents? Then you’d have to argue XX Bridget was groomed, because they raised her to look like a girl.

We already established Bridget independently liked being a feminine boy in XX, (and his parents are supportive, not grooming) so in strive Bridget wanted to be a girl, so who groomed Bridget to be a girl instead of a femboy?

I disagree with your argument. First off, in XX, Bridget felt guilty of being born the same sex. His story in that game was trying to DISPROVE that him being born as a set twin was not true. How? By becoming a bounty hunter and making money. If he can bring a lot of money to the villagers and tell them the truth, it would show that even the circumstances of his birth, it's not all bad luck. Why change it later on in Strive? Does that mean his town's superstitious belief is justified now? Some may claim in one of XC's endings for Bridget, his brother DOES go missing. So it is the bad luck that the villager's feared. Then why in the Japanese dub of it, Bridget uses BOKU instead of BUCHI when referring to himself at the end? If he wanted to continue playing up his disguise as a girl, he should have used the later. Instead, he went with the former, BOKU. In the Pachinko game, Vast XT, Bridget's lines say he wants to be seen as a man by the villagers and dislikes being cute. Yes, Pachinko is weird in itself for us Westerners, but it technically is canon since it is from Japan and made by the same company. Do we dismiss this just because us Westerners could never have access to it?

[thesaltyoceanwaves]

By this point, I think it’s safe to say that Miraculous Ladybug is not about ‘girl power’.  Not in the way that’s traditionally meant.  Rather than empowering girls, it’s about disempowering them – presenting the idea of girls having any kind of power as problematic.

The series twists itself into knots blaming Marinette for everything that goes wrong, following the most inane lines of ‘logic’ imaginable.  It is far more invested in convincing its audience that she IS to blame for things far out of her control, that she is responsible for everything bad that happens.  Her, and perhaps a few other characters as well… namely Chloe, Alya, Lila…

Oh, Adrien?  Why, Adrien hasn’t done anything wrong.  How could you even suggest such a thing?  No, no, Adrien is perfect just the way he is, hasn’t made a single misstep anywhere.  There is no war in Ba Sing Se.

And what makes this all so much more disturbing is how it’s working.  How much of the fanbase mindlessly parrots the party line, cheering on her suffering and insisting that she ’deserves it’, that her misery is well warranted.  This is not and has never been a show about uplifting and supporting young girls; it is about tearing them down and punishing them for not catering to spoiled brats like Adrien.  Teaching them that this is the way things are meant to be.

What is this going to teach impressionable young girls? If you have a crush on a popular guy that other girls like, they’re are immediately your enemies. It’s natural for girls to be pinned against eachother for the stupidest reasons. Teaching girls to turn against each other and mistreat each other like the common stereotype. That their only good people if they bend over backwards for the person they like even though their crush doesn’t do the same.

It’s disgusting.

Well anon, you've essentially summed up the reason why I quit watching this show.

Like the whole ending of the season being that Marinette loses all of the other miraculouses but still has AdriChat is devastating. Like:

A. AdriChat being solely depended on is not a healthy thing. He's not going to have all the answers MariBug needs, and his perspective is limited.

B. MariBug wasn't going to other holders because she couldn't trust AdriChat - it was because the scale and intensity of their fights was getting to be too much for the two of them to handle on their own.

C. AdriChat has proven that he's not entirely trustworthy anyway - like he was pulling shit all the way back in s1, but his actions in s3 and s4 are the most telling. And unlike MariBug, who always has to learn a lesson, even when it doesn't make sense, or makes up for her mistakes, Adrien's "mistakes" don't even count as mistakes because hE cOuLd NeVeR!

Like most magical girl anime, even the ones that really lean into power of love, aren't like this. They encourage friendship and teamwork and relying on each other, not just your love interest. How ML manages to be MG-inspired but miss that entirely is beyond me.

[welcometomybraincomics]

Prompt: The door you had locked, is wide open. [Station 5]

Department head 22 is being paranoid/ someone stole an amnestic 

◦ Funny idea: because 22 works with amnesties, he became paranoid. He’d move something and then forget it due to an experiment and thought someone else had moved it. He’d eat something and then forget and think someone else ate his food. He’d talk to someone and then forget so he thinks someone’s impersonating him.

◦ Ironically, this also means he had a minor immunity to amnestics; they don’t work as well on him because his body is used to working with them in his system

Department Head 22 locked all his doors. Locked them with chains and deadbolts and padlocks and codes. His passwords and keys never stayed the same for more than a week, sometimes he even changed them within 3 days. 

22 was a very secure, very paranoid mech. His berthroom door had a lock on it. The chest of coded messages in his room had a lock on it. His living quarters had a lock on it. The vents in his quarters were welded shut with a filter over them to catch any dangerous aromatics. His office had two doors which each  had DNA an password locks. He had Letha’s security systems in both his personal and work quarters.

When he came into his lab and found the door to his chemical case wide open with all his experiments missing, he froze. His processor ran a mile a minute, combing through all of his action of that day and the last and the day before that and the week before that and he couldn’t find where he had gone wrong,who he’s spoken to who could’ve gotten into his lab or gotten the keys to his cabinet or gotten past his security system which was still active when he came in and could only be shutdown with his sparksignature. His lines ran cold and his knees went weak. Someone had broken into his lab and stolen his things. Someone had broken into his lab. Oh Primus, his lab. And his experiments were gone. What else did they take? What did they want? What could anyone one want? What would they do with- what were they doing with- who would want- his experiments! They were amnestics! They were going to erase someone’s memory! He needed to warn someone!

His breaths were ragged and he had collapsed onto the floor in his panic. He gripped the counter and pulled himself off the cold, clean, laboratory floor. He needed to warn somebody! His scrambling steps scraped along the ground of his quiet office and the sound of his breaths filled the silence. Who could he trust to help him? Who could he warn??? Captain! Captain was always trustworthy, always busy, always caring, always trustworthy. He needed to warn his Captain. He would know what to do, he always knew what to do, he was always trustworthy.

He ran through the quiet halls of the science division, deserted because of their danger and damaged because of it too. He was too slow on his stumbling, panicking legs. He needed to go faster. Flipping into his alt-mode, he sped in the the more populated halls, weaving in and out of bots who shouted obscenities at his indecency. He didn’t care, he didn’t have time, he needed to warm Captain. He changed back into root-mode right as he skidded into the bridge.

“Captain! Captain!” He shouted, grabbing the mech by the shoulders and shaking him heartily. “There-there’s been a security breach! S-someone stole my experiments! Amnestics! They’re going to erase memories!”

“Calm down, mech.” Captain replied, grabbing the department head’s forearms and holding them still. “Go a little slower. Where did this happen?”

“Science sector, room 1140, my personal lab.”

“And what did you say your name was?”

22’s lines ran cold. Captain didn’t remember him. He was already too late.

This is when everybody started to forget things.

this is also when the number system starts being implemented , so 22 technically isn't 22 at this point. Though this may be working on one of my other logic trains wherein the number system was implemented to keep track of all the people who had been, in essence, exiled to station 5

[yostresswritinggirl]

Genshin Boys would be Horrible as Disney Princes

Headcanon and Reader Perspective, Drabble

Sojourner Special (Followers Event)

Despite being the gentleman and sweethearts that they are, in the wrong hands, of badly aligned context and universal rules these boys can barely function as princes given their own ideals.

Diluc in Cinderella

Shortest one, oops.

Our Diluc would honestly be too busy for balls if we're doing this canonically, night time of all times. He's not your prince tonight, he's off somewhere doing Knight stuff...

If by chance you did catch him in the ball and he did indulge you with your dance until you escapaded at midnight, he's not gonna question it.

And since he didn't even REMEMBER your face, the next day just goes on as usual. No decree for searching the whole land for your foot or anything, it's just a normal day after a party.

"They left without a word, no name or promise, who am I to say no when they clearly don't want to stay?"

He's a gentleman. Too gentlemanly...

Childe in Sleeping Beauty

In this scenario, Childe embraces his knight-ness more than the princely aspect. I mean sure, he danced with you in the forest all so lovingly, sang along to your pretty lil voice. But when the prophecy came, his focus changed—

To the thrill of fighting a big ass green fire breathing dragon! Big woah, Childe had soooo much fun fighting it that he didn't even cheese it.

He lived for every hour of the fight and made it as slow as possible. Taunting, playing with his PREY- mid-fight the dragon would realize just how strong and horrifying Prince Childe is, but the entertainment had started, and the dance won't end until Childe wills it.

When he DID finally slay the damned thing, he'll come up to your quarters and stare at your sleeping body, and then think "Hey, if them being put under this spell gave me the fight of the century? What if ANOTHER dragon comes? That would be amazing!" No waking up for you, or the whole city for that matter.

Albedo in Frog Princess

You... You don't even get the chance to be the frog princess in here... simply because he himself REFUSES to change back to normal. You have never met a man so intelligent, much more a frog.

"I know of which you are not, I won't be fooled by cardboard crowns and secondhand dresses," you choke as he berates every fiber of your being, "It matters not, I still have much to learn about the life of an amphibian."

He disappears after that and you've never heard from him ever again, although at the back of your mind you're pretty sure he's a live and well, that bastard is too smart to end up as roadkill.

And well, you're right, he's out there in the world of frogs doing frog things. Triumphant over frog science and the other talking creatures he may meet.

He'll also find a way to revert himself back to normal, either making his own cure or just enlisting the help of a princess to bargain.

He might come to you upon the logic of marriage counting you as princess, but don't get too hyped, you won't be treated as his wife. He'd be too busy putting his frog research into paper...

Zhongli in Beauty and the Beast

A beast he may be, he's still dignified and elegant, upholding his end of the bargain so long as the other does the same.

Your father may have trespassed and have taken some flowers in his domain but well, really it's such a petty crime that can easily be solvable. And even if there needs to be punishment incured...

When you stumble to the mansion in search of your father, ready to take his place from his jail cell, you find him and the beast (ohh half-dragon Zhongles) by an elegant table drinking cups of tea with light conversation. Huh?

"There is no need to fret, your father and I are just discussing the terms of our contract. He spoke of his woodworks that I wish to commission in exchange, such good potential should not be wasted."

You can also, well, pay off things within contract? But either way, it would be hella awakward, he won't impose on your life and most certainly not about the curse when you had so much to live for.

Kaeya in Rapunzel

Little bitch, thru and thru. If Eugene is such a criminal, he's taking it TENFOLD.

He's not even gonna be the slightest bit trustworthy for you, little Rapunzel, because he raises so many red flags your frying pan wouldn't even be enough to threaten him. He probably has a really thick skull, and your resolve won't be able to smack that pretty face.

Bargaining won't work, he'd sleight of hand his way out and get the crown knowing you'd hid it in the pot immediately, and then just backflip outta there.

If you manage to get him to get you out, he's not gonna be of help either. Kaeya would be amused with toying with you, leaving you in the dark as you get scared shitless/dance around with some tavern criminals. Otherwise, ehh...

One way or another, he's gonna find a way to get you off his case. Either forcing you to travel with companions that's headed to the city anyways or forcefully knocking you out and heaving you back to your tower.

"You have a mother that never ages lock you up in this tower? Nu uh, sweetie, I'm not dealing with the dark forces of witchery when I'm already well off with the crown."

He got the crown.

Venti in Snow White

I'm sorry what? Free apples? Eternal sleep in a beautiful bed? He's gonna be glad to just take your place. (Spoilers, he would)

He'd be most definitely entertained with your dwarves, playing his tunes. You life would be filled with his lyre as he plays around, not even caring about the other implications of yours or his status in this woodland forest.

You ran away from home? Cool, freedom, man. Wish he could the same without jeopardizing the kingdom and his family. He'd probably take the apple too just for you~

During your rest, he'll come up with the most eloquent song to play for your seven dwarves as he watches your fate sadly. How peaceful you looked, away from the world and from the grips of death.

The dwarves would force him to please try and break the spell, and he'll shrug and indulge- except it didn't break the spell, as he expected it to be. And they are clueless on who else you had encountered in your life to even spare a true love's kiss.

"How saddening, the princess lays. Maddening to those around as they'd say, if only my kiss was enough for the curse to sway." You died, ouch.

Xiao in Mulan

Brutal. Brutal. Brutal. His voicelines would come in sooooo handy here, oh my goodness.

If you miraculously bypassed his analytical gaze enough to hide your sexuality, you're going to die in his training program. He's not gonna go easy on you, not when the fate of the nation lies upon your capability to keep up. You're gonna go through far worse than what true Mulan went through, and you may or may not just die in the process.

If by chance you survived, this would warrant enough respect to not kill you (oh, you lived) but you better not show up again.

He's never gonna be delighted to see your traitorous face again, he can save China on his own, thank you very much. And you know he can. Try and approach him, and a sword would be at your neck once again.

"Foolish gremlin, you think you had the right to present yourself after the treason you willfully committed? We won't crumble at the loss of one person, your job here is done." How sad.

Cyno in Little Mermaid

First of all, wack, mermaids exist! Sadly, that's nothing new for him. He knows a lot with that intelligent mind of his, so it would be no surprise that the existence of such mythical creatures doesn't make him bat an eyelash. He's been living near water, he's not that stupid.

With that in mind, your presence in your first meeting is going to be bad. Very bad. Cyno knows about sirens and he's not at all gonna fall for it, and if by chance he had known you before the ship was wrecked, he's probably gonna be veryyy keen in capturing you instead.

So if by chance you're stupid enough to interact with him and DESIRE to be on land with him, you're gonna deal with a lot of problems.

You're not getting that kiss easily. No, it's a huge challenge. He'd be repulsed in your naivety and will most likely be more concerned on your voice than ever. He'd be so kind to try and give a shot in helping with the cure but it's not the cure you needed.

He'll drown himself in every literature in full concentration just to see if there's any text he can find about curses and muteness. His curiousity would get the best of him, and you'll barely see him after you managed to explain your predicament without the need for words. Octopus woman doesn't even need to show up to intervene.

"A kiss? Surely not, such ailment won't be cured by fairytale methods." And then he goes back to his library once again. And you will be seafoam the next sunrise. Or was it sunset?

"So now that we've established these grounds," Exiled turns to the other two in the area, "Maybe, these boys would be better off as princesses."

And so the trio concocts a new type of fairytale, collaborated to masterpieces soon after.

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @struggljng @ellitx @kookieyachi @dandelion-dreams

[yama-mochi]

wager worth losing

pairing: royalty au!bokuto x gn!reader

word count: 8.5k (i’m so sorry i got into it)

warnings: a lot of trust issues and mentions of betrayal

summary: being a royal courtier has led you to build up an immovable wall, unflinching and unfeeling. sadly, the wall didn't account for bokuto koutarou. maybe it isn't so immovable anymore, is it?

note: this is the angstiest reader i’ve written i’m so sorry if it seems like a lot but also shoutout to @fukurodanni who i wrote this for!! i write a lot of gifts for them because they are lovely and very very kind. also happy belated birthday bokuto!! this is a little late <3

Trustworthy. Such a simple word with so many connotations. Throughout your years inside of palace walls and gilded rooms you have met only one person you think might fit into the word’s neat definition. Akaashi Keiji was your friend since childhood, and the only one who actually decided to stay. Even in the constricting stares of noblemen through court rooms, you know that no matter what you can look over to Akaashi and see someone who you can say anything to. How amusing that you won’t have that soon.

“How long do you think you will be gone?” You try to keep your voice even, almost an instinctual reaction to anything new and changing in your life, where the slightest shift in expression could ruin you, but you can tell Akaashi hears that timber in your voice when he looks over with a pained glance.

“Seven months.”

You turn away. You know it is irrational to be upset with him, because he doesn’t like this just as much as you do, but you can still feel those pinpricks against your chest, whispers of “he wants to leave you” settling across your skin. You shake it off and begin walking away, finding solace in the fact that you knew the footsteps you’d hear behind would still be there for a short while longer. You’ve never gone a day without hearing the soft, yet solid thumps against rich mahogany floors. It fills you with a comfort in the rhythm, a comfort in the stability of knowing you will hear it with you, behind you, that somewhere near you there will always be a friend.

How will the silence feel?

“I’m not going to be leaving you alone.” He says it gently, coaxing you back into speaking with him, with rationalizing, because that was always your relationship with Akaashi. A fine balance of assumptions and reasoning, of instinct and logic. It was how you built your friendship, and it’s also how you pull away and he calls you back.

“Oh really? Because it sounds like you won’t be here for four whole months.” You snap back in a hushed whisper, a knife cutting through the peaceful fog he tried to settle because now was not a time to think rationally.

“I am sending for someone to take my place in court during absence, and I’ve handpicked him. He will not leave you alone.”

“Oh so now it’s two changes! Even better!” You throw your hands in the air as you walk through opulent halls of gold and silver, gaudy showings of wealth until you reach the oh so familiar doors of your room. You throw them open, and even though you feel anger pulsing through your veins you can feel your fingers hold open the door long enough for Akaashi to slip inside.

You take a deep breath, and keep your face away from him. “I know it’s not your fault. I know. But it still…. it still hurts me.” It’s a wound you can’t cauterize, an ache that won't fade and you know it won’t heal until seven months have passed and you can see the soft smile that graces his face when you tease him just right again. “You just have to give me some time to come to terms with it.” You pace across the too big room and settle on the bed, not bothering to iron out the wrinkles that crease along the covers, allowing the fabric to crumple and bend as you bring your eyes up to the only person you’ve ever trusted.

“I will miss you. Terribly.” You can’t help the chuckle that escapes your mouth, however wet and broken it might be. He always seemed to know what to say with you, the knowledge passed on from sneaking out to dim-lit libraries and late night conversations leading to not only befriending you but knowing you. It shows in the soft sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you, a maimed smile stretched across his lips that melts into a grimace when you stand to hug him.

“And I as well, ‘Kaashi.” It’s muffled into his shoulder. You can feel the ruffles across the cuffs of his blouse brush against your back as he hugs you tighter, almost trying to memorize the feeling. You know you will both walk out with puffy eyes and tear stained clothing, but you can’t find it in yourself to care as you try to dig yourself deeper into his embrace, to feel as close as you can before you won’t be able to anymore.

“So who’s this replacement supposed to be? I need to know so I can avoid him.” You can feel his laughter echo from his chest to yours, the reverb bouncing through your body and settling you all at once.

“I think he will be quite difficult to avoid. He is someone I trust, and I know he will be there for you.” You hear his words, and you want to imagine living in a place where you can put that trust in someone, to meet someone and not pick out the flaws and imperfections, to see all the things they are with vulnerability and not judgement. This castle is shiny and tacky all at once, and you’ve learned to shield your eyes from views laced with fake gold. It isn’t worth the fantasy of pricelessness.

“There for me? Sure until he sees something brighter on the other side of the courtroom, then he’ll be out in mere moments.” Akaashi sighs and untangles himself from you, staring down in an almost disappointed, but not surprised, expression. How could he be surprised when he was there for the backstabbing and fake smiles and honeyed words laced with arsenic fed to you until you refused to eat anymore.

“Would you like to wager?” You throw him a confused look, noticing the slight shine to his eyes. The look that he knew something you didn’t. But this was a challenge, and this could get you through the seven arduous months of ghostly footsteps in hallways and lonely libraries. The thought of rubbing a victory in his face when he got back was also just as tempting.

“I’d love nothing more.”

--------

He leaves two days later.

Someone new arrives soon after.

The first thing you notice is that he is big. He is built like a knight rather than a noble, a strength to his movements, and a surety that you have rarely seen in those that surround you. It fills you with a curiosity. Watching through a window of the library you’ve stayed in for the past few days, hiding in a safe haven of memories that can keep you only so content without the one residing in them being beside you.

He is different, broad shoulders and an even broader smile pushing up his cheeks as he greets the party sent to welcome him, and you can’t help but stare through dirt covered panes and the ivy that covers them at the unusualness of it all. This was the one Akaashi trusted to be there for you? He was so open and vulnerable though, and your first assumption is that this is an act. It’s a fake naivete, a foolishness that would only last so long before revealing something deeper. The inevitable unfurling of fangs.

As if feeling a stare, the man’s eyes dart across the lawn, scanning across before looking up to the windows and settling on your figure. You freeze, breath caught in your throat in a vice grip as you lock eyes with him. Even through the window you can see golden irises looking at you with as much curiosity as you feel for him.

He smiles. A wave follows not soon after, instinctual and happy as he looks up at you, and the strangeness of it all tugs the small wave from your arm before you duck down and quickly walk to another section of the library. You are so unsure. It raises a feeling of discomfort in you as you finally sit down in a different corner of the library, far away from any windows or knightly nobles.

It didn’t appear as though he thought anything of you looking down to greet him. He almost seemed…. Excited? Almost childishly happy for the attention you gave him, a complete stranger, and it continues to bother you until you realize that you would eventually have to speak with him, and that confusion leads to intimidation.

This was not at all the man who you would think Akaashi would send to help you.

You manage to avoid him for the better part of the day, but peeking down hallway corridors and avoiding crowded spaces can only get you so far before you eventually feel a tap on your shoulder as you take your place to sit at the large marble table in the center of the castle. You hated court sessions, but you also hate the fact that this new stranger was tapping your shoulder from the same seat Akaashi sat in.

“Hello! It’s a pleasure to meet you, would you happen to be friends with a man named Akaashi?” He greets you warmly, so warmly in fact that you can’t do anything but stare at him in confusion until eventually he drops his arm in concern.

“Did I get the seats mixed up? Akaashi told me that whoever the person was sitting to the right of his seat was his friend, but I might’ve gotten it wrong I’m really sorry-” You watch him ramble for a few moments, and try to decipher what this could possibly mean. Was it a ploy to get on your good side?

“You didn’t get it wrong. I am Akaashi’s friend. I presume you are the man sent to… replace him, while he is gone?” You speak as coolly and calmly as you can, and despite the height difference you see him deflate the smallest bit at your tone.

“Ah! Good! Okay that’s reassuring,” He pushes his seat in more, the legs scraping across the marbled floor with a small squeak as he mutters to himself, "I was almost sure I got it wrong.”

“My name is Bokuto Koutarou, and I’ll be here to ensure your safety while Akaashi is gone.” Hearing that fills you with confidence. You had assessed him properly the first time you saw him.

“You’re a knight? That makes a little more sense-”

You hear a smothered laugh, and look up to see him covering his mouth with his hand. Noticing your incredulous stare he snickers one more time before uncovering his mouth to reveal the shark toothed grin underneath it.

“I’m so sorry, but why does everyone think I’m a knight? If you're looking for a knight in my family, that would be my sister, but I am usually a court advisor.” You can barely manage to cover the surprised look on your face before you smother it. He was a court advisor? How could you have been so far off? The only court advisor you had ever met could barely be considered a person with the fangs they bared in every sneer and subjugating remark they threw.

From what he has shown he was nothing like that, and you didn’t know what to do. It made you nervous.

“Alright then. If you’re such an amazing court advisor that even Akaashi trusts you, what can you tell me about the people sitting here right now?” You motion your hand to the numerous others sitting down preparing for today's council session, and Bokuto’s eyes follow your hand as you point throughout the room.

“I couldn’t tell you that right now, my main focus for today is to sit and watch the meeting. Once I do that, I can start to figure out who each person is and how they act.”

“So you aren’t quite good at your job then, huh? Aren’t court advisors supposed to be able to look in a room and have everyone “figured out” right away.” You motion your hands in air quotes as you look back at him with a smirk, and he gives you a wide smile before leaning closer.

“Nope! I’m actually great at my job, but this is just how I do things. Any court advisor can say they know everything about each person in the room when they walk in, but it’s usually a lie unless they’ve already acclimated themselves with the place.”

That makes you lean back, and turn silent as you turn your direction to the suddenly very interesting grooves in the table. You aren’t sure what confused you more, the honest response, or the way he completely ignored your jab like it was nothing. It didn’t feel like you were winning this exchange, but the even stranger part was that it didn’t feel like he was winning either. It was just… small talk.

You didn’t speak to him for the rest of the meeting, and he seemed just fine with that, as his focus was more so on each member who spoke. His eyes darted across each courtier's face, tapping his finger quickly on the table, almost mouthing the words they spoke with each breath he took. He didn’t just focus on their words, he was in them, and you started to realize by the end of the meeting when everyone left and he stayed behind for a few minutes that he wasn’t kidding when he said he was good at his job.

---------

It is three days later that he manages to catch you outside of a courtroom laced with eyes calculating each of your moves, and you aren’t quite sure what to think as you hear him call your name from down the hallway.

“I need to speak with you privately for a moment.” The sentence should fill you with dread, but instead you feel a sick sense of relief curl up inside of your chest. This was the moment you were waiting for after all, the moment just before the fall, and knowing there will be no one there to catch you. You wondered what it would be this time. What you didn’t like was the small feeling of sadness that snuck into your chest as well as the relief.

“Of course.” You don’t turn around, and you assume he understands to follow you as you hear his assured heavy footfalls against the floor continue again after a few seconds of pause.

You feel the door slip through your fingertips as you step inside of the library, and you can hear Bokuto catch the door with his own hand before coming inside as well.

“So.” You swallow. “What is it?” You almost wanted to brace yourself, but you knew that it wouldn’t change a thing in the end. A pain once felt never quite goes away even if you try to forget the sting.

“The Treasurer has been taking the money that is supposed to be going to the servants in the castle.” If you weren’t so shocked, you would have found it humorous how you have felt more taken aback and surprised in these past few days than you have in years, but that didn’t change the furrowing of your brow.

“What?”

“The Treasurer? The man sitting in the seat directly besi-” You shake your head.

“I knew who that is, and it is already well known that he has been taking money. The only problem is th-”

“He struck a deal with the Chancellor. I know that. I also know that the deal fell through and that he is no longer protected.” You look at him, the determined set of his jaw and fire dancing through his eyes and you come to the sudden thought that maybe Bokuto was created to take you off guard.

“How do you know that?”

“I just know. But I need you to back me up if he tries to challenge the claim.”

“Why me?” The question is blurted out quickly. And you can see a small smile tug at the edges of his lips.

“Because you are Akaashi’s friend, and because I trust you.” You bark out a small laugh.

“Why would you trust me? I have avoided you as much as I can and when we have spoken I have been nothing but cold to you.”

“Because your reaction to me coming here was the only genuine one I’ve seen the entire time I have been here so far. Everyone else was all smiles and ‘it’s so nice to meet you!’” His voice grows in pitch as his smile turns wider when he points a finger at you. “But you were the only person who was honest about how they felt when I came here. Even if that honestly was avoiding me like the plague and disliking me.” His grin lowers a bit as he laughs, hand scratching the back of his neck almost involuntary. “And also because if Akaashi likes you then that means I like you.”

You weren’t quite sure how to respond to that. You came in here with a sword at your throat only to discover that it was never there to begin with. A phantom of times past waved away with a simple smile and golden eyes. It made you want to laugh, but you weren’t sure if it was humor or hysteria clogging your windpipe.

His eyes soften at your confusion, and he reaches out, hesitant with his hand as it lands on your shoulder. “You don’t have to trust me yet, and I don’t want you to force yourself to, but maybe we could call this a ‘maybe you don’t hate me’ start?”

You blink away the tears in your eyes as you begin to calm down, and you look up to see him waiting with just the smallest bit of hope on his face, and you think he might be trying to hide it. He’s bad at it. It makes you smile.

“Maybe I don’t hate you, starting now.”

The grin that you are rewarded with dulls the fear that sentence forced you to face.

-------

The Treasurer quickly crumbled when faced with the quick way Bokuto walked in the next day. It was almost comical the switch from the easy-going attitude fades into seriousness as he describes how servants he went to described the slow loss of money throughout the last few months, to the point where some even reported having not even been paid in the last month. Although you stepped in to corroborate his statements, there was no need, as everyone in the council quickly turned against him.

When you later asked Bokuto how he knew while giving him a proper tour of the castle (he mentioned getting lost several times, and the thought of him asking some of the more skittish maids like Yachi for directions has had you smiling for most of the tour) and he all too willing to explain.

“I just had a feeling. He seemed much more cautious at the last two meetings than he was at the first. He was brazen and bold one day, and reserved and hardly speaking the next, almost trying not to draw attention to himself. Almost like….” He tosses a grin your way, "He didn’t have that nice protection anymore.” Hearing him describe it makes it all seem so easy to spot, from his chipper demeanor down to the way he even made it sound. Like child’s play.

“You make it sound so simple, I feel stupid for not seeing it.” He shakes his head quickly, eyes widening as he turns to face you fully.

“You’re definitely not stupid! It’s just… Most courtiers are so busy putting up their own walls and hiding expressions, they fail to see the cracks in others' defenses. Isn’t it easier to see when you don’t have to scale a mountain to get a clear view?” He says it all gently, and you see that he hasn’t just been reading the others in the meetings as he studies.

“Sometimes a mountain hides a dragon.”

His expression softens.

“And sometimes it doesn’t.”

You go to sleep that night feeling conflicted, because you know that he saw your walls from the first day he met you, and you can feel scratch marks of someone trying to get through when your tired hands graze across their surface.

--------

You start to speak to him more often after that day. It makes you feel almost guilty at the way his eyes light up when you stop to wait for him in the hallway, or invite him to sit with you in the library, as if he can’t quite believe it each time.

It becomes more comfortable, more easy, and you find yourself slowly wrapping your own hands around the bricks you layered on top of each other beside his own. Maybe some walls can come down with the right push.

You can feel a small tap against your shoulder, and you look over to glance at Bokuto with a look so laughably upset that it takes a strength you didn’t know you possessed not to laugh.

“Do they really do this at every meeting? I thought you were kidding before.” You spare a glance to the two bickering, Kuroo and Daishou had never been on good terms with each other from the moment they joined the council’s inner circle, and that certainly hasn’t changed with time.

“Sometimes they like to spice it up. They argue before the meeting and just sit glaring at each other for an hour until they leave to go argue alone.” You turn your head back to face the two arguing about something you aren’t even sure you can decipher at this point, hearing the grumbling sigh as Bokuto lays his head on the table.

You lift your hand underneath the table to pat him gently on the knee. “They’ll be done soon, and after that, we can go to either the gardens you like so much, or the library.”

You can see his hair practically rise back up from how quickly his demeanor shifts, eyes crinkling as he smiles at you. “We can go to the library afterwards!” His voice echoes across the chamber, and he quickly ducks his head down from the withering glares he receives in return from the bickering men sitting in their chairs. You suppress a small chuckle at the sheepish look on his face.

You feel like you have gotten a better read on Bokuto from how much time you have spent with him, and despite being fantastic at his job as a royal advisor, a point that he doesn’t hesitate to state often, he is much louder than many of the other courtiers seated around you. Including yourself. You think that if you didn’t know Bokuto you might find it childish, or a show of arrogance, but seeing it now draws a fond smile to your face.

When the meeting adjourned he practically shot out from his seat quickly walking towards the west wing where the library was located. You had to almost sprint behind him in order to catch up, his fast pace paired with much longer legs always made it difficult to keep up with him when he was on a mission.

“Slow down! If I had a coin for every time you have almost left me behind in these hallways I could pay someone to carry me to your destination.” You grumble as he slows down, laughing and extending his hand to you.

“Can that someone be me?” You eye his hand skeptically.

“That depends, how much money are you charging?”

“Oh for many my services are much too expensive, but for you?” His eyes swim with mirth as he motions for you to come closer. “Free of charge.”

------------

“Have you ever heard the story of Achilles?” He tilts his head to the side, balanced on the palm of one hand as he looks at you curiously. You are both sitting in armchairs over by the window overlooking the entrance to the castle, a book in your hands as he sits relaxed in his own seat, content to simply watch you read.

”No. Could you tell me?” You smiled, glad to have someone interested and willing to hear you talk about something you enjoy. No matter how much you adore Akaashi, he has read each book you reached for in the library you’ve raised yourself inside, but now you have a captive audience. And he has never heard the story before.

“Achilles and Patroclus were lovers, and when Patroclus died in battle, Achilles flew into a rage, and killed Hector, one of the great warriors on the Trojan side of the war, desecrated his body, and disrespected the gods.”

“Didn’t he know not to do that?”

“Yes, that was the point.”

“Hm?” His bright eyes flashed in confusion.

“He wanted to die”, you speak softly, whispering words wrapped in pity for a man you’ve known only on ink stained pages. “Because after Patroclus was gone the only thing he wanted to do was be killed so he could be reunited with Patroclus in Elysium.”

Silence seeps in from the corners of the room before you feel a question hang in the air.

“What do you think Elysium looks like?” He asks you with a sincere look stretched across his face, and you take a moment to let the surprise wash over you before thinking about the question.

“A library. A quiet library where anyone can see each other, and talk as loud as they want without disturbing anyone else. A library with all of the knowledge of the world, ready for everyone to read and discuss. Oh! And comfortable chairs.” The last part draws a bubbling laughter from his chest, head now cradled in his crossed arms as he leans forward onto the arm of the chair.

“What do you think it would be like?” He thinks for a bit, nose scrunched as he concentrates in a way that brings a soft smile to your lips. You see golden irises lock onto yours as he finds his answer.

“I think it would be a field. A great, big field that stretched forever, and had every flower, even the ones that bloom in different seasons, all together at once. I think it would be warm, and I think there would be very comfortable chairs.” He grins at you when you laugh, face shining with pride. You nod sagely, about to say you agree to disagree, but another question comes forward once again, albeit more apprehensively.

“Do you think they are happy?”

You almost tell him it’s a myth, that there is almost no chance that those two men truly existed in any world other than fiction, but then you look at him, rays of sun streaming through the window as bright, technicolored beams shine across the side of his face as he looks at you in a way you don’t think anyone has before. Like he really sees you, even without years of time to get there. You don’t know why that grabs a feeling in your chest that you didn’t know was there.

“I think so.”

You think you can smell flowers when you leave the room later that night.

-------

You tried to avoid him after that moment. You were fine letting a wall down in front of him for now, but there is something else that has slipped through the cracks that you did not anticipate. You have read about it from many different perspectives and genres, but you know it always comes with vulnerability. And you aren’t sure that’s a vulnerability you are willing to spare yet.

But it’s hard to avoid him again when he has become such a fixture in your life now. Almost five months have passed and it feels wrong not to hear his laughter in your ear as you walk through the hallways, or have his comfort and quiet curiosity as he asks you questions in the library. Now you have two ghosts in your life, and you aren’t sure you can handle it.

It also hurts when he notices, the resignation in his form palpable as you see him in the seat next to yours, or when he allows you to leave without a word.

You break all too easily when he asks to see you in the gardens that day. He had discovered them a few weeks back, and had dragged you along to explore every inch of them for two days straight, but it was his favorite place in the castle, and it quickly became your second favorite as well. Despite having memorized their sprawling hedges long ago, you can’t help but smile even as you glance at them now, having filled them with memories of turning pages and whispered conversations.

“Why do you keep on avoiding me?” The question punches you across the jaw, not sparing any mercy as he looks at you with hurt streaked across his features.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You can avoid it. Hide away, stack brick onto brick, mortar laid neatly between the layers as you seal yourself away-

“Please.” Well that just isn’t playing fair.

“I apologize if you believed that was my intent,” you’re praying to any god that might hear you that he can’t register the quiver in your voice as you speak,”but I have been very busy lately, and thus I haven’t been able to spend much time with you.”

“We both know that isn’t true.” He pauses, swallowing as he shifts his gaze from you to the hedges forming the maze surrounding you, the maze that just a week ago you had happily walked through with him in tow, familiar footsteps with a familiar smile.

“Did I do something wrong? If I did, then tell me. I can fix it if I did something wrong, but you need to tell me.”

You are astounded again by just how good he is. An innocent push sends you stumbling, and a naïve question has you gasping for air as you look at him desperately.

“No! You’ve done nothing to me, trust me you have done absolutely nothing I just…. I have to have some space for a while, nothing more.” You hate the way your heart flutters as he looks at you concerned, at the way he reaches out to lay a hand on your shoulder. At how it sends you spinning.

“Are you okay? You can speak to me if you need to, you know I will always be here, but if you wish to do this on your own, I will still be here waiting.” He pulls away, and a part of you screams at the loss. He is going to walk away, you will have pushed him away. Isn’t this what you wanted? But why doesn’t it feel good? He is trying to give you the space you say you want and yet the feeling of his hand on your shoulder gives the first glimpse of peace you have had in one week. The feeling makes you weak, and you quickly shut your eyes.

“Our relationship.” He turns around, eyes wide as he looks at you.

“Our what?”

“Our relationship. I like what we have, and I like the way we are with each other but….” You trail off, words caught in your throat as you try to speak, but the courage you gained from the fear that guided you to speak in the first place has dried up before you could finish.

“But what?” He speaks softly as he turns around fully, broad shouldered and spiked hair just like he looked the first time you saw him, only more confused but no less beautiful.

“But…. I can’t say what I’m trying to say,” It draws a frustrated breath from you as you run a hand through your hair exasperatedly. “I-I want to tell you, but I-” You look at him pleadingly, begging him to understand.

He looks at you for a moment, eyes shifting from confusion to focus as he looks at your panicked form, palms sweaty and outstretched as you gesture for him to unlock your voice from the proverbial trap you’ve led it to. There’s a moment of puzzlement. Before understanding.

“You like what we have, but….” He glances at me once more, "You want more.” You cannot breathe, simply staring at him as he looks at you with an expression you wish you could read as he could read you, but it remains an enigma even as he inches closer.

“Would you want that? To be more?”

A desperate part of your heart you’d thought you had smothered successfully in the panic just before dashed to the edges of your chest. Pounding incessantly in reply.

“I don’t know. I’m scared.”

“Well why are you scared?.” This is the moment when you realize that Bokuto is more like Akaashi than you previously thought, simply analytical and thoughtful at precise moments rather than showing that pensive side all of the time. A hidden ace in a deck of cards.

“You’re the one good thing I’ve ever had, and I’m so scared of ruining it.”

“What about Akaashi?”

“He is also goo-”

“You haven’t hurt Akaashi, have you?”

“Well no-”

“Then what makes you think you’ll ever hurt me?” There’s an amused exasperation in his words, an affectionate swirl of yellow dancing through his eyes as he looks at you.

“I don’t know? Fear? That you won’t like the burden of being around me. That it will be too much. Too heavy.” You can feel yourself clam up, and you grasp at threads of your dress. A hand goes to untangle your fingers as he laces them with his. You don’t raise your head, scared that if you look at him you will shatter just as easily as you did as a child with a softer heart.

“Even if it was a burden, that does not mean it isn’t worth carrying. And I will carry anything you are willing to give me. Whether it be your sadness, your happiness, or your heart.”

Fear wraps around your throat as you realize you want to give it to him. A map of jagged edges and sharp scraps, of thorn bushes that prickle your skin and deep into your open ribcage with whispers of doubt and contempt for those around you. You want to show him everything and that is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever come across in this castle.

Your heart is crumpled and small and tired but it is his if he only asks.

And he did ask.

“I will only oblige if you let me carry yours as well.” It’s uttered in one shaky breath you finally released from your throat. Nervous and scared, but with a wisp of hope cradling your words as you finally manage to look up and meet the gaze of the gold eyes you slowly fell in love with. You almost want to laugh at yourself in your foolishness, that you ever thought for a moment they could be fake, when their brilliance outshines even the gaudiest of jewels a noble might showcase.

He laughs breathlessly and squeezes your hand in his own, as one reaches to cup your cheek with a tenderness you don’t think you’ve ever known. “You have held it in your grasp the moment I waved to you behind a dirty windowpane.”

You’re stunned. Drunk on the euphoria of happiness, dazed from the joy of you’ve never felt, and you can feel a shocked laugh bubble through your chest until it bursts out in a flurry of giggles. Your own abandoned hand finds the crinkle next to his eye as he smiles at you. You stand up, throwing yourself at him and trusting him to catch you.

The familiar feeling of arms encircling you as he tugs you ever closer, as if there will always be too much space separating you from each other. You feel the world spin as he twirls you both around, and you feel a dizziness creep up on you, but you don’t think you care when you can feel yourself soar for the first time in your life in a garden of flowers. You remember your conversation in the library as he sets you down and you lift yourself as high as you can as he leans down to catch your words.

“I think you were right. It is filled with flowers.”

---------

There are only three more days until Akaashi comes back, and you can tell it weighs on Bokuto’s mind as he writes letter after letter to him, figuring out a permanent seat for himself, as well as lodgings inside of the castle with the council as he begins to place his roots down carefully in your home. He almost always comes to bed late, hands stained with ink, and shoulders slouched from leaning forward, but always with a smile.

This time you find him in a tucked away corner in the farthest wing from your room, too focused on the scratching of a pen to paper to notice you slip through the door until he feels a hand ghost across his shoulder. He sighs as he looks to face you with a sheepish smile.

“How did you find me?”

“I was tired, and wanted to find you. So I did.”

“Did you even look anywhere else?” The smile that slowly stretches across your face answers his question as he groans and pulls the chair back to truly face you.

"Even in a room full of thousands I could still find you"

“Because I’m tall?” You couldn’t stop the fond smile stretching across your lips even if you tried, and you cup his cheek as he looks at you with nothing but adoration swimming in an iridescent gold.

“Because you’re you,” you laugh softly, and you watch his face light up, as though all he ever wants is to hear you laugh, “And I will never find anyone as wonderfully brilliant as you.”

“And you’d be able to find me?”

“Always.”

He laughs giddily as he tugs you closer, practically laying on top of each other in the chair you squeezed yourselves in. It has never felt more comfortable.

“Please, let’s go to bed.” He sighs as he melts at your words, already beginning to stand, but not without taking you with him with a laugh at your noise of surprise.

--------

You’re filled with a sick sense of anticipation as you retire to your bed for the night, already dreading the smile that will spread across Akaashi’s face when he sees Bokuto’s hand clasped tightly in yours (a habit you would not even begin to think of admonishing him for), and the amount of paperwork you will have to endure for weeks.

But then you feel two arms encircle your waist, and suddenly the punishment seems like a small, trivial thing when compared to what you have gained from losing. A friend, someone who you care for and who will care for you, and trust even in a sea of doubt.

The thought makes you smile as you drift to sleep. Maybe some wagers are worth losing.

[myherowritings]

Maybe It’s Fate

— After discovering the mememate you fell in love with was your ex-boyfriend who broke your heart, you find yourself alone in a bar with a dead phone in a poor attempt to cope. The person who helps you at 3 a.m. is the last person you want to see.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader word count: 10,531 genre: modern au, social media au

a/n: hihi welcome to part 25 of toya ! ;) the smau is rated 17+ so keep that in mind because it applies to this part too. it’s a bit thicc so i hope it’s able to keep your attention! skksffsd plspls chat with me and let me know what u think once u read! i’m looking forward to the convos ^-^ [edit: THIS IS NOT THE FINAL PART LOLOL]

Of all the dumb decisions you’ve made in your life, this by far had to be the dumbest of them all.

You were angry and hurt and wanted nothing more than to drown your feelings with overplayed EDM music and cheap booze that reminded you too much of the trash college parties you used to frequent. And while going out to get drunk was no where near your stupidest decision, going out alone with the full intention of returning home with someone else was. 

“Is everything okay?” you heard an unfamiliar voice beside you call.

Wishing you had brought more than an empty can of pepper spray, you cautiously turned to face him. You wanted to call a cab or take the train home, but you knew walking alone in the streets in your current condition might just be more stupid than staying at the club. Besides, your phone died right after you sent Kaminari your location. 

In other words-- You were truly fucked.

Not that you would let anyone know that, of course.

“Everything’s just fine,” you replied, trying to sound polite but disinterested. “Thanks.” 

He kept his distance but sat down at the barstool next to you. “Are you sure? You’re a pretty lady alone at the bar and you’re staring at your drink like it just insulted your favorite grandmother.” 

Immediately, the tears of stress and frustration flooded your eyes but you kept them from falling. Your bottom lip quivered and you blamed all the alcohol in your system for your seemingly uncontrollable emotions.

 “Am I that transparent?” You sniffled, downing the rest of your drink as you turned towards him.

“Ah-- Wait!” he cried with wide eyes, waving his hands in front of him as you chugged what was in your glass. “Are you sure you should keep drinking? Where are your friends?”

You studied him curiously. He seemed nice and trustworthy, but you couldn’t help but be skeptical of his intentions.

“They’re...around,” you answered, unwilling to admit you were here alone to a random stranger. “And I’m okay! Just here hating men, but what’s new?” 

He nodded solemnly. “Understandable. Men suck. Carry on.”

That earned a grin from you.

As the last gulp of vodka settled in your stomach and made its way to your head, you instinctively checked your phone in your pocket only to find it still dead. 

Damn. And here you were hoping it would’ve miraculously charged through sheer willpower. 

Drumming your fingertips against the empty glass, you let your gaze roam around the perimeter of the nightclub, blinking furiously in confusion when you thought you had spotted a head of all-too-familiar purple hair near the entrance.

“What the…” you trailed off. You could have sworn you just saw Shinsou, but the next second you opened your eyes, he was gone.

Great, you thought to yourself miserably. First he snuck his way into your heart and now you were imagining his presence too? 

“You’re really had too much to drink, haven’t you, Y/N?” you chided yourself, head spinning as you instantly regretted the last few gulps.

The guy next to you glanced over in concern, drinking a glass of what you assumed to be respect women juice. 

“Can I order you some water?” he fretted. “Or maybe a cab?” 

You shook your head to decline but stopped abruptly when your temples started to throb at the sudden motion. 

“S’okay,” you slurred. “I just thought I saw--” 

“Y/N!” 

You froze in your seat.

That voice… It was faint and almost like it wasn’t real, but you knew that voice. 

There was no way. 

“Good grief, I’m losing it now, huh?” you asked your bar acquaintance with furrowed brows. 

He shrugged, not knowing how to reply.

“Y/N, thank god,” the voice said frantically, sounding closer this time. “You’re safe!”

Ever so slowly, you turned around in your seat, eyes squeezed shut.

Even hearing his voice amidst the blaring of music was enough to make your heart twist in pain. It was the same deep timbre you remembered from high school and you haven’t heard it since then. You hated just how much you had missed the familiar sound. It was like a hug of comfort telling you everything was okay and a stab in the gut all at once.

“Y/N,” he said again, almost a whisper this time.

You finally found the courage to open your eyes, but refused to meet his gaze. Instead, you developed a deep interest in the laces of his shoes, reluctant to look up. 

“Shinsou…” The name left a bitter taste on your tongue and you wished you had another drink to wash it down with. Your voice hardened. “What are you doing here?” 

He winced at your harsh tone but stood unrelenting. “Your friends are worried sick about you. Kaminari was so concerned he even messaged me-- Something I imagine he never wanted to do.”

Your lower lip jutted out in guilt as your stare stayed set on the intricacies of the tiled flooring. 

“Why have you not checked your phone?” asked Shinsou in exasperation. “Kaminari was trying to tell you I was going to pick you up.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “My phone died after I sent Denki my location.”

“Died? Did you not charge it before you left? Y/N how could you be so irresponsible--!” 

“Is everything okay here?” your unnamed acquaintance said from his seat on the bar. He glanced carefully between you and Hitoshi. 

You nodded, sparing him a wry smile. “I’m fine. Thank you, though.” 

Shinsou bit the inside of his cheek as he eyed the stranger who sat next to you. “Who’s this?” 

“None of your damn business.” 

Annoyed by Shinsou’s chiding, you bristled when he frowned at you. He had no right to sound concerned or jealous-- No right to pretend he cared!

Not when he did what he did.

“I know I was being stupid and I’ll call my friends when I get home,” you said, not bothering to hide your irritation. “But you can’t just come here and talk to me like everything is normal! Why are you even here?” 

Pushing yourself out of your chair, you stood up and finally looked Hitoshi in the eye, glaring at him. You wobbled on your own two feet and felt the goosebumps on your bare thighs and arms, briefly wishing you had brought a coat with you.

Great, another thing Toshi can call you irresponsible for, you thought crossly, a mixture of hurt and anger in your face as you stared up at him. 

“Why are you here?” you repeated as you paced away from the bar--turning back only to give your bar friend a wave goodbye that he returned with a confused look. You headed for the exist of the nightclub as briskly as your legs could carry you in your uncomfortable heels. “How did you know where to find me?” 

Shinsou trailed not too far behind you and you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that you felt a warmth near your back from his presence. “Kaminari told me you were alone at a nightclub and this one happened to be only ten minutes from my house.”

You pouted. Small fucking world. Fate must’ve been getting a kick out of this.

“Your friends were worried-- So was I.” You rolled your eyes, but he continued. “And since I was the closest to this place I offered to pick you up.”

Reaching the side doors, you stopped by the stone wall of the building and squinted at him. “You offered and they just let you?”

That did not sound like the friends you knew. You were expecting a full Shinsou beat down from Bakugou alone. 

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck and, in your tipsy stupor, you felt comforted by the familiar habit of his. You swallowed, balling your hands into fists to snap your mind out of it.

It shouldn’t matter how many memories of the past were flooding you-- You were mad at him for lying and you had every right to be.

“Maybe offered is too loose of a word,” he admitted after a moment’s silence, having the decency to appear sheepish. “But we were worried and I knew I could get to you in half the time any of your friends could.”

Sure, it was a logical reason. But that didn’t mean you had to like it. “I would rather have waited double the time if that meant I didn’t have to see you again.” 

You stared Hitoshi straight in the eyes as you said that as you tried to ignore the trembling of your lower lip. He flinched at the words, looking hurt. But another part of him looked like he accepted it. 

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now--”

“Mhmm,” you hummed just to be petty.

“--but we had no way of knowing if you were safe. Especially when you stopped replying to anyone! This was the quickest way.” 

Folding your arms across your chest you stubbornly held his gaze. “Well, I’m safe. So you can leave now.” 

Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Please. I know you hate me and you have every right to--”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered under your breath. As much as you wish you did, you don’t think you could ever really hate him.

He blinked slowly and you could have sworn you saw a shimmer of hope in his expression. You tore your gaze away, studying the small fissures and cracks on the otherwise smooth pavement. 

“Oh,” he breathed almost imperceptibly. “Thank you.” 

You pretended not to hear him.

“Regardless of whether you hate me or not, I know you don’t want to see me--and I apologize for showing up so suddenly--but will you please let me bring you home safely?” Hitoshi pleaded. “Or to your friend’s house if you don’t want to be alone.”

With your lips squeezed shut, you rubbed the goosebumps off your upper arm. It was cold and your head was spinning and you had no clue what to say to him. 

Silently, Shinsou took off his outer coat and gently draped it over your shoulders, fastening the top button near the collar so it wouldn’t fall off your frame. You looked at him in surprise, unshed tears stinging the back of your eyes as you recalled all the times he’d given you his jacket while you were dating.

There were more times that you cared to admit where you conveniently “forgot” your jacket or wore too little layers on a cold day just so Hitoshi could give you his and you’d be enveloped in his scent.

And that’s exactly what was happening now. Shinsou’s coat surrounded your body like a warm hug and your nose was filled with a scent exactly like the one you remembered from when you were dating. He smelled like a sweet sandalwood with a mixture of fresh jasmine. He smelled like a field of flowers you’d find after a long trek through a woodsy forest. He smelled like home.

But he wasn’t.

In actuality, you haven’t been this close to Shinsou since your break up.

It had been years since you had seen him or talked to him or even been close enough to catch a trace of his scent. And now he was flooding every one of your senses with no care of the repercussions.

Your head was light.

You missed him. You cared for him. You never stopped loving him.

And now old wounds that never fully healed had been ripped open all at once.

“You were shivering,” Hitoshi stated quietly. “So I gave you my--”

He stopped short when he heard a sniffle coming from your direction, eyes growing wide as your buried your face in the palms of your shaking hands.

Through the cracks between your fingers, you saw Shinsou reach out to cup your face, stopping himself before he could touch you and withdrawing as if he had been burned. As stupid as it was, you wanted nothing more than to feel his touch against your skin and you found yourself involuntarily taking a half-step closer to him.

Your silent tears feel even faster. 

“Are you crying?”

Despite the droplets of water blurring your eyes, you managed to glare up at him for his dumb question. 

He grimaced. “Sorry. I’m...sorry.” 

Although you were the one crying, you still noticed the pained look on Shinsou’s face. He seemed just as conflicted as you were, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands so hard his knuckles appeared white. 

When he opened his mouth to speak his voice sounded choked, but still gentle. “Are you okay, Y/N?” 

“Just peachy,” you murmured, barely moving your lips. The two of you stood there in awkward silence, nothing but the sounds of your labored breaths filling the air until you blurted, “Actually, you know what--? No. I’m not!”

Shinsou opened his mouth to speak but no noise came out. That was just fine by you, though. You had plenty of things you wanted to say, regardless of his response.

“I’m angry at you! And confused. And sad. And hurt! I don’t know if I want to yell at you or ignore you or run right back into your arms--” Your voice cracked and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to slow your sharp breathing. 

You hugged yourself around your waist, painfully aware of how comforting his jacket felt around your body. A part of you wished you could just tear the coat off your shoulders, throw it onto a puddle on the floor, give Shinsou the middle finger, and turn away without looking back.

But you couldn’t. 

Instead, you let your tears continue to fall as you glowered at Hitoshi’s shoes. 

“I am so mad at you,” you managed, hands clutching the fabric at your sides. “You lied to me, Hitoshi. You lied to me and you didn’t trust me and you left!” 

The hurt from your past which you never wanted to accept mixed with anger from the present, both fueling your surge in emotions.

“And now you’re here--in front of me--acting like everything is okay?!” you shouted in exasperation. Your face was burning despite the chilling breeze outside. “Do you even care about me? Have you ever even cared about me?” 

He gritted his teeth, hurt that you would even ask that. “Of course. Of course I care about you, Y/N! Even through all these years I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

“Funny way of showing it.” 

His laugh was humorless. “I’m a fuck up. I know.” 

Your gaze softened just the slightest bit. “Hey-- I didn’t say that.” 

Shinsou shrugged. “Regardless, I did fuck up with you. And I’m so sorry for that.” 

“For which time?” By now, the tears flowing out of your eyes slowed, the remnants dried by the biting wind. You gave him a wry smile, unamused. 

“Both times,” he answered without hesitation. “I hurt you when I broke up with you for no damn reason and I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. That was the biggest lie of my life-- I still loved you. So much. But I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give you the change to explain. I owe you so much more than an apology but it’s the least I can give you right now.” 

You rolled your lower lip between your teeth, hating yourself for wanting to accept his apology and jump into his arms. He gave no excuses for what he did and his words were genuine. That much you knew for certain.

Slowly, he inched towards you. 

“I really am sorry, Y/N.” He paused. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

You stayed silent, holding your breath as the pad of his thumb brushed against your damp cheek. Shinsou wiped away your flood of tears with a touch so gentle, it felt like a feather on your face.

His thumb lingered on your cheekbone, his fingertips lightly grazing your jaw, and you found yourself ever so slightly leaning into his palm. The tension in your muscles loosened and if you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were back with the Shinsou you loved in high school-- As if he never left and nothing had ever changed. 

Just for a moment, you tricked yourself into being truly happy. You tricked yourself into thinking that maybe you and Hitoshi could still be in love. 

You wanted to capture this second and replay it on an infinite loop, but just like all moments, this too had to come to an end. 

As you opened your eyes, Hitoshi reluctantly brought his hand back to his side.

“Sorry,” he said, voice hoarse. “You were crying and I just wanted to--” He shook his head, cutting himself off before his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” 

It sounded like his apology was meant for more than just wiping some tears off your face. 

You nodded almost imperceptibly, the anger in your gaze diffused by hurt and longing. “I know.”

As the minutes passed, neither one of you made a move to step away from the other-- Your bodies mere inches apart and so close, yet never quite touching.

Suddenly, Hitoshi cleared his throat.

“Er-- If you’ll let me, I think I should bring you home now,” he said, forcibly shaking himself out of his daze and pulling his phone out. “It’s almost four in the morning.” 

Blinking, you rubbed your eyes. Not that he mentioned the time, you realized just how tired you were. You wanted to take a bubble bath, change into fluffy pajamas, and sleep until the following night. 

“Do you have to go to your flower shop tomorrow?”  

“Hmm?” You were startled. You had almost forgotten that the man in front of you was the same person you considered your “mememate.” As much as you hated to admit it, he probably knew more about you than some of your closest friends. 

Biting your lip, you snapped yourself out of it.

“Oh-- Right. My flower shop.” 

He nodded.

“No, I don’t have work tomorrow,” you answered finally. “I may not have made the smartest decisions tonight, but I’m not that irresponsible.” 

A shadow of a smile graced his face. “Of course not.” 

Fishing his keys from his pocket, Shinsou walked to the parking lot of the nightclub, looking over his shoulder to check if you were following.

When his gaze met yours you immediately stuck your tongue out at him haughtily so he knew you were only following him as a last resort and you needed to get home-- Not because you wanted to. 

You caught a glimpse of his grin before he turned around, and you managed to stop yourself before one spread to your lips as well. 

Stopping at a black car with tinted windows, Hitoshi unlocked it with his keys, opening the door of the passenger seat and waiting for you to safely enter. 

“I can open a door myself,” you murmured, sliding into the seat securely before he gently shut it close. 

“I know,” you heard his amused voice call through the window.

It felt like there was one, singular butterfly fluttering around in your stomach and causing mayhem, and you batted it away before Hitoshi could come in and see the grin on your face. 

“Did I just see you just hit yourself in the gut?” he asked when he entered through the driver’s side. 

“No.” 

“Okay.”

Subtly, you rubbed your tummy in a soft, circular motion. You hadn’t meant to punch the butterfly that hard. 

“Didn’t hit yourself, huh?” 

You flushed. “Oh, hush.” 

With a snort, Hitoshi turned the engine of his car on and you let your eyes explore the interior. It was sleek and clean, smelling like a mixture of sandalwood and new car. 

Reaching behind the gear level, he pulled out a white cord and handed it to you. You stared at the object in his hands.

“For you,” he said, with a raised brow. “You should charge your phone and let your friends know you’re on your way home.” 

Wordlessly, you accepted it from him. Careful not to let your fingers brush against his in fear of the spark it might cause.

“I messaged Kaminari earlier to let him know you were safe. But he probably wants to hear it from you.”

You nodded as you plugged your dead phone in. “Thanks.” 

He hummed, putting the car on drive and backing out of the parking spot, stopping before he reached the main street. 

“Do you know how to get home from here?” he asked. As you shook your head, Hitoshi handed you his fully charged phone that was opened on the navigation app. “You can search for your address.”

“Got it.” The air between you was almost suffocatingly awkward as you typed in where you lived, each click of the keyboard ringing into the stillness of the night. After finding turning the directions on, you handed the phone back to him. “Thanks.”

Shaking his head, he waved you off. “You don’t need to keep thanking me, Y/N. This is the least I could do.”

Averting your gaze, you twiddled your thumbs in your lap, unsure what to say. You had so much you wanted to tell him--so much you wanted to ask--but when it came to it, you froze. 

Just then, your phone made a sound from its spot near the gear shift, buzzing and lighting up as it finally turned on. A plethora of notifications filled your screen and you found yourself feeling guilty for making your friends worry like that.

Five missed calls for Kaminari, three missed calls from Todoroki, and nine missed calls from Bakugou. You gulped. You were definitely going to get your ears talked off by those three once they got a hold of you. 

But amidst the calls and texts of worry from your friends, you also noticed a handful of messages from Hitoshi. He sent you texts asking if you were okay and telling you not to worry because he was on his way to get you. There was a lump in your throat when he saw the messages were still from your mememate-- You never did get around to changing his contact name.

From the corner of your eye you saw Hitoshi glancing down at your phone screen, a look of regret apparent on his face. When he caught you staring, he directed his attention back on the road, clearing his throat as he followed the directions on the navigation system.

To think only a week ago, things were so different between the two of you. 

You thought he was a random stranger you connected with through the power of memes, never having a clue that he was your ex this whole time. You found yourself opening up and sharing your private feelings with him despite the promise you made yourself to always guard your heart. 

Even anonymously, Hitoshi climbed over your walls and found his way to the inner workings of your life. Even anonymously, he made everything feel like it was okay. 

But a part of you was scared--so scared--that it was all in your head and he was only playing you this whole time. And at this point, you were just too afraid to ask.

“Are you crying again?”

“What?!” you yelped in alarm, wiping at your slightly damp face with the sleeves of his coat. “No, you asshole!” You glared at him, a few loose tears still gathered by the corners of your eyes. You refused to let them fall through the use of sheer willpower. “The air conditioning is just blasting into my eyes.”

“The air conditioner is off.”

You blinked. “Well that makes sense. It’s so hot in here I’m just sweating through my eyes.” 

He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Right.”

The lighthearted mood didn’t last very long, however, when your phone buzzed once more and the notifications from earlier tonight appeared on your lockscreen. 

“I really made everyone worry, huh?” You sighed, leaning back against the headrest and shutting your eyes, the effects of the alcohol long since worn off. “I can’t believe I did something like this.” 

He signaled a left turn and waited until he was at the red light before continuing. “I’m sorry for causing this.” 

You stared at him in confusion. “What do you mean? Causing this?”

“Yeah. If I had just told you who I was the moment I found out, this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have been scared and alone at a random nightclub and your friends wouldn’t have been in near panic for hours. Hell-- If I hadn’t run away like that all those years ago none of this would have happened.” His fingers tightened around the steering wheel so hard it left indents on the leather. “You wouldn’t have felt all the pain and heartbreak and--”

His voice grew hoarse as it broke off, as if something was tightening around his throat. Holding your breath, you gazed at him in concern.

You were angry at Hitoshi and thought he had a lot of explaining to do-- Sure. But...for him to blame himself for everything that happened? That was more weight than anyone should bear on their own. 

Surprising both him and yourself, you firmly placed your hand on top of his as he gripped the steering wheel. His hands were cold and rough from the wind, and you were certain yours weren’t much better. But still, you held him. And still, it felt right. 

“Not everything is your fault, Toshi,” you said quietly, his old nickname slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it, like it was natural for you to call him that.

His eyes widened and a flush filled your cheeks. 

You coughed to relieve the tension in your neck. “I just mean… You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. You messed up and there’s no denying that, but this isn’t all your fault. I mean it.” 

Your eyes met before he tore his gaze away to focus on driving. Quickly, you retracted your hand from on top of Shinsou’s, cradling it against your stomach as you felt the burn from his skin linger on yours.

“Thank you.” His voice was solemn and grateful, as if he needed to hear those words at least once in his life. “You’re too caring, you know? Your heart is too good.” 

You let out a breath of laughter, brushing his compliment off. “Yours is too. It’s just been through some shit. And maybe didn’t make the best decisions.”

“It most definitely didn’t.”

Though neither of you were looking at each other, there was a shared sense of happiness between the two of you--regardless of how brief it may have been. There was a small smile playing on your face as you bit your lip to keep it from growing wider. 

You hadn’t fully forgiven Hitoshi, he still had some explaining to do, but you felt a sense of calmness when you realized that maybe forgiveness would be possible.

Before you knew it, you heard the navigator say, “Your destination is on the right,” as Hitoshi pulled up at the curb in front of your building.

“We’re here,” he announced slowly, one hand on the gear level as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. 

There was an awkward silence as you unplugged your phone from his car charger. It wasn’t that you wanted to spend more time with him exactly (that was definitely not the case), but rather you had more questions to ask. And what better time to figure out those questions than at four in the morning? 

“You’ve been driving for a while…” you trailed off, hoping he caught the hint without too much embarrassment on your part. “Do you want to use the restroom before you drive back home?”

Hitoshi scratched the back of his neck. “No, I’m good. I wasn’t out for that long.”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, a sudden feeling of nerves settling in your stomach. Not those damned butterflies again. “Well, how about… Maybe you want a glass of water or a cup of tea?” 

He gave you a curious look but set his car to park and turned off the engine nonetheless. “Sure…? Some water would be nice.”

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding, pulling your keys out of your pocket and unbuckling your seatbelt. Before you could open the car door for yourself, Hitoshi was already on the passenger’s side ready to open it for you. 

“I know how to open a door,” you muttered with a roll of your eye, but felt a faint flush litter your cheeks nonetheless. You hopped out of your seat, accepting the hand he offered to stead you. “But...thank you.” 

“No worries.” 

For someone you were still mad at, he was making it damn hard for you to stay petty. 

Despite the light throbbing in your head, both from drinking too much alcohol and from staying up too late, you were able to lead him inside your living room with no complications--only struggling with unlocking the door just a little. 

“Welcome to my house,” you said, flapping your arms around and fidgeting in place. You slid off your shoes and placed them at the doorway and Hitoshi followed suit. “You can, uh, sit on the couch while I get you water. Or you can follow me into the kitchen…?”

Your eyes scanned the floors and furniture of your apartment. You liked maintaining your living space clean and clutter-free, so it wasn’t too much of a mess. Still, you weren’t expecting any guests and it wasn’t as nice as it could have been…

You shook your head, giving your face a light slap when you thought no one was looking. You shouldn’t be bothered. It was just Hitoshi here. Someone you most definitely no longer cared about. 

Or so you kept telling yourself.

He followed behind you, grabbing at his neck and glancing between your walls and you, unsure what to look at in this new environment. After all, it wasn’t everyday you picked up your ex that you haven’t seen for four years at a bar only to be invited into their house.

“I can go with you to the kitchen,” he answered with uncertainty.

“G-Great!” 

You grimaced. When did you become Tony the Tiger all of a sudden? 

As you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, you filled them up with ice and water, setting one next to Shinsou on the countertop. 

He accepted it. “Thank you.” 

You nodded and there was an awkward silence, both of you taking long sips from your glass, not knowing where to go from here. You knew you wanted to talk to him, but what were you going to ask exactly? What was the right way to go about this situation?

Next to you, Hitoshi looked like he was having some inner struggles of his own. His fingers flexed and unflexed around the cool glass, both avoiding your gaze and looking at you at the same time.

Biting your lip, you turned to look at him. As uncomfortable as it was, there was no better time to ask than now.

“Can we talk--?”

“We should talk--”

You both started and stopped at the same time.

There was a beat of elongated silence before the two of you laughed. Shaking your head, you buried your face in your hands, peering at him between your fingers. 

“This is silly,” you cried in embarrassment. “Why are we so awkward?” 

Hitoshi shrugged as a flustered laugh escaped his own lips. “Because this is weird. This is a strange situation we’re in and no one would ever expect something like this to happen.”

“Exactly!” 

“But,” he continued, almost hesitantly, “I’m kind of glad it did, though.” 

Your own laughter quieted down as the mood became more serious. You drank another gulp of water to quench your suddenly parched throat. 

“Can we talk in the living room?” you asked, heading towards the hallway when Hitoshi nodded. You figured if you were going to have an uncomfortable conversation, you may as well try to find some comfort in your warm and plush sofa.

You sat down at the edge near the armrest and he took a seat not too far from you. There was less than a cushion space separating the two of you and if you were to move a few inches, your thighs would be touching. 

Tearing your gaze away from your legs, you looked up to face Hitoshi. “You don’t have to answer, but… There have been some questions on my mind lately.” 

He nodded, as if expecting you to say that. “Ask away. It’s the least I could do.”

You curled your legs and hugged your knees to your chest, peering at him through your lashes. 

“Okay,” you said somewhat unsurely. Confrontation was never easy. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew who I was? How long were you planning on keeping it from me?”

Hitoshi ran a hand through his hair, tufts of purple sticking out in random patterns. Somehow, it suited him.

“I found out a day or so before you confessed to liking...your mememate,” he admitted. He had told you this through text when you asked, but hearing it a second time didn’t make it hurt any less. “I was going to tell you that day, too. But then you told me you liked me and I didn’t know how to break it to you then.”

You looked away, embarrassed at the reminder of the night you poured your heart out to him. He knew you were his ex the whole time and still didn’t stop you? You scoffed, “Well, you could’ve stopped me before I humiliated myself like that.”

“Humiliate-- How?”

“What do you mean how?” You glared. “I totally embarrassed myself that night by saying how much I liked you--my ex!--only to have you basically reject me on the spot!” 

“I didn’t reject you.”

“I told you that you were the first person I liked since...well you,” you said, rubbing your temples to ease your own confusion. “And you never said it back. Not that you needed to. It’s totally fine that you don’t. It’s just that… I don’t even know. I just wish I never said anything.”

He placed the glass he was holding onto a coaster on your coffee table, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” said Hitoshi. “But that’s not it at all. I wasn’t trying to reject you. I would’ve told you I liked you back-- I wanted to, I swear.” 

Your head snapped to his. He wanted to tell you? As in he started liking you too? Even when he didn’t know who you were?

With a wistful smile, he continued, “But it wasn’t fair to you. Not when I knew who you were and you didn’t know who I was. You didn’t deserve that bullshit.” 

You stretched your legs out so they were dangling off the couch, folding one carefully over the other as you crossed your arms. “Then you should’ve just told me the truth about who you were.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He hung his head. “And if I did, you never would’ve told me your feelings.”

“Exactly,” you huffed. “They’d be safe and locked away in my heart until they disappeared.” 

He was silent as you turned his body towards yours, resting his arm on the back cushions of the sofa.

“Is that really what you want, though?” he asked. “You’re so kind and beautiful and you deserve to open your heart to someone and be happy with them.” A flush rose to your cheeks at his sudden words of kindness but you shook it away. “I never knew I hurt you so badly that you were scared to love again-- And I’ll hate myself everyday for that.” 

“Hitoshi…” Your gaze softened. You wanted to reach out and smooth down his hair but you couldn’t. 

He hurt you, yes. But to hate himself and never forgive himself for it? You thought that was far too extreme. 

“When you broke up with me,” you started slowly, unsure how to go about this, “you said that our relationship was nothing more than some cheap dates and sex.” He winced, holding his stomach as if he felt nauseous. “If you’re so regretful now, why did you ever say something like that? Did I really mean nothing to you?” 

“No-- Of course you meant something to me. Y/N, you were everything to me. And it’s ridiculous of me to say this now but I never wanted to hurt you like that,” Hitoshi said, his eyes squeezed shut. “But I did and I’m so sorry. I thought if I told you those mean things you would find it easier to just hate me and move on. Be with Kaminari or someone who could make you happy.” 

You glared at him with both sadness and anger, nails digging into your palms. “I was happy. With you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little.”

Taken aback, you stared at him. You weren’t sure what response you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. 

“But not because of anything you did,” he rushed before you could get the wrong idea. “I just thought you were a good person who truly deserved something better than what I could give. You should be with someone who wasn’t anxious and insecure and messed up.” 

You were unsure if you wanted to smack Hitoshi or give him a hug, so you sat there stock-still.

“Even when I saw you with Kaminari, a part of me thought it would be better off that way,” he admitted, a scornful look on his face as he scoffed at himself. “But that wasn’t my call to make, was it? And how I went about it was wrong and dishonest. I’m really sorry.” 

He tugged at a loose thread on the sofa while staring at you in earnest. There were so many things to say and not enough time in the night to say it. 

“You’re right. It wasn’t your call,” you said, furrowing your brows. “I wish you would’ve told me you were feeling this way all those years ago. I loved you--regardless of what you may have thought. And what you said really hurt me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I fucked up and hurt you more deeply than I could’ve ever imagined. You felt like you couldn’t have feelings for anyone for all those years because of what I did, and if I could take it all back, I would.” 

His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to cup your face, pulling away harshly before he could touch you. 

“You deserve to find love, Y/N. Even if it’s not with me because I know I have no right to anyone’s heart after what I did--”

“Hey, don’t say that!” you interrupted, a wrinkle forming as you scrunched up your nose. You frowned at him. “You deserve to find love again, too. You may have messed up a few times, and I’m not going to pretend like I wasn’t hurt, but I still care about you. A lot. And just because you made some really bad decisions doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to ever be happy.” 

He looked down at his lap, hands curled into fists by his side. You had the sinking suspicion he didn’t believe you.

Swallowing your pride, you inched closer to him, lightly lifting his chin so he stared at you face-to-face. The dark purple of his eyes stormed as a conflicted expression overcame him and you wanted to run a finger over his brow and brush the insecurities away.

Quietly, you whispered, “You’re so worthy of love, Hitoshi. And it makes me so sad that you still haven’t realized it.” 

You felt a piece of your heart chip as he pulled away from you, gritting his teeth as he hung his head. When he spoke, his voice sounded choked, as if he was holding back tears.

“You’ve shown me too much kindness,” he said, words shakey. “Even after I assumed you cheated and broke up with you in the cruelest way possible--” 

His voice cracked and he couldn’t speak. With his gaze avoiding yours he pushed himself off the couch.

“God, I’m sorry,” Hitoshi muttered, his face a look of self-disdain. “I shouldn’t even be here in your life right now. I should just--”

Your hand grabbed the one he used to shove himself off your sofa, holding his fingers tight in between yours. With your head bowed, you called, “Don’t leave again. Not yet.”

He froze in his spot, one leg immobile in front of the other in the direction of the door. Desperately, you tugged at his arm so he looked back at you. Your eyes pleaded with him. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be the end until you received your closure and Hitoshi received his. 

“You know that night we played Truth or Drink?” you asked, breaking the silence. 

He stared back at you curiously, slowly sitting down as you patted the seat next to you. Cautiously, he nodded in response.

That night was a pivotal time in bonding with your mememate and it was the closest you had felt with anyone besides your best friends.

Continuing, you said, “You told me about your dad cheating on your mom. And then seeing me and Denki the next day after I lied about who I was with.” 

There was no accusatory tone in your voice, and you stated it as if you were recalling the facts. But still, Hitoshi winced. 

“Yeah, shit.” He placed his palm over his forehead, rubbing at his temple as he grimaced. “I really just jumped to conclusions like that and it was unfair to you. I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t reply to his apology, but gave him a small smile. “That night, I told you I thought your response was understandable. It made sense that you were mistrustful at the time. Especially after just finding out about your parents-- People I know you looked up to. Even in regards to love.” 

Hitoshi wore a guarded expression, but still listened keenly to what you had to say. 

“Toshi… My opinion on that doesn’t change just because I now know it was me you were talking about.” 

“Y/N--”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you clarified, not wanting to sound too lenient. “I’m still hurt that you couldn’t trust me. I wish you confronted me so we could’ve cleared up the misunderstanding. I wish you hadn’t stood me up on our anniversary date. But most importantly… I wish I could have been there for you when you found out about your parents.” 

Hitoshi sat there in silence, mouth opening but unable to form the sentences he wanted. 

You gave him a look of regret, one hand still not letting go of his even as he stayed seated beside you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

“It’s not your fault. At all.”

As you shook your head, he faltered. “Still, you went to America, alone, and never told anyone what was wrong. You kept all these feelings to yourself this whole time and I hate that so much.” 

“I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. I don’t deserve to--”

Your fingers twitched. How many times was he going to beat himself while he was already down? 

“Stop saying that!” you snapped, unable to contain your emotions. “You are not a burden. And you deserve so much more than you think you do.” 

His eyes widened at your outburst and his lips parted slightly. 

“It’s good you know what you did was wrong-- You can’t pretend lying and making assumptions was okay because it’s not. But you know it’s not! And you acknowledge that and it seems like you regret it.” Your voice took on a desperate tone as you tried to get Hitoshi to see his mistakes as something separate from his worth as a whole. “You’ve made mistakes, but you can grow from them. Fucking up doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love and happiness. You don’t have to take all the blame onto yourself.” 

“How can I not take the blame?” he asked, his frustration at himself matching yours. “If I had been a better boyfriend, I would have trusted you more. If I had been a better person, I wouldn’t have lied to you. And maybe if I had been a better son, my parents--”

As if your body had a mind of its own, you threw your arms around him in a hug before he could finish his sentence. You heard a sharp inhale come from him as he sat, rigid.

“Don’t,” you whispered, breathing harshly as you held him tight. “Please, Toshi. Don’t say that. If no one ever told you this, please listen to me then. It’s not your fault. Your parents divorcing has nothing to do with your worth. Don’t blame yourself for the issues they had.” 

His shoulders were still tense despite the shudder of tears you felt.

“You don’t need to blame yourself for everything. Hold yourself accountable, yes. Always strive to be a better person, yes. But don’t think it’s all your fault,” you pleaded. “You don’t have to handle everything on your own. You can lean on someone, Toshi.” You gently stroked the hair on the back of his head. “You can lean on me.” 

At your words, you felt him visibly relax, his body free of the tension as you held him close. 

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around you as he returned your embrace, his strong hands firmly gripping your waist as if he never wanted to let you go. You found yourself loosening up at his touch and you placed your head in his chest. 

Peering up at him through your lashes, you said, “I don’t know if you need to hear this, but I need to say it.” 

His thumb stroked the length of your spine as you continued. 

“I forgive you, Hitoshi. For everything.” He stopped moving as he looked at you in surprise. You simply smiled at him. “Your apologies were genuine and so is your regret. I know you’re a good person and I forgive you, so please stop blaming yourself now.” 

“Thank you, Y/N. So much.” He pulled away ever so slightly, feelings of guilt still flooding him. “But I feel like I still don’t deserve it though--”

A noise of protest bubbled up at your throat. “I swear to god, if I hear the d-word come out of your mouth again, I’ll make you shut up.” After a moment’s pause, you tried to hide your laughter. “Heh. D-word.”

“Oh my god,” he said, his amusement escaping him. With his arms still around your waist, he challenged, “How would you make me shut up?”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

Hitoshi laughed a genuine laugh that you haven’t heard in years. The deep rumble had a smile of your own forming on your lips. 

But the mood turned serious when you gazed into his eyes again.

“Really, though…” you said, squeezing the fabric at his sides. “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way for so long without telling anyone. I hope you know you can always talk to me.” 

He tilted his head back, staring at your ceiling as you caught sight of his Adam’s apple. “Why are you being so nice to me after how much I hurt you?”

“Because I care about you,” you answered simply. “And I know you still care about me. You wouldn’t be this hung up over everything if you didn’t.” 

There was a sort of smugness in you as you teased him and he let out a breath of laughter. 

“Hah. I do. I care about you. And I’ve missed you so much.” 

You didn’t think it was possible, but he hugged you even closer to him. Your arms released their embrace on Hitoshi as you brought them to your sides. He looked down at you with a strange expression.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you admitted, squeezing your eyes shut as if it pained you. “You’re the first and only person I’ve ever loved and I miss you more than you could ever know.” 

Your head was bowed at his chest as you tried to steady your trembling hands by grasping the fabric at the front of his shirt.

“Why did you never call me? Why didn’t you tell me you were moving to another continent? Toshi, I loved you so much--” Your voice broke off as the tears you were holding in escaped you. “Why did you leave me?” 

His fingers were laced in your hair, holding you tight. He wanted nothing more than to soothe your tears and hated himself for being the cause of them. “I’m an insecure idiot who fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.” 

Through the blur of tears, you saw the wistful look on his face. The best thing? you thought to yourself, touched. 

“No amount of apologizing is going to fix anything,” he said, accepting it as a fact, “but I am so sorry. And I want you to know I’m grateful the person who AirDropped me that day was you.”

He lifted your chin and wiped your tears away with the pad of his thumb. Your knees were touching his thighs as you sat down with your legs folded under you, facing him. Letting go of the grip you had on his shirt, you unballed your fists and instead rested your palms on his chest.

You grinned at the audacity of it all. “I still can’t believe that happened. But I’m glad it did, too.”

“Must be a small world.”

“Or maybe it’s fate.” Your hand found his as you interlocked pinkies with him bashfully. 

Hitoshi looked down at your interlaced fingers and a light dusting of pink colored his cheeks. A sense of enjoyment filled you as he continued to blush, a teasing grin playing on your face. 

Before you lost any courage you had, you pressed your lips against the corner of his mouth-- Not quite a kiss but most definitely an invitation for one.

The red on his cheeks died down as his eyes darkened in color, removing his hand from your waist to cup your jaw. Hitoshi’s palm was warm and soft against you and you leaned into his caress.

“Do you feel like you got the closure you needed?” he asked, his voice a whisper as he leaned close to you. 

“Yes.” You nodded, painfully aware of your close proximity. If you were to lift your head up any more, your lips would brush against his. “Do you?”

“Yes.” 

His forehead was pressed against yours and your heart was being so hard, you were certain Hitoshi could hear it from his spot in front of you.

After a moment’s silence, you said, “Now what?” 

He shrugged, eyes shut. “That’s up to you to decide. I’m happy with doing whatever will make you happiest. And if that means leaving you alone and letting you close this chapter, then I--”

You yelped, silencing him with a gentle shove on the chest.

“Are you crazy?” you asked incredulously. “You think I would ever let you go again?” There was frustration in your voice as you resisted the temptation to kiss the stupidity out of him. “I… I mean, unless that’s what you want?” 

“Y/N…” Now he was the one with the tone of disbelief, like he couldn’t wrap his mind around what you had just said. “I’d want to stay with you. For as long as you’d let me.”

“O-Oh?” Your eyes widened in shock, but soon settled into an ecstatic smile. “Fate must have done us a favor with all this AirDrop stuff, huh? I fell for you all those years ago as Shinsou, and I fell for you again without even knowing who you were. There’s no way I’d throw that chance away.” 

Tired of waiting for him to make the first move, you brought your hands to the back of his neck, and lifted your head up to meet his. You spotted an amused look on his face, but it didn’t last very long when your lips finally pressed against his with a contented sigh.

His movements were gentle and slow, like he was afraid if he kissed you any harder he would find this was only an illusion that would shatter. But it wasn’t. It was real and it was genuine and you wanted to prove it to him. 

You broke away from his touch to pepper chaste kisses on his jawline, starting at the lobe of his ear and making your way down to the sensitive part of his throat you knew would drive him crazy, your hot breath blowing against his neck as a guttural sound escaped him.

“Eager, are we?” he asked hoarsely, his chin lifted. 

You grinned mischievously against him.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture,” said Hitoshi, gently pushing you away with a roguish glint in his eyes, “you don’t always have to keep giving. You should be spoiled for a change.”

You squealed when his hands trailed down your sides to cup the undersides of your thighs, lifting you up as you sat down on his lap. His hands unclasped the button that fastened his coat on you and brushed the collar aside, exposing the supple skin on your upper chest.

“You should be spoiled,” he breathed in between each kiss he planted on your decolletage, “every day of your life.”

Your face burned at the implication of his words, the skin his mouth had touched feeling like they were searing hot. Though his jacket had fallen off your shoulders, you were still overwhelmed by his scent, the woodsy citrus filling your senses as you sighed his name and you still couldn’t get enough. He was more intoxicating than any vodka you had consumed earlier that night. 

Growing impatient at his teasing, you squirmed on his lap, causing him to hiss in response. 

You giggled at his expression and stuck your tongue out at him. “Just kiss me already.”

Tossing his inhibitions to the side, he obliged. 

When your lips met again, this time it wasn’t uncertain and gentle. Each move Hitoshi made was firm and deliberate and if you weren’t already sitting down, your knees would have gone weak and given in.

His teeth grazed your lower lip and he kissed you harder, and your hands found themselves tangled underneath the hem of his shirt. The skin on your arms filled with goosebumps as he mimicked your motions, his fingers toying with the clasp of your bra as his name escaped your lips once more in a strangled moan.

Before it could go any further, however, Hitoshi removed his hands from the band of your undergarments and slowly pulled away from your kiss. 

His face was flushed with beads of sweat falling down the side and his breathing was labored. You were certain you weren’t any better as you rested your forehead against his to steady yourself. 

“Why’d you stop?” you asked with a strained voice, giving him your best pleading eyes.

“It’s late and you need some rest, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to your nose with a smile. “I don’t want to stop--believe me,” he promised, his hands squeezing your thighs that still straddled his lap, “but I also don’t want you to rush into anything you might regret.” 

You pouted, not wanting him to stop, but also feeling grateful he wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything you would regret the next day.

“Damn you for being such a gentleman,” you grumbled. 

He ran the tip of his tongue against his lower lip. It was plump and red and it took all your willpower not to kiss it again.

“Only sometimes, princess,” he said when he noticed how your gaze zeroed in on his mouth. “But for now, you should get ready for bed. The sun is almost rising already.” 

Hitoshi made a move to get up and you slowly unwrapped your legs from his hips, standing up shakily. He placed his hands on your hips to help you steady yourself, but that just made the weakness worse. 

Still holding you, he stood up from the couch and looked down at you, resting his chin on the top of your head as you hugged him. 

“You’re leaving?” you whimpered, a pout on your face. 

“Sadly,” he sighed. “I have work tomorrow. Well, in a few hours I suppose. But if you need me to stay I--”

“Oh, my god!” you cried, jumping away from him. “You have work? And yet you still came for me and let me keep you this whole time?! Toshi!” 

You folded your arms across your chest as you scolded him, but he just ruffled your hair playfully. 

“It was the least I could do,” said Hitoshi. “And I’m used to running on little to no sleep. It’s fine, don’t worry about me.” 

“It’s not fine! If you don’t get enough sleep this week I will smother you until you pass out.” You glared at him, holding his face between your hands and examining his tired eyes. Your gaze softened when you saw how sleepy he looked and thought about how well he hid it from everyone. You sighed. “And I think you’re a lot more selfless and caring than you give yourself credit for.” 

You kissed the apples of his cheeks and smoothed his brows. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you said. “You should get going.”

“No, you’re the one I should be thanking,” he replied, giving you one last embrace before getting ready to head towards the door. 

Both of your legs felt like lead, neither of you wanting to leave the other after years of being apart. With a smile, he moved towards the door. 

In silence, you examined him for the first time in four years. He was taller than before-- Bulkier, too. It looked like he worked out since he was in college, his plain shirt stretching against his pectoral muscles. 

But still, he was the same Shinsou Hitoshi you had always loved. 

You glanced at his bared arms and your eyes widened. “Oh, wait--! Your coat!” 

It had fallen off your shoulders and onto the floor during the heat of the moment, and you picked it up and brought it to him. As you held it out, his hands wrapped your outstretched ones around the fabric of his sweater. 

“No, it’s okay,” he said with a shake of his head and a small grin on his lips. “You should keep it. It suits you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in warning, but hugged the coat to your body nonetheless. “I hope you know this means I’m never giving it back to you now.” 

Hitoshi laughed. “I figured.”

He was about to grab the door knob when you blurted, “O-Or maybe I could give it back to you! If we were to, I don’t know, meet up for some food this week?” 

Turning back in surprise, he was met with a look of utter embarrassment on your face. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. 

You bit your lip, unsure what had just come over you when you asked him on a date but also not regretting it for a moment. 

“Only if you want,” you murmured, suddenly feeling more bashful. 

Taking the hint, Hitoshi looked at you with a mix of wonder and amusement. “Sure. I’ll get some food with you just to have my coat back.” 

You gasped, cheeks burning. “You know what? Never mind, I’m keeping this--!”

“I’m kidding,” he laughed, tone still teasing. “The jacket is just a bonus. What I’d really be there for is...the food.”

You buried your head in your hands and sighed. “I-- Why do I have to like you?” 

He shrugged, feeling just as lost as you were. “Because feelings are strange.” 

“They are,” you agreed. “But they’re worth it. And so are you.”

Hitoshi smiled as you gave him a gentle kiss goodnight. 

“Have a safe drive home, Toshi.”

“Thank you. Go get some sleep now, kitten. We can talk when you wake up.” 

You nodded feverishly, almost bouncing in anticipation at the thought of talking to him again. “I’m going to sleep right now so I wake up faster and get to talk to you sooner.”

A chuckle of surprise left his lips before he could stop himself. “You’re such a dork, you know? But I love that about you.”

Your face heated at the sound of the l-word as the two of you stared at each other, both in shock that the night happened and even happier that it did. 

“I… I should go now,” he said in a daze. He didn’t want to leave and you didn’t want him to, but you knew he had work soon. 

You nodded, waving at him as he left your house. “See you soon, Hitoshi.”

When the door closed shut behind him, you slumped a little. Tired and exhausted yet wishing you could see him soon. Though it might have been foolish, you couldn’t help but wish he was feeling the same.

Grabbing your phone on the coffee table, you unlocked it to check the time. You were about to shut it off and put it in your pocket when a notification bubble popped up on your screen.

“AirDrop: mememate would like to share a note,” it read, and a grin spread across your lips as you eagerly pressed accept. 

The notepad application immediately opened up on your phone and you read the small message on the off-white display.

mememate: can’t wait for our date, y/n. p.s. i really really like you.

Letting out a surprised cry of joy, you held your phone to your chest, hugging it along with Hitoshi’s jacket he had left you. 

From the other side of the door, Hitoshi had heard your scream and responded with a laugh of his own. A feeling of warmth in his heart as he placed his phone in his pocket and headed for his car. Thank goodness for AirDrop. 

Your heart was pounding and your lips were still pulsing from the way he kissed you. Even as you got ready for bed and drifted off into a restful sleep, the silly smile never fell from your face. 

You were grateful he came to get you at the nightclub, and you were grateful he was the recipient of your memes that day at the amusement park. 

He made mistakes in the past and you were no saint either, but you had an opportunity to heal those wounds and be with Hitoshi again. 

And you just couldn’t wait for your next date together. 

a/n: AHHH THAT WAS A LOT,, pls let me know what you think! i know some readers never want to forgive shinsou at all and that’s okay, but i do think y/n forgives him and still really cares about him [and maybe l-words him? o.o] so i hope u support it 🥺 ilysm and thank you for reading! lmk ur thoughts !! xx 

[dragonindigo245]

Official post for my orange side theory

AND NO IT IS NOT WRATH OR ANGER

WARNING: Spoilers for Working Through Intrusive Thoughts. I'm not gonna bother adding the spoiler tag to this post because all the spoilers are going to be under the read more.

Also this post is long so be warned.

Back in early August of 2020 I came up with an orange side theory I have stuck with for a long time. I always found the orange side theory of wrath/anger to be odd, seeing as anger is an emotion not a personality trait, and therefore made an effort to try and discover what I can see the orange side being. In light of the fandoms response to the latest asides saying that orange being wrath is "now canon", I figured it was time to bring it back, along with new points and explanations.

What is the orange side exactly? The answer is simple. He might not be this exactly, but orange is naivety, irrationality, or the inability to see logic clearly.

This started when I made the connection to the dark sides being complete opposites to one another. For example, Janus and Patton are opposite ends of the moral spectrum, Roman and Remus are opposite ends of the creative spectrum, and Logan himself is on the functionality/rationality spectrum. The opposite end would be something like naivety or irrationality.

After that post, I made another a couple of months ago with 3 main points, the first being the opposite ends point. The other two points are just as important.

Point 2: It ties into the 3 monkeys theory

The recent episode confirmed the 3 monkeys theory, further solidifying this point. In case you live under a rock or are new to the Sanders Sides theories, the 3 monkeys theory is based on the whole "See no evil, hear no evil, and speak no evil" thing. The dark sides all have powers relating to each of these.

Janus has the ability to mute the sides (speak no evil), Remus has the ability to muffle the sides (hear no evil), and Orange has the ability to... make... their eyes pretty? I'm sure that we will get an actual explanation on how he influenced Logan in the future lol. Regardless, orange is definitely see no evil.

Now you may be asking, Indigo, how does this tie into irrationality?

Do you know what irrationality is? The inability to SEE the world clearly or to SEE reason or logic. Irrationality blinds you to reason itself. It makes sense, seeing as emotions are illogical and orange clearly did something to push Logan to an outburst. When orange provided his influence, Logan's eyes glowed orange, indicating he lost the ability to see purely logically. While, yes, orange did this with anger as a vessel, irrationality takes many forms.

Point 3: Color symbolism

Something that is frequently overlooked when fanders make theories about the sides is that each side ties into their color scheme in some way. Roman being red ties into him functioning as Thomas' romantic side, Patton's light blue tying into his gentle nature and trustworthiness, etc.

Orange is a color that is tied to joy and youth. Being naïve to the world around you crumbling down will often make you happier. While some naivety is great and can make you happy, in large doses it is a threat to your well being.

Point 3.5: How is this connection accurate?

A great deal of the plot in this episode, especially the endcard, showcases this irrational blindness to all of the issues the sides are having with each other. Throughout the episode, Logan keeps having to sacrifice his plan to help Thomas and then once Nico calls Thomas, Thomas doesn't know how hard it hurts Logan to once again be brushed off. In the endcard, Patton and Roman tell Logan that this is more important, not realizing how rejected Logan feels.

This isn't just happening with Logan either. Patton and Virgil have had some rising tension as of late as well. This is showcased the most clearly in this video when Virgil snaps at Patton and says "Oh thank goodness. You're giving him permission." sarcastically. Patton takes this as "I didn't know you would give him permission" whereas Virgil was meaning "He doesn't need your permission to feel good about this". Furthermore, each of the light sides have argued with each other individually in different episodes except for Virgil and Patton.

With Janus recently being more accepted, Remus appearing and hurting everyone, and the tension each of the main sides have... it's all going to fall apart. Nobody but the dark sides seem to notice this tension, not even Thomas. Why? Because they are being naïve. The orange side is either keeping them blissfully unaware or the very fact they are unaware is giving the orange side power.

What is the new point you mentioned?

This video with the orange side really got my gears turning. I began making connections that otherwise I didn't have the ability to make, or never happened to think of. The fact my theory has managed to hold up in a heavy orange side lore video only solidifies my confidence in this.

Point 4: The dark sides revolve around the truth

This theory is a little more of a stretch but if I'm right, then this is all the evidence I really need to confirm that orange is irrationality.

Janus is essentially the ring leader of the dark sides. He keeps them hidden until Thomas wants to be aware of them, with the potential exception of Virgil who we don't know when he was revealed to Thomas. However, each dark side has something in common besides witty remarks. They all center around the truth.

Janus and Remus are easier to figure out, seeing as Janus is literally the embodiment of lies and Remus has multiple times where it is obvious he provides the unfortunate truth. Remus being the bringer of truth is showcased multiple times, which I will only bullet point because this post is more-so about orange than him.

His line of "I would never hide anything from you."

Janus bit in Forbidden Fruit that goes "No longer will you deceive yourself about the ugliness within you."

Logan admitting Remus can help Thomas in his own way

Virgil on the other hand is harder. Unlike the other two, Virgil represents a completely different angle of this "truth theme". Virgil represents the fear of both the truth and the unknown. Why would Janus even need to even repress the dark sides in the first place if Thomas wasn't afraid of the truth that they were apart of him? Why would Thomas had admitted he didn't want there to be more dark sides after he asks if there were more of them if it were not fear he had more unwanted parts of him and fear of not knowing what they were?

Virgil knows Thomas' fears. This would have made admitting he was a dark side such a hard feat. If he felt Thomas was chill with the dark sides, Virgil could have instantly told Thomas he was in fact one of them. In a way, this makes Virgil the perfect bridge between the light and dark sides. The dark sides provide Thomas with the truth he needs or wants, and the light sides figure out how to handle it.

Point 4.5: What does this have to do with orange?

Orange would keep Thomas from the truth. While, yes, this is the exact same thing Janus does, Orange would do it another way. Janus makes Thomas unaware of the truth he KNOWS. Unconsciously, Thomas still knows what Janus hides. This makes it entirely different from how naivety works. Naivety would keep him from ever learning the information in the first place.

Furthermore, we saw that orange is potentially connected to Janus in some way. The very last thing we see in Working Through Intrusive Thoughts is the flash from Janus' eyes, to oranges eyes. This could be a slight hint at Janus and Oranges functions not being so far apart.

Or the writers just thought it would look neat. That too.

Is Logan the orange side?

I can say with almost 100% certainty the answer is no. We saw before each sides introduction, they manifested themselves in the other sides.

Janus silenced Roman in Accepting Anxiety Part 2, Remus manifested in Roman by giving him random unwanted outbursts (like the naked Aunt Patty line that Roman said he didn't know where it came from in the Christmas episode), and therefore it follows orange is manifesting in his own way.

Furthermore, Logan is not the type of character to turn evil. He has outbursts and is being beaten down but he would never snap for good. If anything, we have seen from Putting Others First that he would only appear as needed if he felt ignored.

Logan is not one to let his emotions make irrational decisions for long, and he almost always goes to make up for his mistakes the moment they happen. He always has Thomas' best interests at heart and has witnessed Virgil realizing force is not the way to go about it.

It makes no sense for his character and there is no reason for it to happen narratively.

Please note that this post is simply a theory and I do not wish to start arguments about if I am right or not. If you are going to provide counterclaims, please do so respectfully and do not clog my notes with your own essay. Thank you!

[purrincess-chat]

Guess who's back on her bullshit? It's me. Hi, I am. I need to tell you all about an idea that's living in my head rent free right now because it's almost LadyNoir July and for a long time I have wanted to write a LadyNoir fic where LB is in mad denial about her feelings for Chat because much like my favorite thing to write with Adrinette is Adrien being in denial about his feelings for Marinette and they slowly escalate until he eventually goes "oh shit," my favorite LadyNoir things are LB knowing she loves Chat but trying hella hard to put a lid on that shit because it can't happen.

So, like alternate s2 timeline post-glaciator, the rivals never amount to anything, and LB instead is real hot and bothered about Glaciator. (I'm still salty we've never seen her question that moment once. Bitch you blushed!!) She's just pacing around her room, staring pensively at her Adrien photos, and Tikki is like you good, fam?

"No, I'm not."

She sits down on her chaise with a frustrated sigh, leaning grumpily against her fist. Like how dare he? Be in love with her for real?? And actually do things that are sweet and romantic?? When Adrien exists??

When Tikki seems confused, Marinette gets up again and resumes pacing, rambling about how she is in love with Adrien. Period. No one else. Especially not Chat Noir. He's not even her type. She hates blonds. Adrien is just the exception to the rule. Duh.

She picks up the rose again and groans, annoyed by how hot it makes her cheeks. Who the hell gave Chat Noir permission to be cute?? Whomst???

Tikki: I'm sensing you have some pent up frustrations with Chat Noir.

Marinette: I do not! What gave you that idea?

Tikki: Well, you've been walking around your room rambling about him for the past 40 minutes.

Marinette: And?

When Tikki gives her the 🤨 Marinette is like okay fine! I may have thought for a brief moment just in passing, totally casual, that Chat Noir is kinda cute. And sweet. And he's super dependable and trustworthy, and he makes me laugh sometimes. And if I'm being honest that suit fits him really well. Not that I've ever looked. But that doesn't mean I'm in love with him!

Tikki: okay.

Marinette: Just because I kissed him that one time and thought about it for a week doesnt mean I like him.

Tikki: alright.

Marinette: I mean, I really thought about that kiss. What kind of chapstick does he use? His lips always look so soft...

Tikki: why don't you ask him?

Marinette: Because then he'll know I was thinking about kissing him! And he'll do that thing where he smiles all smug-like and calls me bugaboo and he'll say something like "meow, m'lady, if you're offering your tongue to a cat, would you consider this one?" He cannot know that I think about kissing him.

Tikki: So don't ask him?

Marinette: Right. Because I am absolutely not in love with him, and I don't even want him to think that I am.

Tikki: You should tell him that. Maybe he'll move on to another girl.

Marinette: Move on?? No, no, no. He's in love with me. The only thing he needs to move is that butt over to me, so he can call me m'lady!

Tikki: But if you're not in love with him, isn't it only fair that he go be with someone else who loves him too.

Marinette: We're not talking about me, we're talking about him, and he's in love with ME.

Tikki: But you don't want to date him?

Marinette: God, no. Haven't you been listening? I'm in love with Adrien. Chat Noir is just my super hot and surprisingly romantic partner that I sometimes fantasize about kissing.

Tikki: And you're not in love with Chat Noir?

Marinette: Of course, I'm in love with him! Why do you think I've been pacing my bedroom for an hour?? I'm stressed!

Tikki: Well, if you are in love with him, isn't that a good thing? He loves you too!

Marinette: No, Tikki! Chat Noir is my partner. We can't date each other! I mean, I know everyone in Paris ships us, and clearly, Chat knows his way around a romantic picnic, but could you imagine if I told him I liked him after all this time? And he smiled that stupid dorky smile and leaned in to kiss me with his lips that have no business being that soft? Do you have any idea how humiliating that would be? I have a reputation to uphold!

Tikki: But if you both love each other, and things with Adrien aren't going very well, then-

Marinette, offended: How could you say that? Do you really think things with Adrien aren't going well?? 🥺🥺

Tikki: Well, you don't know how he feels about you, but you do know how Chat Noir feels.

Marinette: What? So I'm just supposed to date a boy because we're in love with each other?

Tikki: isn't that how it works?

Marinette: I can't date Chat Noir! Because... if Hawkmoth found out about it, then he would totally use it against us.

Tikki: Surprisingly, that's the most logical thing you've said all night.

Marinette: This isn't fair! That stupid cat attacked me when I was weak! Weak!! Ugh, and I have to see him every day, and he's gonna flirt with me. It's gonna be disgusting.

Tikki: So, tell him to stop flirti-

Marinette: No! I want him to flirt with me. I just don't want him flirting with me.

Tikki and Plagg meet up later to swap stupid owner stories, and Tikki gets a double chocolate chip cookie.

Plagg: whoa, bringing out the big guns tonight.

Tikki, with blood shot eyes: Plagg, I don't know how much more of this I can take. I'm gonna tell her.

Plagg: That's okay. Adrien only "just a friend"zoned Marinette 6 times this week. It's his personal lowest. I think he's starting to come around.

Tikki: Why are humans so stupid?

Plagg: I dunno. But they make good cheese.

Anyway, I just really love the thought of Ladybug being cranky because Chat Noir is really cute, and she hates herself for admitting it.

[yyparkq]

cuffed

Since you decided to end your arrangement with Jackson six months ago with respect to his newfound girlfriend, you exerted an awful lot of effort to stop yourself from coming back to him every time you’re feeling lonely. Depriving your own self of mindblowing orgasms takes too much of your energy and willpower but thankfully you manage to get by with toys to play with yourself…and occasional hookups from blind dates.

Never in your whole life has your current situation crossed your mind. Even as you usually roleplay and engage in kinks, you never imagined being stuck in a situation so frustrating and embarrassing—thanks for the drought brought to you by the demands of your career and the lack of trustworthy dudes around you to satisfy you.

In your apartment, you have a magnificent view of the setting sun painting the sky a mixed hue of orange and magenta at the veranda, one of your favorite places to spend time contemplating about things. Now is definitely not that time, though. Not when you’re stark naked on your bed with one of your wrists handcuffed in one of your bedposts after your fuck for the night—who turns out to be having a pregnant girlfriend—left you alone in a hurry to attend to some emergency situation just before going down on you.

The situation infuriates the hell out of you. You were too blindsided by your sexual needs earlier that you simply agree to the man’s requests, even if it meant being tied up while being fucked. As soon as you reached your apartment, articles of your clothing were discarded quickly and your wrist ended up being cuffed. The man you were with excused himself for a while when his phone didn’t stop ringing. You expected him to turn his phone off and resume touching your body but to your surprise, you saw him peeking at your door, fully dressed again and with a look of panic and terror in his eyes. Within a few feet away from you, he told you that he actually has a girlfriend and that she’s at the hospital right now about to give birth to their child. What a douche.

You were too shocked to respond immediately and just let him get his way only to remember that your hands are remotely tied as soon as you heard your front door shut.

It was one of those times when you wish you were in your normal logical self. You could have saved yourself the trouble if you noticed immediately that one of your wrists is bound. Looking around the room, you found the nearest piece of clothing you previously wore six feet away from you, too impossible for you to barely reach. The only thing that you could use at that point to cover yourself is the bed sheets where you were lain on.

You couldn’t stay like that forever. You need to act and think quickly before you could actually spend the night helpless in your own apartment.

Fortunately, you noticed that your smartwatch remained fastened around your other wrist—the free wrist—and you were able to call and ask someone for help. You’re too embarrassed to call just anyone so you managed to narrow your list to the two most trustworthy people in your life—your two best friends. The first resort is your girl best friend from college. She’s been one of the constant people in your life and you’re fairly confident the situation will not faze your friendship and she will not judge you at all. But she wasn’t picking up your calls and you’re slowly getting anxious so you opt to phone the other person on your list—Jackson Wang.

As if he’s been waiting for you to call at that moment, Jackson picks up his phone only after a ring. You sighed in relief as you heard his familiar voice on the other line, your stomach tied in knots as you spoke to him, asking him to come over to your apartment immediately, not disclosing the situation yet because you’re too ashamed.

Jackson must have sensed the urgency in your voice even though you tried to act cool since it took him only less than an hour to reach your house. He let himself in using your old passcode he knew very well by heart.

He was dumbfounded when he arrived and saw the situation you are in. For almost five minutes, he was laughing his ass off looking at you and not even bothering to free your wrist from the restraints.

Oh god, you miss him terribly. It’s almost half a year since you’ve been in the same room and in this close proximity with this man and you’d be lying if you say you don’t miss him one bit. After all, he has the ability to cloud your mind any time of the day; most especially at night when you’re lonely and craving someone’s touch.

“So,” he says and clears his throat before continuing. “You need my help?”

You roll your eyes, reminded of how annoying he could be when he’s not pleasing you on the bed. “Why do you think I called you here then? To mock the shit out of me? Get the fucking keys on the kitchen counter, Jackson. Please. For goodness sake!”

He cocks an eyebrow at your tone.

“No, I thought you’re horny and that motherfucker didn’t even get to touch you? You know I’d be glad to help you with your release,” he says, reaching out to caress your thighs on top of the sheets.

You know. To be honest, a part of you hoped you could spend the night with him. He’s irreplaceable. You never found a guy as good as Jackson does make you feel when it comes to bed. Though you never really told him, he’s set the standard too high for all the other guys and you’re evidently struggling because of it. Most guys you dated to fill in the void of him doesn’t come as close to him. They all prioritized their own releases and hardly even cared whether you reached yours or not. It’s frustrating.

You let your free hand clutch the material draped on your chest and feel your heart thump loudly as his hand inched closer to the apex of your thighs. You’re afraid he might feel the wetness still dripping out of your core. After hearing his voice on the other line after a long time, you were reminded of how good he could make you feel with his tongue and hands working wonders on your body and you can’t help but touch yourself once again, having a little fun of your own.

Jackson lifts the cover from your body and you almost shriek when the cold air nip against your flushed skin. Your legs attempt to close together in reflex but both his hands immediately stop it. He takes a good look at your core and smirks at the way your juices were smeared between your legs, visibly staining the light gray sheets beneath you.

“I thought he didn’t even touch you and yet you’re here dripping wet,” he squints at the realization. “Did you touch yourself?” he asks, thumbing between your folds to gather your wetness and bringing his own fingers to his lips.

You stare as Jackson licked your juices off his fingers clean. His eyes turning darker with lust as you moan at the sight of him. At this point, you can feel your core burning with desire more than ever and you couldn’t care less whether or not his pronounced girlfriend finds out about the two of you fucking behind her back. You want him back. He was yours to begin with, anyway.

“I asked you, baby.”

Your pussy clenched at the hoarseness of his voice and you groaned at the fact that nothing’s still inside you. “Fuck me, Jackson.”

“Were you thinking about that motherfucker while touching yourself? You know you can’t get what you want unless you answer my question.”

“God damn it. I was thinking of you. Shit—” you scream when he slaps your pussy quite harshly.

He’s definitely enjoying this. “Watch your words, baby. Now, tell me, what was I doing when you were touching yourself?” he asks before lightly patting your core to ease the pain.

“When—when you..when you ate my pussy during your girlfriend’s birthday party,” you stutter.

He smirks, recalling how he devoured your pussy inside the house while his girlfriend attended to her guests at the party. “Oh, yeah. That was fun.”

The memory and the sight of you squirming beneath him was enough for Jackson to undress to take out his dick and stroke it a few times before running the tip along your folds to lubricate himself.

“You’re still on pill?” he asks and you nod. He hovers over you on the bed.

Jackson kisses you before finally sheathing himself inside of you. He pants and stops moving for a while, letting you adjust around his girth for a few seconds, before thrusting into you. “Fucking tight. I miss you,” he whispers to your ear and lightly bites on the sensitive area of your neck. His hands roam around your body before settling one to play on your clit and the other to massage your breast and pinch your nipple.

Jackson fucked you fast and hard, filling you up deliciously after six fucking months.

The room is filled with your heavy pants and mixed noises of skin slapping against skin and metal clacking of the handcuffs against the bedpost. Your bounded wrist starting to ache but you didn’t mind.

You bite your lip and grip Jackson’s hair harder as you feel yourself nearing your release. “I’m about to cum—fuck, Jackson—stop..oh my god.”

“Good girl,” Jackson praises you for cumming so hard and fast but did not waver with his thrusts.

You quiver and try to stop his hips from moving but he still continues to pound into you, lifting your left leg up and positioning himself from your behind this time. You’re twice as helpless with having only one hand free.

“I want you to cum again, baby girl,” he groans to your ear. His thrusts are getting sloppier signaling his release. He doesn’t have to tell you twice as you came right after him.

Jackson stays buried inside of you for a few more minutes as you two try to catch your breath. Eventually, he gets up and retrieves the keys to your handcuffs from the pocket of his pants.

You stare at him in disbelief. “You had the fucking keys all this time?”

“Yes, I saw it on the couch,” he smirks and unlocks the metal.

“Then why didn’t you remove this shit earlier you motherfucker,”

“You know how much I enjoy seeing you beg baby.”

Jackson grabs a towel from your drawer and cleans you up, not missing the chance to tease you once in a while. He inspects your previously bounded wrists and places light kisses around the marked area.

You were almost touched by the gesture until you remember his girlfriend and the shit you just did behind her back.

“Hey, what about…your girlfriend?” you try to play it cool. Honestly, you don’t even remember her name by now.

“Yeah, we broke up two months ago,” he says nonchalantly.

Two months ago? And he didn’t bother telling you?

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy - Kikuta really deserved better [part 3] 280-283

I’m still behind on my GK meta.  Here is my push to catch up before new chapters drop.  Just a note of clarification from my last meta.  When I discuss Yuusaku’s eyes being similar to Asirpa’s, I don’t mean that he has blue/green eyes like hers but just that his ‘innocence’ is represented by that but there may also be a difference.  If he were not Hanazawa’s biological son, it would make a sweet plot twist and explain why he didn’t inherit the ‘natural abilities’ of the men of that family in the military.  This sounds silly, but a major theme of GK is that children do inherit abilities from their parents.

Most of chapter 280 isn’t super useful, we learn that Usami discovered Kikuta’s role as a spy for central and that’s pretty much it.  Kikuta seems to think that Sugimoto will be enough to stop Tsurumi which, I dunno, I guess makes some sense considering he’s one of the main characters, but meh.

He does get a badass scene where he tries to look cool and take Tsurumi out with him here . . .

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get to be badass as Tsukishima shoots him in the head.  Recall that, he’s wanted a front row seat for the Tsurumi theatre and has rationalized in the past that he’s going to be Tsurumi’s right hand man -

[Sighs].  Oh Tsukishima, I’m more worried about your mental health and well being with these recent chapters. Honestly, the rest of the chapter seems like filler to me.  The skins are arranged to reveal a location for the gold, at the fort in Hakodate, Goryokaku.  The only other part I found interesting is here.  Tsurumi makes his orders known and Koito is off in the corner by himself.

Koito, what are you thinking?  How are you feeling? Are you upset by Tsurumi?  By Tsukishima declaring he’s Tsurumi’s right and man and not your big brother?  Tell me Koito?  Are you no longer on board with things but caught up in the momentum of events?

And both groups are now en route to the location and - Kikuta deserved better.

Chapter 281 starts out with group eating squid in Hakodate as they check out the remains of the fort.  It is mainly historical context information and how this is where Hijikata should have died.  I’m not a Shinsengumi ‘fan’ so this plot point continues to be meh for me.

What is more important is that Boutarou told Shiraishi that the gold came from the Russian Consulate to the fort.

Kimuspu lead them there as the group of men organized by Wilk are in search of the gold at the Russian Consulate.  They are able to break through a fake wall to find a cellar below where the gold is supposed to be.

Of course, since this is a manga this perfectly overlaps with other events in the manga - mainly the kidnapping of Koito by ‘Russians’ aka Tsukishima and Ogata.  Wilk goes over to investigate and sees Koito Sr. deciding that Koito’s fate is set based on the current actions of the kidnappers.

It is interesting that the previous chapter had a very lonely looking Koito to lead into this flashback that is also related to him.  Is this important or just luck in the plot/flashback story line? The men proceed to find the gold - but as Wilk examines it, it becomes clear that it isn’t the gold.

Instead, we are only left with Wilk asking him what is going on?  And we have no idea what Wilk is looking or referring to, but it isn’t gold!

The flashback ends and the group is roaming around the fort a night only to bump into the 27th!  Poor luck for the group indeed.

Chapter 282 starts off with a fight between the 27th and everyone else.  Of course they are doomed from the start since they are up against monsters of a sort.  After a few violent deaths, Sugimoto searches one of the men to find a telegram.

Welp, shit.  There best effort to beat Tsurumi isn’t going to happen as he figured things out at the same time that they did.  Shiraishi has a complete meltdown for several pages.  Which I’m personally not a fan of - I’m just tired of him being the lazy comic relief by this point.  But if you’ve been reading my meta since 2018, you’d already know how I feel about that.

Hijikata remains calm and tries to think of logical places to search for the gold.  Digging directly into the ground would have been too obvious so it is likely in a building.

Frantic, Shiraishi runs into the door of one of the buildings. The group seem to descend into a sort of chaotic panic about finding the gold before Tsurumi gets there and then how to get the gold off the site.  It all just seems odd.  Like, dude, you guys need to just chill and stop shouting out random suggestions.  Of course Sugimoto immediately concludes they will have to fight.  Which isn’t a very clever idea from Sugimoto, it is his freakkin’ default state.

Of course Hijikata was planning to fight from the start.  That has been his goal since the beginning of the manga!  But this time, he’s enlisted the help of Sofia and her fellow Russian partisans.  Who are on their way to Hakodate and we get an epic shot of her pouring vodka on her face.

It is a logical call, he needs other people who are experience fighters - someone who can go toe to toe with the 27th.

Chapter 283 then turns to give us a brief flashback into Hijikata’s planning for events.  He knows the fort inside and out and takes charge (as he should in this situation).  Before they left he met up with Sofia and tells her to bring her men to Hakodate that afternoon.

What is interesting is the conversation that unfolds as they discuss working with Sofia and her group.  As a war vet, Sugimoto is the most uncomfortable with this, even if he isn’t quite aware of it, he thinks it is too much of a stretch.  What surprises me is that Shiraishi, doesn’t trust her either and he even mentions Kiro, unless he personally thinks Kiro was more trustworthy than Wilk or Sofia?

Hijikata is confident that they will deal with things as they happen, but Asirpa clearly states that they can trust her.  This makes sense based on how Sofia was there with Asirpa when Tsurumi interrogated her - she knows Sofia is someone whom she can rely on.

Meanwhile, Sofia is supporting the dream that Wilk and Kiro both shared in their youth and tells her men as such.  Going way back to the flashback with the three of them and their interaction with Tsurumi as Hasegawa we know that she is the most caring and compassionate of the three leaders.

She is the type of person who could truly inspire others to work towards a common goal, and we’ve seen this through her actions, including taming that tiger.  The idea is still crazy, but hey why not.

On the same train is Ogata, clearly following Sofia.  He’s asleep and we get a flashback to him laying on the futon with his mom.

At the end of the chapter, it notes that she is saying some lines from a nursery rhyme associated with a children’s game.  I’d go with the interpretation that many things are easy to enter or become involved with but are difficult to escape.  How will this impact his role in the fight for the gold?  Is he still acting as a sort of solo agent?  Is he reflecting on this entire mess?  His life choices? Lack of choices?

The rest of the chapter is again a bit meh.  Of course Tsurumi has commandeered a train, looks like it is mainly carrying freight and Vasily as well.  Vasya, what are you doing again?  Why are you still after Ogata?  And you are just humming a tune while you lounge on a horse in the freight part of the train. Okay . . . as I’m behind on this meta, others have already pointed out that Vasily is likely a Cossack, all comfortable on his horse.  Which I feel like is a somewhat lazy ‘Russian stereotype’ since many different Slavic groups existed in the Russian empire at this point in history.

The end of the chapter does finally answer a question I asked in meta a very long time ago now here: https://chibivesicle.tumblr.com/post/178997911192/does-hijikata-have-a-useful-tattoo  I remember asking if Hijikata had a useful tattoo b/c we never saw it in the manga - until this chapter.  The answer?  Yes.  He fucking does have a useful tattoo.  And he is a buff man despite his age and imprisonment!

All in all what to I think of these chapters?  They are moving all of the groups together for some sort of confrontation.  How does this all pan out? We shall see.  Koito is def wavering in his support of Tsurumi.  Ogata is in the mix, likely with the Russians.  What is Vasily doing?  How many men does Tsurumi have?  What will Hijikata do based on his past battle at Hakodate?  Will Asirpa be safe?  Will Sugimoto finally get captured by Tsurumi and Ogata will have to rescue him?  I’ve been waiting for that to happen for years now by this point!

[jilonie]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙀𝘾𝙍𝙀𝙏 𝙒𝙀𝘼𝙋𝙊𝙉

Jungkook X Y/N

•Future Smut / chapters / love /mafia au /heartless jungkook /love&hate/ romance

𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙜𝙪𝙮𝙨:) 𝙞𝙢 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙧 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞’𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙥𝙖𝙙. 𝙄𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙡𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙨. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜💘

sneak peak:

“𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘠/𝘕 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸- 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘰𝘯.” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳. “𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.”

CHAPTER 1

You were walking. Fast; Really fast. All you could see was black. A darker black than the cloth that covered your eyes. hands. Harsh hands; 6 hands locked on your arms and on your shoulders that you knew would’ve created purple-greenish spots that would hurt like hell. You realized you were in a tunnel speeding through the unknown. Echoes of their keys dangling with one another combined with the never ending tapping of their footsteps irritated your ears. As soon as you lightly shook your head and sighed in exhaustion, you felt a hand against your head violently grabbing a pile of your hair and forcing your head to face forward. “we’re almost there please stay with me” he said. You didn’t know who it was. He sounded soft yet hungry; it was a husky voice that filled your ears and hit every nerve. He sounded rather trustworthy. Rather maybe safe.

Eyesight was still forbidden. Hot air hit your skin at an instant, sending vibrations of satisfaction down your spine as you entered a room and finally stopped.

“I wanna see.” a delicate sound escaped your lips and they knew you weren’t like the others. You weren’t scared of anything; in fact, it amused you.

“Fuck, how is she like this?” one of the men whispered to the other.

“Boss told us she’s a power house. He needs her.” he answered failing to make sure you couldn’t hear. Your red lips turned into a smirk as soon as they placed you on a chair; dead silence filled the room as you waited for the Boss. Strands of hair caressed your cheeks as you waited.

Suddenly rays of light became one with your eyes and he became visible to you. It was the mafia boss. The king of darkness. He was unbeatable; nobody dared to speak of him, steal nor go against. He was quite formally dressed; a serious looking man yet dangerous scars covered the left side of his face creating maps of pathways into the depths of his fearless soul. He scanned your face in surprise of how beautiful you looked. He kneeled in-front of you placing his tattooed hands on the arms of your chair.

“Y/N,” he took a long pause as he tilted his head not breaking the eye contact with his eyes piercing into yours. A painful tint of exhilaration stormed inside you. “You’ll be training with my secret weapon. His name is Jungkook;” he continued, “You know why you’re here young Y/N. Don’t let me down.”

You grew up in the black money, drugs, fame and most of all risk. Your father was the original boss of the mafia. The man even god feared. Lee Keith known as ‘The Boss’, was his right hand man he always relied on. Your father knew you’ve always had this burning flame inside you since the days you smiled as you watched his men kill people; you showed no weakness. As you got older you were the seducer. You’d tend to make the other gangs you’re father was against, gain your trust and told you all their plans and secrets. You were a magical power with eyes darker than the demon but face so irresistible, so stunning; you were a stamp in their memory, difficult for them to forget you.

When your father was killed, your mother took you and ran away from everything and everyone for a good 5 years. You had to be somewhere safe since your protector was dead and all gangs in the dark world your father had beaten, knew you and would die to have you. Until your mafia found you again. You were home.

“Take me to Jungkook.” You spoke in pure confidence even though you knew nothing about him. You had never seen his face however during the fights you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He fought so elegantly yet dangerously; he’d kill numerous people in a matter of seconds and get out with one or two scratches. He’d always wear his mask, even inside the mafia. His face was a mystery; a mystery you wanted to solve.

They dressed you with a mask similar to Jungkooks, black sleeveless top that hugged your silhouette, baggy pants and boots, hair half up half down , purple hair tie paired with fighting gloves. You walked up to the disguised fighter. He was taller than you. Your eyes darted on his arms; his arms exposed of how much he worked out yet the outline of his scars scattered around them were concealed with his tight armor, but still popped out. You noticed a small “Jk” written on the left side of his clothing. He was masked. Your masks became a barrier between both of you. Your only source were your pair of eyes .

“So your the girl the boss has been bragging about?” he said. He sounded rough; a rough angelic voice you don’t hear everyday. You crossed your arms,

“So you’re the Jungkook secret weapon thing right?” You answered.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow and cracked his slender fingers looking at you in amusement. “Okay princess; cut the attitude.” he rustled. You stepped closer towards him and whispered as his eyes scanned your ones. You made him nervous.

“make me.” He liked that. You made the blood in his veins rush in adrenaline of pure euphoria. He saw you as a challenge. He wanted to make you just like him.

“ I wanna see you fight.” the tone of his voice darkened.

“I wanna see your face.” You answered back causing your mask to change shape as you smiled. He laughed shaking his head in irony as he stretched his arm exposing his sculpted biceps that led your mind to a whole new world of pleasuring thoughts about him. “Who made you think your that special love?” he answered.

You tapped his nose with your gloved finger, “Oh i am.”

You both trained like animals for a month, restless. You trained with other fighters but you both exchanged looks here and there. You could feel rays of energy blossom inside you whenever he watched you fight. It’s funny how much of an impact he had on you. The thing was, that it was two sided. He impressed you and he knew it; whenever you were around he’d do some flips kicks and tricks in hopes of catching your attention.

Your break had just started after a long session of fights and shooting. you panted so hard sweat was dripping down your pink cheeks. Your vision blurred and your head spun but you could see him coming. That was the first time in a whole week that he’d approach you; his silhouette started running towards you faster and faster as ur sight faded gradually.

“Jung-“ was the only word in your mind as you couldn’t feel your legs anymore.

“Y/N” Jungkook shouted as you felt his hands catching you; then, blank.

You woke up. Laying on a bed. All your eyes processed was the white ceiling. Your head felt like someone banged it on the ground about 100 times; It was logical considering the amount of times you got hit. But you were the best out of everyone except him. Your eyes adjusted to the world as you slowly picked yourself to a sitting position. You were alone. Theres was only a bed, a first aid kit and you.

You couldn’t stop thinking of him touching you as you collapsed even though you felt it for only a split second. His touch felt different from anything else that ever came in contact with your skin. You didn’t know why you felt that way and it killed you; he was the one who broke your stone wall of emotions. He was the weakness. As you sat there you could feel a breeze on your face. You panicked; the mask. Where was it and why isn’t it on you. You touched your bare face missing the feeling of not being trapped around a cloth for the whole day.

The door slammed opened as Jungkook rushed inside in agony looking to see if you were ok. But why did he care? He froze and studied ever corner every angle ever perfect imperfection of your beautiful face with wide eyes. He stood there just looking at you when you felt insecure and looked down breaking the intense contact. You felt your heart in your throat and fireworks blasting in your stomach from what you were experiencing and with who it was.

“Y/N,” he paused as he stood 5 feet away from you watching you sit there on the bed without your mask. He cleared his throat and shook his head trying his best to swallow every feeling, every letter of your name every aspect of you. He took a deep breath and continued as you watched in shock,

“you should continue practicing, you have 10 minutes to get your head straight.” He turned around ready to leave as he displayed his v shaped back to you sending questions in your mind of how would it look like without the cloth on top.

“Jungkook!” Your innocent voice found the courage to flow. He stopped still his back facing you; you didn’t know what to expect. He shook his head and you sat there observing in anxiousness.

“Fuck Y/N don’t say that” He said softly.

“Why? Why are you being like this. I fucking don’t know what it is about you i haven’t even seen your face and-“ You gave up. You felt weaker and weaker as you spoke; even embarrassed. He sighed loudly placing his hands behind his head as if he gave up on everything.

“I know i’m gonna regret this later but i can’t fucking help it.” he said as he walked towards you. He took his mask off and slammed his lips onto yours. A world of breathtaking feelings grew inside you in a matter of seconds as he guided his hands through your hair. Your hearts beating like wild animals trying to break out of your chests.

The world stopped and the barrier exploded in the most beautiful way none of you ever expected. He needed your kiss; he kept kissing you, and you kept letting him to. Finally the kiss broke and you looked at him. He was the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on. It was a wild beauty. His darkness was only in his eyes yet his face was delicate. His brown hair fell perfectly on his eyes caging the shimmer of his universe which consisted of all shades of black but all kinda of the brightest stars. His jaw a knife and his lips your drug. He still held on to your hair in elegance,

“Please, please don’t stop” You whispered as your voice broke.

“ From the moment i fucking saw you that first time i couldn’t stop thinking about you. You fucking mess me up Y/N and i don’t even know you.” he explained while caressing your cheek with his warm thumb. “Whenever your around you fuck me up; the only thing i think about is you Y/N and how- how you’d look in my arms every night without that stupid mask on.” he searched your eyes desperately trying to find an answer.

“Jungkook we cant be together.” Your eyes were tearing waterfalls as glistening dots of water ran in pain.

“I know.” he sighed his eyes not leaving your lips. You both knew it was forbidden to be together in the mafia. Rules were feelings not to exist what so ever for whatever reason. He kissed you again. The sensation drilled down your spine only by the feeling of his hands on you. Lips against yours. Anything that was Jungkook was your desire. He released your hair and stood up in defeat. His eyes drowned in the worst waters of his storm of emotions. You felt a knife piercing its way down your throat. He was still looking down at you as he spoke

“Practice starts in 10” His voice shaking as he forced these words out of him. He wore his mask and walked out of the room. Your stomach crumbled; Love turned into sorrow. The secret weapon broken.

CHAPTER 2

Your eyes pinned on the door that Jungkook exited from. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t move but your heart said otherwise. It spat strong bullets of blood into your veins and caused tears to fall so quickly you felt like you were drowning in your own pain. Was it because its him, or the fact that it ended just like that? Your mind was nothing but blank. It was either blank or his name.

You swore you couldn’t feel your feet dangling from the bed. It was as if he’d already taken a part of you with him from the moment he placed those soft lips on yours 3 minutes ago. That fire everyone admired about you, that fire that everyone envied about you, blew out because of this boy and the barrier he destroyed that nobody ever could even if they had the best weapons or the longest time in the world. You picked yourself up as your hands tried their best to wipe away the tears and conceal the pain.

You just stood there in silence. The only sound alive, was the sound of your delicate breath trembling as you inhaled and exhaled in hopes of calming yourself down. You started walking out the door, fighting anything in your mind that wanted to stop you from doing so. The scene where he took off his mask and revealed his incredibly handsome face was replayed in your mind on a big screen as if it was something everyone had to see, but in reality it was only for you. He wanted to do this only for you; he took it off only for you.

You felt your legs weaken which made you almost too certain that you wouldn’t make it until the practice room without bursting into tears. You finally spotted the door for the room in the distance and you stopped. You knew he was in there wearing his mask as a shield to hide his pain and not his face. The thought of this made a tint of lightning trail down your spine in the worst way possible.

Your eyes scanned fighters that went in and out the practice room. Each one stopped to look at you for more than a second which reminded you that your mask was missing. You lacked your shield of pain; you lacked the only thing you had left to cover up the mess. You rubbed your arm in nervousness as you found the courage to start heading for the room.

The door was slightly open and you could see fighters of all kind, being occupied with trainers everywhere. That was your chance to get in without anyone noticing and you took it. You trotted inside your eyes fixed on your trainer. You let your long brown hair down in hopes of covering your face that failed to do so.

“Y/N you’re extremely late..” The trainer hissed as his neck vain literally popped out. He was big and his muscles were like big unbreakable mountain rocks that looked even more fearsome with his missing eye.

“I- i’m so sorry, i was just um-“, you stuttered as you struggled to get rid of the idea that Jungkook was there.

“Where is your mask?” he interrupted you, eyeing you as if he’d never seen a beautiful face in a long time. You looked at him with wide eyes; The tension was at its max as you felt a burn trail down your throat.

“I don’t know” you answered while touching the space of your face where your mask was supposed to be. He shook his head in disappointment as he grabbed your hand. It was a grab identical to the one you felt when they held you that first time. You knew he was the one who admired you. He chose to train you.

“Fighters gather round and sit in a circle,” He roared so powerfully you could feel the floor almost vibrate. A sea of masked men covered in black, forming a big circle while having their eyes flaming in hunger was enough to make your fingers tingle in exhilaration. The atmosphere was intense and all 50 pairs of eyes were darted on you.

“You all know Y/N,” Your trainer announced leaving you in a maze of pure confusion. Your heart dropped as you raised your eyebrows looking at him in fright.

“Weapon, step forward.” He continued. Everyone gasped silently as they knew he’d put you up against the Weapon; You felt your lungs and heart igniting altogether as you processed his name. A patch of fighters slightly moved to the side to let him pass through as you darted your vision in that area. You could feel heat boiling up inside you as he stepped forward; he was a dot inside the circle, you were the one he’d have to fight.

You parted your lips in disbelief and looked at him right in the eyes, as you always did before you unraveled his face; It was you and him as everyone else sat around you. He traced you everywhere. His eyes sped in all directions of your body. His red double glazed glistening eyes full of pain were too exhausted to fight, yet the choice wasn’t his and definitely not yours.

“SET, FIGHT” The trainer shouted, his voice echoing ringing a bell in your mind as you took position immediately trying to make yourself think the one standing opposite you isn’t the boy you love. Jungkook took a deep breath and whispered just enough for nobody to hear,

“Come on love, show me that fire that i love about you.” You kicked, he grabbed; you spun, he avoided. You kept on fighting and fighting as if you were worst enemies. He couldn’t beat you easily as you fought just like him. Identical to him. Two flames intertwining causing a deadly fire; That was your connection. He grunted in surprise and growled in difficulty as you tried your best to fight him. Not because you wanted, but because he asked for it. All the fighters stared at your every move intensely, rather impressed of your power against Jungkook. You could hear nothing but the sound of needles digging through your ears yet you strongly felt Jungkooks hands grab every action you did.

You loved it. You loved the pain he opposed on you. It was a burning feeling of euphoria, too strange to explain. He grabbed your legs and pulled as you fell on your back, next thing you knew he sat on top of you pinning your arms on each side as his face was a thread away from yours. His wet hair acted as curtains in-front of his eyes. The heat from his body felt hot on your skin as you panted in need for air; or him. The thought that he was on top of you at that moment made your world flip and his mind freeze. His eyes not leaving your exposed lips.

“Fuck i can’t hide it,i want you,” he growled silently as he held your hands even tighter.

“i- i want you” you mouthed as he picked up each word that escaped your lips.

“Jungkook won this round” Your trainer said as Jungkook got up, shattering the contact between your bodies. He stood and looked at you as you were laying down below him. He couldn’t take the thought that je might’ve hurt you physically after the fight.

“God what did i do to deserve her.” he mumbled on the cloth trapping his lips as he slowly pushed back the hair in his face revealing his perfect eyebrows. He keeps touching you with those eyes but nothing else. He can’t do anything else. Suddenly he got dragged from your vision. The chemistry between you two was so vivid, your trainer grabbed Jungkook and took him further away to talk in private. You panted looking around the room as one of the other fighters approached you to help you get up.

He held his gloved hand out. You noticed a tint of his pale white skin being exposed between the end of his shirt and the beginning of the glove. You placed your hand on his and he pulled you on your feet elegantly. Rose petals fell from your cheeks and covered your body with something that feels like trust. His eyes took over yours as he gazed at your unmasked self. Naked exposed face all for himself. His eyes led to a mysterious ocean filled with whole new blacks and blues. A different beautiful from Jungkooks.

“I refuse to believe how good you are at this.” His voice so seductively soft, impossible to exist. He seemed to be an angel in disguise.

“Thanks” You answered. You flashed an innocent smile as you were about to leave, however he touched your arm and interrupted as you,

“Im Jimin by the way”. His grip felt warm, soft, heavenly.

“I’m Y/N” immediately escaped from your lips.

“i-i know” he sighed; he sounded rather hopeless as he walked away before you had the chance to say anything.

You stood in place rubbing the bruises Jungkook sprinkled all over your arms. A soft smile was formed on your face cause you knew the bruises were left on you as love bites from him. You felt it. Your tight armor was slightly ripped revealing your belly button. You did fight like lions.

Everyone was occupied practicing non stop as you sat against the wall, your legs exhausted and lips dry in need for some life. Faces of nurses dressed in green, on top of you checking you; mending you. You could feel them chatting quickly as they wrapped a wound on your leg in such speed yet smoothly since they do this nearly every 2 hours.

You rested your head on the wall and tilted it to the left as a nerve in your eye identify Jungkook right away. You couldnt resist the attraction even if you tried to swallow every piece of it. He was quite far away yet close. The trainer was talking to him yet his attention was on you. The doors to his soul were concentrated on to you as you could feel your trainer telling him something serious yet you couldnt make up what he was saying. You crossed your eyebrows in heavy concern as Jungkooks expression changed to the worse.

He glared at the ground in immense fright as your trainer started poking at his shoulder harshly. Your stomach dropped 5 stories down and your legs became numb. What was happening? What have they found out? You tried your best to focus on them as your vision became uncontrollably watery. Next thing you knew Jungkook stormed out and banged the door.

•••

2:32 am and you tossed on your bed. Your room. Number 97. It was the newest room made just for you yet rather small. Sleep was against you and the moon wasnt sinking in the ocean any time soon. The only source of light was the lamp next to you but nothing much. It was just enough to process where you were.

“Get out of my fucking mind” You whispered in desperation as you could feel your mind travel from each imperfection to every perfection of him. It was torture for you. You forced a tattoo of the letters ‘cant be together’ on each layer of your brain, but even that wasnt strong enough. Nothing was. Your face met with the palm of your hands and exhaled in exhaustion as you sank in your pillow waiting for the moon to enchant you to sleep.

Torture.

Your door handle twitching was what broke the silence. You shrugged in panic as your covers hugged your legs but he managed to get in. A tall figure was approaching you as your instinct made you throw a punch, yet your mind and eyes failed to process the fast encounter. He grabbed your hand and covered your mouth with his other hand. A familiar touch. You felt an army of sharp knifes break through your spine in a time span of 2 seconds as he held you in place.

“Hey hey princess it’s me, it’s Jungkook” Your eyes adjusted to the darkness and created his features in your mind as you had bare faced Jungkook a thread away from you. His soft voice stroked your ears as your heart lifted causing your body to fall into his arms. His hands shaking as he held your face finally having your lips onto his. The world stopped; you both found home. His hands explored you everywhere as you swathed your arms around his long neck, kissing as if that was it. As if forever wasnt an option. He broke the kiss as you leaned in for more, both lost in eachothers hearts as if everyone else in world disappeared.

“Y/N,” he muted his tone as he placed his forehead on to yours,

“ Your trainer know what’s going on but i dont fucking care. I really don’t, i only want you. Just thinking about your touch drives me insane i-“ he shook his head left and right as he spoke as if he just let out everything he ever felt, he knew it was a sin for the mafia. He sold his soul.

The weapon bloomed into a magnificent rose consisting of breathtaking reds and pinks yet filled with deadly thorns. You hunted in his eyes as you touched his cheek

“I dont know what to do Jungkook i really dont. How about we act like-like we dont know eachother or-“ you tried to come up with something as his eyes reflected hope, he wanted this; he yearned you.

“ Ill do anything literally anything, but fuck ill miss my fingers in your perfect fucking hair.” Before you could even answer you felt his lips mark sloppy kisses on your neck as you lolled your head back feeling every nerve of your body boil in pleasure.

“Jungkook i-“ You forgot how to speak as you held on to his shredded arms. Those sinewy arms of his, left you breathless only by the thought of them on you; You felt his muscles clench and unclench as he grabbed your waist tightly. You lost it. you wanted him.

“Y/N im not gonna leave you, ever, i promise on my fucking life.” he kissed you again and again

“Please dont leave me” You panted. Your heaven stopped as you felt the absence of his body from yours. The door was wide open and 4 people grabbed him dragging him out of your room. Panic.

“Y/N” he roared as his powerful outline fought for freedom. “OH MY GOD NO JUNGKOOK” You cried as you were held in place by 4 hands caging your every source of movement.

“Boss was right, inject her” a voice pierced your eardrum and destroyed every grain of hope.

“What are you doing to me? Where the fuck are you taking him?” You unstoppably struggled to break away from them as they held you even tighter. A voice from behind you awakened

“To you? Nothing. But Weapon, you’ll find out sooner or later.” You felt your heart split with the strongest most unbreakable sword not even God could control. Yet again, you went blank.

[rebsrebsrebsrebs]

Hey, Rebs. I take medication that fucks up my appetite something bad and I am often reminded by Screen Buddy Beel that I need to eat. Sometimes I only force something down cuz I feel like it would make him happy. Anyway, can we have headcanons for the boys with a GN!MC who has trouble feeding themselves? :(

Hi anon!!

I wanna say first that I absolutely feel you. I struggle with my depression and a handful of other illnesses daily. Sometimes it's hard to drag myself out of bed to eat, or shower, or anything. A lot of times I'll ask my friends to tell me to eat or I'll remember that Beel would want me to eat well, so I go get something, like anything. I ate six marshmallows for dinner the other day because it's all I could muster the energy for. Eating literally anything is better than eating nothing. You need calories to be the amazing you that you are! Keep doing your best to eat something! I believe in you and so does Beel! 

That said, here's the brothers trying to get MC to eat after noticing that they aren't eating on their own

Lucifer

He won't admit it, but having been less involved with the affairs of humans as both an archangel and a demon lord, he has to do some research to make sure he knows what humans need to be cared for

The goal is to keep them alive for the year, and that means more than just protecting them from lesser demons

Three square meals a day, unlimited access to water, they wouldn't lack for enrichment between school and his brothers' nonsense

(yes he's thinking of them like a pet he has to care for)

He isn't prepared for them not to eat on their own though.

Once he notices that they have difficulty feeding themself, he will remind them of it regularly, just as he reminds them to do their tasks

And makes their attendance at mealtimes mandatory

And makes sure they eat their lunch, or delegates it to one of the more trustworthy brothers

Boy's gonna rule and regulate and remind you into eating enough like the taskmaster he is

Mammon

Humans gotta eat right? Mammon's pretty sure MC has to eat lunch. At least. Right??

He's got an idea

One of the best parts of a photo shoot for Mammon (besides being the center of attention, of course) is the craft services table

The food at these things is good

And that's the excuse he's gonna use to try and ply MC to eat something when he drags them on one of his photo shoots

"This is some of the best Devildom food you're gonna get for free - Devilish doesn't skimp!"

Also it's a combo of giving MC something nice (good food) while also making money (modeling gig) so what's not to love?

If they try to politely decline he will insist anyway

He's their guardian demon and he's gonna take care of 'em dammit!!

Never gonna admit it tho

Do it in the spirit of the exchange program, yeah?

"Ain't it good? Told ya so!" as if that's why he's smiling

If his tactic works, he'll drag MC around to even more shoots and events.

He can't watch over them all the time much as he tries to so he makes sure that at least when they're together, MC eats something.

Leviathan

Game time is snack time, obviously. It's an important part of the ritual

(side note, I bet he has specific snacks he plays for specific games, but that's another post)

Levi presents his Henry with gamer snacks for two and a large pizza for them to share

He's honestly a little hurt when much 'sharing' doesn't get done

Does MC not like what he got? He could've sworn they ate something last time. Maybe.

Didn't they?

Oh no what if he got something they said they don't like and he forgot. Oh fuck he feels like such a bad friend.

But they aren't saying anything and that makes him feel worse

"If - if you don't like what I got you can just say it!!! I can take it!!"

MC explains that they just don't feel like eating, but he doesn't accept that so easily

"You have to! Henry and the Lord of Shadows shared every meal possible together on their long journey across the Almederian Wastes!" 

"Levi, I'm just not hungry. It isn't that deep."

"....it's that deep to me :<"

Please eat a slice of pizza so he knows you're still friends, MC

Satan

He's the one who's actually going to ask MC why they don't eat as often as he thinks humans ought.

He probably thinks that demon food is just too gross for them, which… might not be incorrect.

When they explain it to him, he will take their reasons and start searching for logical solutions.

Their medication takes away their appetite, is there something else they could try that would achieve the same medicinal effect but not affect appetite?

Or if they can't find the motivation or the will, who or what could motivate them? Do they need meals brought to them? 

Rather than forcing them to eat when they don't want to, he's going to try and find ways to make it so that they do want to eat and then let the eating part take care of itself

MC can expect books at their bedroom door and links in their inbox as Satan shares his research with them

Overall the most practical choice if MC wants a solution to their lack of appetite, if one is to be found

Asmodeus

Makes some assumptions when he sees that MC isn't really eating during lunch

"Darling, I understand that humans have odd beauty standards, but you have to know that restriction diets like that are so bad for you."

Eating enough is key to maintaining health and happiness!! 

In addition to having many rants about how having enough sleep is necessary, he also basically has pre-readied talks about self-confidence, hydration, eating enough, bathing/showering, and getting enough time outside

And he wants MC to be as healthy and happy as possible, whatever that means for them

Asmo is locked and loaded with an arsenal of compliments about MC's looks and figure and everything he loves about them, when they explain that that isn't actually the problem

It takes him a second to parse that their lack of appetite isn't because they had just eaten, that they literally just don't feel hungry, so they forget to eat

"Well… you need to eat anyway! Here!"

You cannot convince me that Asmo doesn't have a little mini-fridge for his wines and cupcakes that he likes the most to keep Beel away from them

He will present MC with a cupcake and a glass of wine while they hang out

"Yes, you have to have both, they pair so well and it would be a crime if you didn't. I would cry! You wouldn't want to make someone as pretty as me cry, would you?"

Beelzebub

Aww :( 

Sharing food time with people he loves is Beel's ultimate joy, so if he brings MC something and they don't want to chow down, it kinda hurts.

He will sulk and be confused

Also, he hasn't lacked an appetite in the longest time, so he can't relate - not until he does that body switch with Asmo, but even then, he's so hungry that he likely can't remember it

MC will probably explain it themself when they see Beel so upset.

"It isn't you - I really appreciate that you think of me enough to bring me something you like. I just don't always have an appetite."

Beel will ask a lot of questions

Are they sick? Are they hurt? Is he bringing them stuff they don't like? Is Devildom food too much for humans? 

He will increase the amount of snacks he has on his person, just in case MC ever does develop an appetite, that it could be quickly sated.

Will offer them tastes of what he's eating, since a meal is technically just a lot of little bites, right? 

And a lot of little bites of the amount of food Beel eats is a plentiful meal by human standards

Also, will pick MC up and take them to mealtime if necessary, he already does this to Belphie, so he'll just have one of them over each shoulder and plop them in their seats at the dinner table

Belphegor

His strategy is to keep MC hanging around him and Beel so that Beel's plan can go into effect

Probably has also struggled with eating enough, especially in his earlier demon days when he straight up couldn't pull himself out of bed

So whatever is causing MC's struggle with eating, he relates

Beel can and will bring MC and Belphie to food, as well as bringing food to MC and Belphie

Being friends or lovers with the twins is just a guarantee that MC will never purposefully go hungry

I'm sorry Belphie's is so short it really is just 'hey beel we have a food thing, help plz'

masterlist

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

Star Trek Discovery S3 E10

Ouch, Michael's looking extra crispy

Oooooooooof,this ain't looking good

Oh damn there's definitely some logic in Philippa's ways

Lorca is not coming, he's a dick

Philippa used to walk with Michael to a field of fireflies

Awwwwwwww, my heart she gave her some fireflies

Is Michael gonna break the jar

Oh no she's just gonna eat some bread

Opp Michael and Philippa are talking now

She says she's trustworthy but I still don't trust her

I want that table

Is that all? Really?

Ouch that's gotta hurt

Now that's all

Michael is making a false sense of security, at least it seems that way

*shrieks* PHILIPPA IS TALKING ABOUT SARU YEET

Uh oh, she told him the truth and he said she needs to leave and go back to where she's from

Uh oh

I don't trust any of the crew

Shit, Michael was giving Lorca time to gather armies, wasn't she?

The honor guard probably isn't trustworthy either

Yup she's not trustworthy

Damn, Philippa said please

Oh no, she's gonna have to kill Michael

Ah, she knew she couldn't trust Michael

YEET the Kelpien dude gas a gun! Woo!

Nooooooooo, my poor babe Philippa killed Michael

The pain in her eyes as she lays next to her

My god it hurts😭

NO

Really Carl😂

"We're old friends, remember?"

Seriously dude?

It was real 😱

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

No she's till splitting up😭

Holy shi-

CARL

WHAT

CARL?

Sarcastic Jett is back!

They're stealing power 😂

Carl's in hiding 😂

Poor Carl, he was being used

Ah, that's so clever

NOT AGAIN

It was a test to see if she'd make different choices😭

She's crying, I see the tears even if they don't shed

She's being sent back in time?

She wants Michael to come with her😭

"When you're ready, just... Walk on through." 😭😭😭😭😭😭

NO THIS CAN'T BE GOODBYE

NOOOOOOOOO

"You are my Philippa." *Falls off bed screaming*

Wait, who was San?

Philippa, seriously, who was he?

They owe it to themselves to try? AHHHHHHHHHHH!

WHO WAS SAN

PIPPA

WHO WAS SAN?!?!!?!!??!?!?!?!

"This era is different" holy shit

My chest is tight

That goodbye tho

SHE LOOKED BACK AT MICHAEL AS SHE WALKED FORWARD! OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOD

(I was freaking out so much that I just punched myself in the stomach and it hurt like hell)

She's gone😭

"My condolences. I know you will all feel her absence." *Sobs harder*

She'll never returned? She ain't deceased, I REFUSE!

Oh no, they're toasting to her😭😭

"She meant more to me than I could ever put into words." Same, girl same

Like a sister. Seriously CAN THEY NOT LET US HAVE THRM AS A SHIP, REALLY 🙄

Welp, the episode is done

GIVE ME FIC RECS BECAUSE I'M SOBBING AND NEED MORE OF PHILIPPA PLS!!!

That shit hurt and I hate it😊

(for real tho, I loved Philippa and liked the show, but it stresses tf me out and I was mostly watching it for Michelle Yeoh so I think I'm done watching it for now, since she's gone)

[whenisitenoughtrees]

to be honest, capable (of holding you) (part 3/3)

He walks forward, crouching over the snake, and when it doesn’t stir at all, he works up his courage and pokes it, just a little. Its scales are warm and smooth under his fingertip, and he resists the urge to stroke them. He doubts he could get away with that.

“Janus?” he asks, trying to keep the somewhat hysterical laughter from his voice. “That you?”

Thomas didn’t know that Janus could turn into an actual snake, but he’s glad to hang out with him regardless. More than glad; ecstatic, even, because he’s been trying to figure out how to befriend him for ages, and this seems like a good first step. What he can’t figure out is why human-Janus is being so weird about it.

(Alternatively: Janus doesn’t trust easily. He wishes he could stop trusting Thomas— it would be so much less terrifying.)

Chapter Warnings: swearing

Chapter Word Count: 6,292

Pairing: platonic Thomceit

(part 1) (part 2)

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

They still don’t talk about it. Thomas is beginning to suspect that this is causing a lot more problems than it solves. And by now, enough time has passed that it almost feels wrong to address it, any of it, feels like it’s too late, like he’s let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

So, he decides to try a different approach.

“Really?” Logan asks, raising an eyebrow. He appears entirely unimpressed, like a teacher about to explain for the millionth time that he’s not going to give out the answers to the homework.

“Yes, really,” Thomas says. “I just can’t figure him out, and I thought maybe you could help me with that.”

Logan sighs, taking a seat across from him at the dining table. He clasps his hands in front of him, folding his fingers delicately. “Very well,” he says, “if only because the matter will continue to distract you if you don’t resolve it sufficiently. Where would you like to begin?”

He frowns, tilting his chair back until the two front legs lift off the floor. “I don’t really know,” he says. “I guess I just want to know why he acts the way he does. ‘Cause he seems to have no problem approaching me as a snake, but he’s so standoffish as a human, and I can never figure out exactly what he wants from me, like, ever. He’s just… confusing, and I don’t know what to do about it, or how to talk to him.”

Logan inclines his head. “In that case, it may be prudent to reflect on how this conundrum began in the first place,” he prompts, and Thomas thinks on it, casts his mind back to that day, and the snake in the sunshine.

“That’s the first question,” he agrees. “He started coming up here for the sun, right? To be warm?”

“It is rather fascinating that he possesses so many traits of a creature that is truly cold-blooded,” Logan says. He leans forward. “It does seem to me that acquiring warmth was a primary motivation for him, at least at first. However, there is another question to be considered, which is that of why he felt the need to do so here, rather than anywhere in the mindscape. Though it is true that there are some circumstances in which it is difficult to find a simulation of sunlight, such as when the twins insist on rainy weather in the Imagination, it is by no means impossible, and he should have the capability to summon a heat source for himself. A heat lamp, for instance.”

“But instead he came up here,” he says slowly. “So, you’re saying he wanted to be here. That he wanted to be… what, near me?” The idea sounds preposterous, though all the evidence points to it being the correct conclusion. Because if Janus didn’t want to, he wouldn’t. It’s that simple.

Logan nods. “Remember, the first time he was faced with a lack of warmth both inside the mindscape and out, he immediately accepted your offer of sharing body heat. Somehow, I find it difficult to believe that he would have behaved in such a manner if no part of his motivation involved being close to you, in some way.”

“Okay, maybe,” he says. “But I still don’t get why he’s doing it like this. He always seems so embarrassed when I try to bring it up to him, like he doesn’t want to talk about it at all.”

“Oh, come on, Thomas,” Virgil says. “You can’t possibly be that oblivious.”

Thomas starts violently, a yelp escaping his throat. He nearly overbalances, nearly sends himself and the chair crashing to the floor, but he corrects himself in time, clutching at his chest as he wrests his heart rate back down to something approaching normal levels.

“Holy smokes, Virge,” he says. “A little warning, next time?”

From where he is perched on the chair between them, Virgil shrugs, looking vaguely apologetic.

“Ah, Virgil,” Logan says. “I was wondering when you were going to arrive.”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Sorry I’m late,” he snipes, not sounding sorry at all. “I was just making sure that, you know, Janus wasn’t listening to you guys talking about him behind his back. You can’t honestly think he’d be happy that you guys are having this conversation, can you?” Thomas blinks, and Virgil must sense his sudden increase in nerves, because he shakes his head. “He’s busy with Remus right now, so you don’t actually have to worry about it yet, but a little bit of caution wouldn’t kill you.”

He sounds annoyed, but not overly angry, so Thomas relaxes a bit. “Right,” he says, “sorry, Virgil. Wasn’t really thinking about that.” He pauses. “I have been wondering where you’ve been, actually. I really thought that you’d, uh, have a little bit more to say about the whole letting-Janus-basically-cuddle-with-me thing. But you’ve been kinda quiet.”

Virgil exchanges a glance with Logan, shifting in place. “Yeah, uh, you’ve got Logan to thank for that,” he says. “Look, I don’t like the guy. I probably never will. But—” He pauses, hunching his shoulders— “even I’ve got to admit that he’s not gonna hurt you, so honestly? I have a lot more problems with the things he says and tries to get you to do than the, uh. Whatever the hell this has been.”

He gestures broadly, leaning back. Despite his typical disaffected tone, there is an odd gravity to his words, and Thomas knows that there’s something he isn’t saying. But he won’t press the issue; not yet anyway. Virgil is entitled to his secrets, and though he has long speculated on what, exactly, his relationship to Janus is and was, he is content to leave it alone for now.

“Fair enough,” he says. “So, what do you mean about me being oblivious?”

Virgil raises an eyebrow. “Really? You can’t figure it out?” he asks. “Janus is the embodiment of lies and deceit, Thomas. He’s the opposite of trustworthiness.” Thomas opens his mouth to interject, since he really doesn’t see how this is relevant, or even remotely helpful, but Virgil holds up a finger, forestalling him. “And I’m not just saying that in the context of him not being trustworthy. Which he’s not, by the way, just to make that clear.”

“Yeah, no, I know exactly where you stand on this,” he mutters, and Virgil glares at him. “Sorry, sorry, please continue.”

“All I’m trying to say is that he’s got some fucking trust issues, alright?” Virgil snaps. “He’s—” He breaks off, looking away and reddening slightly. He seems to struggle with himself briefly, his face twisting into some undefinable expression: a heavy reluctance, mixed with something Thomas can’t put a name to. “He’s kinda like me, in that way. You remember how long it took me to believe you when you started telling me you actually wanted me around?”

Guilt floods him, then, the memories of how he used to treat Virgil rushing back. These past couple of years have been good, so much so that he rarely thinks back on where they started. He knows Virgil so well that it is easy to forget that he feared him, once, pushed him down and tried to ignore him rather than working with him or trying to help him.

“Virgil—”

“No, listen.” His words come insistently, once again verging on frustration, so Thomas shuts up. “I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty, or whatever. We’re past that now. We’re good. And god knows I fucking hate comparing myself to him in literally any way. But what I’m trying to say is that being a, a ‘dark side’ or whatever you want to call them, it’s not exactly conducive to believing that you care, or that you value our opinions. So even though you’ve accepted him, and you’ve started actively listening to his contributions, he probably doesn’t trust you not to, like, reverse positions, or some shit like that.”

“But Thomas hasn’t shown any desire to do so,” Logan interjects, “nor any indication that his stance will change in the future.”

“Maybe,” Virgil returns, “but Janus is self-preservation, not logic. He likes to pretend that he’s all cool and confident and rational, but he’s not. So he’s gonna act out of self-defense, no matter how stupid a move that might be.”

“You’re saying he thinks I might hurt him,” Thomas says. A strange sort of horrified numbness settles into his chest at the very thought, because that is the last thing he wants. It has always been the last thing he wants. And now, so much time has passed, and they haven’t addressed it at all, and maybe it really is too late. Because Virgil is right; it only makes sense that Deceit himself would be hesitant to trust, and he’s not sure there’s anything he can say or do to convince him otherwise. If he doesn’t trust him at this point, who’s to say he’ll ever trust him at all?

Would he be right not to?

“I’m saying he’s scared you might hurt him,” Virgil says bluntly, breaking him from his thoughts, and that’s even worse. He finds it hard to picture Janus being scared, but Janus lies as easily as breathing. What’s one more emotion to mask?

He doesn’t want Janus to be scared of him.

“I’m not sure how much sense that makes,” Logan says. “If Janus truly has the trust issues that you are describing, it wouldn’t be rational for him to seek out Thomas as much as he has. If he fears being hurt, it would be more logical to stay away, rather than actively searching for his company.”

Virgil shrugs. “Exactly.”

There is a beat of silence. Thomas looks at Logan, and has the gratification of seeing that he appears as confused as he feels.

“What?” Logan asks.

“Oh my god,” Virgil says. “Do I have to be the one to spell this out? Janus has trust issues, yeah? He’s afraid of getting close to you, because he thinks you might hurt him. But he’s been spending time with you anyway. What does that tell you?”

He furrows his brow, trying to sort through the words. There is something there, a conclusion that Virgil is attempting to lead him, to, but it’s not quite—

Oh. Wait.

“That doesn’t follow,” Logan says. “You’re saying he doesn’t trust Thomas, but now you’re trying to imply that he does?”

Virgil shrugs again, this time looking remarkably self-satisfied, a smug smile forming on his lips. “I guess,” he says. “I’m not saying it has to make sense. Trust… isn’t always based on logic. Sometimes it’s just emotions, or even just a gut feeling. Intuition. And like I said, Janus pretends not to be emotional, but at heart, he’s just as much of a dramatic theater kid as Roman is, if that tells you anything. He’ll be snarky and prickly and dickish all day long, but just because he pushes you away doesn’t mean that’s actually what he wants.”

His voice lowers at the end, becoming something soft and bitter and laced with experience. Thomas exchanges another glance with Logan, but once again decides not to force the issue. Virgil will come to him when he’s ready and not a moment before.

“So, you think that he does trust me, on some level at least,” he says, working through the information as he goes. “But not enough to approach me openly, or to talk to me about it, so maybe he doesn’t trust me not to take advantage of that trust? Or maybe he doesn’t trust me to trust him, or maybe he doesn’t trust me not to reject his trust.” He pauses, considering. “Hey, do you ever say a word so many times that it starts to lose its meaning? Trust. Trust, trust, trust. Truuuust. See? Gibberish.”

Logan exhales through his nose, sharp and pointed. “Focus, Thomas,” he says wearily, and Thomas forcibly brings his head back down to earth. “Have you come to a conclusion as to what your next step should be?”

Thomas looks at him, and then looks at Virgil. They are both staring at him, twin expressions of expectation on their faces, and his heart warms to see them like this, working together so easily, united in their purposes. Logic and Anxiety, Logan and Virgil. They really do make a good team. He doesn’t know where he would be without them.

He hopes they know that.

“Yeah, I have,” he says, and laughs. “I guess I should’ve been doing it all along. I need to talk to him.”

Logan’s face relaxes, and he nods. “There you have it,” he says. “Working through this with us is fine and good, but you’ll never be satisfied until you can figuratively ‘clear the air’ with him.” He unfolds his hands, bracing them against the table as he stands, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushes it back. “If that is all you need from me, I believe I will be on my way.”

Thomas smiles at him, helpless to do anything but. He really does love his sides. “Sure thing,” he says. “Thanks a lot, Logan.”

Logan sinks out, but Thomas is sure that a matching smile plays about his lips.

And then, he looks to Virgil, still crouched in the other chair, shoulders hunched and fingers fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie. His brow is creased, his eyes narrow, and it is a far cry from the open posture of moments before.

“You good?” he asks, and then stops to reconsider. Virgil is rarely completely good, so to speak, and clearly, there is something else on his mind now. “With all of this, I mean,” he clarifies. “I know you said that you were okay with me and Janus hanging out, but I know that there’s some kind of past between the two of you, and I. Uh. I mean, I want all of you to be happy, and that includes Janus, but that includes you, too. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable if there’s anything I can do to help with that.”

Virgil sighs, gaze shifting to meet his eyes. He looks tired all of a sudden, drained.

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot, lately,” he admits. “And yeah, when he first showed up and started doing this? I was freaked. I’m sure you felt that. Logan’s had to talk me down a lot. But I—” He hesitates, sucking in a deep breath. “I’ve realized something recently, and that’s the fact that a lot of my problems with Janus are pretty personal. Not all of them, but more than I really thought. And I don’t think it’s fair to you to push my view of him onto you when really, I’ve just been projecting my own feelings.” He shakes his head ruefully. “My private issues with him don’t necessarily mean that he never makes any good points. Maybe if I hadn’t been so against hearing him out in the first place, we could’ve avoided a lot of bullshit. So, I’m sorry. From here on out, I’m gonna try to be better about that.”

Thomas blinks. And then blinks again. He feels as though a weight has been lifted from his chest, a weight that he didn’t know was there at all. It’s only now that it’s gone that he realizes how worried he has been about this, about Virgil and Janus and the relationship between them and how he is supposed to keep them both close when their enmity is so strong.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh, wow, uh. That’s really good to hear.” His words stumble over each other, but the smile that softens his tone is completely genuine, and he hopes that Virgil picks up on that. “I’m proud of you.”

Virgil jerks, his eyes widening. Under his foundation, his cheeks flush red.

“Cool,” he says. “Um, thanks. Whatever.” He salutes, his typical two-fingered motion landing just shy of casual, and he sinks out from the chair, leaving Thomas alone at the table.

Well. Not truly alone. When is he ever? Just because he can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t present, doesn’t make them any less a part of him.

He breathes deeply, in and out, and feels more balanced than he has for a long time.

-------------

He gives it a day. A day to rest, a day to formulate a vague plan of how to go about this, of what to say. Though he now feels secure in this course of action, knows that this conversation needs to happen, he is still nervous about stepping wrongly. Janus has a temper, and more defenses than a temple from Indiana Jones, and if this meeting goes off the rails, he isn’t sure how to salvage it. Better to try to keep it running smoothly from the very beginning.

He wishes he were more confident in his ability to do that.

He sits on the couch, tries to get comfortable. His heart is beating quickly, though just as much from anticipation as from nervousness. He inhales deeply, and then stretches out his arm, motioning like he’s trying to raise someone from the floor.

“Janus?” he calls out, and stops to wait.

And then, he is there, stepping smoothly from the shadows. It’s totally unlike the way the others rise up, but it’s not like how Virgil does it, either. Virgil appears suddenly, like every jump scare in every horror movie, quick and forceful and undeniable. But Janus strides forward as if he was there all along, and something in Thomas’ mind insists that he was, that he has been there this whole time, even though he knows very well that he only just arrived.

“Thomas,” he says, voice level and collected. Looking at him now, it is difficult to believe that he was ever injured, that Thomas has seen him bleeding and shaking, that Thomas has felt him cling to him in his sleep. He appears nothing less than completely put together, gloves immaculate and hat perfectly balanced, and just for a moment, Thomas loses his nerve.

But just for a moment, and that is all.

“Hey, Janus,” he says, projecting as much confidence as he can muster. “Do you have a minute?”

Janus lifts an eyebrow, and the set of his eyes shifts, just slightly. He wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t watching, but there is a flash of— something. Dread, perhaps, though he can’t be sure, and whatever it is, it doesn’t show in his voice.

“I suppose,” he says, somehow managing to sound both agreeable and incredibly put upon, “though I am terribly busy, you know. I can’t imagine why you would assume I’d make time for you.”

As always, it takes mental gymnastics to figure out which parts he means and which parts are sarcasm, but Thomas tries not to dwell too much. He pats the couch next to him, gesturing for him to sit, and after a second of hesitation, Janus does, sinking into the cushion with a fluid, graceful motion, crossing one leg over the other. For all the world, he appears completely at ease, but Thomas isn’t convinced that’s the case. There is something in the tilt of his head, the tension in his hands, that suggests discomfort.

He hopes it’s just discomfort, and not anything stronger than that.

“Okay, well,” he says. “I’m glad you could.” He pauses, trying to figure out if there’s a delicate way to start this, but he thinks that Janus would see right through any attempt at prevarication on his part. So he soldiers ahead, bracing for the fallout, whatever that may be. “I’d like to talk to you about the snake thing that you do.”

Janus blinks, lifting his chin slightly, and Thomas can’t help but wonder if it’s a conscious decision for him. Blinking, that is. Snakes don’t blink, after all, so does that translate to his human form? Does he choose to blink? Does he have to think about it?

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific than that,” Janus says coolly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m at least partially a snake at all times, so you’ll have to tell me which ‘snake thing,’ exactly, you’re referring to.”

He sighs. “I think you know,” he says.

Janus’ shoulders stiffen minutely.

“And what about it?” he asks. “I don’t see what there is to discuss. Unless this is you asking me to stop.”

He sounds defensive, far more so than Thomas would like him to be so early in the conversation, and he struggles to quash his alarm.

“No, I’m not asking you to stop. Definitely not,” he says, meeting Janus’ eyes squarely. “I’m happy to spend time with you, Janus. And if you’re a snake during that time, then that’s completely fine. But I wanted to ask you why, I guess.” He hesitates, but Janus doesn’t interrupt, just continues to study him with wary eyes. “I mean, at first I just thought you wanted to get warm. And that’s cool! I’m one hundred percent cool with that! But the thing is, I’m pretty sure that there are other ways you could do that, if you wanted. So, I wanted to see if maybe there was another reason.”

Janus looks away at that, a scowl twisting his lips.

“Snakes are cold-blooded,” he says, his words short and clipped. “You’re a convenient source of heat, that’s all.”

Thomas has never been so sure that Janus is lying in all his life.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m not gonna push you to tell me. Not if you don’t want to. But if you do want to, you can. I really would like to know.”

And because the moment seems to call for it, he gently reaches out and places a hand on Janus’ arm. Janus’ eyes widen, and he tenses, but makes no move to pull away, so after a moment of indecision, wondering whether this touch is welcome or not, Thomas maintains the contact. After a second or two, Janus turns his head toward him again, eyes flitting back and forth between his hand and his face, and his expression is unreadable, but Thomas is fairly sure that some kind of emotion is trying to make itself known, though he can’t be sure exactly what it is. Shock, perhaps, but he doesn’t think he’s said anything too shocking, unless—

He remembers that day, Janus bleeding all over his bathroom sink, and the fading look of surprise on his face when Thomas told him that he wanted to take care of him.

And he wonders: does Janus know he can have this?

He tries to recall whether he’s ever touched Janus as a human. Besides that one incident, he doesn’t think he has. Even when he placed Janus in his own bed and sat next to him, he put distance between them, a gap that was only closed after they both fell asleep. And in the morning, Janus was gone, almost as if he was fleeing the scene, and Thomas thought it was because he was embarrassed, but what if that’s not all of it?

What if he was worried about how Thomas would react?

“Janus,” he says slowly, “you do know that I enjoy your company, right? And not just when you’re a snake. When you’re human-shaped, too.”

“Of course,” Janus says, but it’s too quick, too shaky for Thomas to even begin to believe him.

“I’m serious,” he presses. “Is that… is that why you only hang out with me when you’re a snake? Did you think I wouldn’t want to otherwise?”

Janus glances away again. “Right, because you’d definitely understand,” he mutters, and Thomas makes a negating gesture with his free hand.

“Then why don’t you help me understand?” he asks, somewhat desperately.

Janus stays quiet for a long minute, and as the silence stretches on, he fears that he’s messed it all up, somehow, that he had this one chance to connect and he blew it, made a mistake somewhere without realizing, and Janus is about to reject him and sink out and he will never have this opportunity again—

“You do realize what you’re asking of me?” Janus says softly. He still doesn’t look at Thomas. Thomas wishes he would. “An honest conversation isn’t exactly my strong suit.”

“That’s okay,” Thomas says, and Janus closes his eyes and nods. Once, sharply, almost as if to himself.

“It is about warmth,” he says. “At least partially. I’m not sure why your mind decided to assign me scientifically accurate snake traits, but—” He shrugs— “I’m more than used to it by now. I… never really needed to come up here, though. I have heating lamps of my own, and if that doesn’t suit, I can usually find a warm spot in the Imagination. But, that first day, the mindscape seemed so crowded, like I couldn’t find a moment’s peace. So I decided to try up here instead. I told myself that if you spotted me, I would leave.”

“But I did,” Thomas says. “And you didn’t.”

“I was dozing. You caught me off guard, and then… to be frank, I didn’t expect you to let me stay,” Janus admits, and Thomas feels a pang at the confirmation. “But then you did, so I kept doing it, and it became a routine.”

He nods. So far, there have been no surprises. He remembers all of this very well.

“And then there was that rainy day,” he prompts, and Janus winces slightly, his eyes sliding back open, staring out into the living room, unfocused.

“Yes,” he agrees, whisper-soft, and Thomas leans forward to hear him better. “I knew it was foolish of me to stay here when I could have just as easily gone to my room and been warm there. But I didn’t want to.”

The last sentence carries the weight of a confession.

“Why is that?” Thomas asks. He barely dares to let the words pass his lips. Even now, when Janus is clearly trying to open up to him, he is still scared of saying the wrong thing, of making him clam up again, pull away.

Slowly, Janus uncrosses his legs, letting his hands splay out against his legs. For a moment, Thomas’ eyes are drawn to the contrast, yellow on black.

“I—” Janus pauses, his expression pinched. He shakes his head. “In the mindscape, it’s somewhat difficult to ensure a moment of solitude. It’s quieter up here, and even besides, that, I—” He cuts off suddenly, a violent shiver running through him, so intense that it almost seems like a convulsion.

“You?” Thomas prompts, trying not to show his worry. But Janus refuses to reply, and as Thomas watches, he slowly brings a hand up to cover his own mouth, an unsettling parody of when he silenced the others. And something in Thomas’ heart breaks to see it, to see this, to see the way Janus retreats into himself, the way he presses his hand against his face as if trying to hold back a flood.

The posture reminds him of something. The posture reminds him of Virgil. Of Virgil, anxious and afraid of judgment, and Thomas never really expected that from Janus, but he remembers thinking, way back when this first started, about how Janus and Virgil are alike. And that thought gives him the courage to continue, because he knows how to get through to Virgil when he gets lost in his head, so maybe he can get through to Janus, too.

So, he reaches out. One hand still rests on Janus’ arm, but he gently curls the other around Janus’ wrist, though he doesn’t try to pull his hand from his face, not yet.

“You don’t need to do that,” he says. “You can tell me. I swear, I won’t betray your trust.”

Janus’ face spasms, and gently, Thomas guides the hand down from his jaw. The skin around his mouth is red from the force of his grip, except for where the scales glitter, and his lips are drawn into a thin line, pressed together tightly. But there is something shining in his eyes, something that Thomas can’t interpret.

“Won’t you?” Janus asks. It should be a challenge, but it isn’t, not quite, because it’s not nearly aggressive enough for that, not nearly as aggressive as it was probably intended to be. There is a quietness in the words, a sort of defeat, and all of that is mixed with an odd desperation, like Janus thinks he knows the answer but wants to hear it anyway. “You hardly have a reason not to.”

Thomas is beginning to wonder if they’re having the same conversation here.

“No,” he says. “I know this isn’t easy for you. But I do have a reason not to, and that reason is that I care about you.” He wants to scrub a hand down his face, to let a bit of his frustration show, but doing so would mean letting go of Janus, either his arm or his hand, and he doesn’t want to do that yet. “Look, I get that trust is hard. And I’m not asking for anything that I haven’t earned. But what I do earn, I’m not going to abuse. I promise you, Janus.”

Janus shudders at the sound of his name.

“Can you promise that?” he asks.

And Thomas does the only thing he can think to do and draws him in for a hug.

“Yes,” he says, resting his chin on Janus’ shoulder. “Yes, I can promise that.”

Janus freezes up, and for a moment, it’s like hugging a stone statue. But Thomas holds him close, so close that he can feel his heartbeat beneath all his layers, beating rabbit-quick and scared, and he doesn’t let him go, and incrementally slowly, Janus melts into his embrace, inch by inch, as if he’s fighting it, fighting himself.

“It’s about safety,” he murmurs, and Thomas has to strain to hear him. “I feel safe, with you.”

“I’m glad,” he replies, and hopes that Janus can hear just how much he means it. “I’m really glad. But why do you feel like you have to hide that?”

Janus doesn’t answer, but Thomas thinks he can guess. Virgil’s voice still rings in his ears, reminding him of how long he’s pushed the dark sides away, how long it has taken for him to acknowledge them as parts of him at all, much less important parts, parts deserving of respect in their own right. Really, what reason does Janus have to assume that Thomas won’t hurt him, won’t shove him to the side, back down into the dark? Why would Janus discard his caution in favor of trust when it has taken so very long for Thomas to be receptive to him at all?

Janus conceals so much, all the time. It’s a part of his function. So how can Thomas possibly expect him to admit what he truly wants?

“It frightens me,” Janus whispers suddenly, and Thomas pulls his attention back to the present, startled. “I never allow myself to trust anyone, and yet… I want to be close to you. I always have, I suppose, but I never really expected it to be possible. I never expected it to be a problem—”

“Whoa, hey, no,” Thomas says, because he definitely needs to cut off that line of thinking right away. He pulls away from Janus, gripping him by both shoulders and holding him in front of him so he can make eye contact. “Your feelings aren’t a problem. You feeling safe isn’t a problem, and it never will be, you hear? The only thing that’s a problem is that I refused to accept you for so long, and I’m trying to fix that now. But that’s not your fault.”

He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. When he speaks again, he keeps his voice low and measured and as sincere as possible, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of Janus’ face.

“I know we don’t know each other that well,” he says. “I know there’s a lot about you that I don’t understand. But I’ve really liked spending time with you these past couple months, and not because you’re a snake. You don’t need to be a snake to spend time with me. You’re not intruding, or, or bothering me, or whatever. I want to hang out with you, no matter what shape you’re in.” He smiles wryly. “Really, the only reason I didn’t say so sooner was because I wasn’t sure what was going on, or if maybe you actually didn’t want to be around when you’re, uh, human-shaped. But, Janus, I really mean it. I want to get to know you better. I want to be friends. There’s no conditions attached to that.”

He pauses.

“You’re always welcome to be close to me,” he says. “Always.”

They stay like that for a moment, like time has frozen around them, frozen this moment, and Thomas scarcely dares to breathe. Either this was the right thing to say, or it wasn’t, and he can only hope for the former and not the latter, because there is no taking it back. He’s spoken his mind and his heart with nothing less than complete sincerity, and he couldn’t renege on that even if he wanted to.

Janus makes a choked noise, and then, with one gloved hand, reaches out and snags Thomas’ shirt. And he pulls himself close, tucking himself against Thomas’ chest, burying his face into his shirt. His hat slides off his head and to the ground, but he doesn’t seem to notice, or care if he does. His shoulders are shaking, and Thomas can feel the growing dampness of the fabric against his skin, but he doesn’t say anything, because he’s said all that needs to be said. He knows it, and he thinks that Janus knows it, and he hopes that now, Janus will finally, finally be able to believe him.

So Thomas just wraps his arms around him, and holds him steady.

------------

It’s movie night. It’s movie night, and Thomas is feeling good, great, even, because there are no pressing deadlines or moral crises, and he’s making popcorn in the kitchen, a soft blanket draped over his shoulders while he listens to everyone affably bicker in the living room. And that’s what it is: bickering, not arguing, not fighting. Roman is advocating for Disney, surprise surprise, while Virgil is groaning about how “that’s literally all you ever want to watch,” and Patton is chiming in with a desire to watch something with animals, anything really, he’s not all that picky, and Thomas can’t help but smile as he walks in to join them.

Logan is the only one not particularly invested in the conversation, and he greets him with a nod. Thomas hands him the popcorn bowl, trusting him not to make a mess of it, and settles against his side. The others pile in in short order, Patton on the floor and leaning against his legs, Virgil tucked into his other side, and Roman dramatically splaying himself out along the rest of the couch and putting his head in Virgil’s lap.

Remus is here too, behind the couch. Thomas has told him that he’s free to join in if he puts some clothes on, and though Remus swiftly turned him down, there was an odd gleam in his eye that told Thomas to expect a change in the future.

“Was Janus going to join us?” Logan asks, voice barely audible over the sound of the others’ discussion, which has continued uninterrupted, entirely too intense for something as simple as picking a movie to watch.

Thomas grins at him, and lifts the blanket so he can see Janus, draped across his shoulders. Janus lifts his head and flickers his tongue out at Logan, but makes no move to leave or hide. Virgil glances over briefly and frowns, but doesn’t comment, giving Thomas a short nod.

“The Lion King it is!” Roman bursts out, and Thomas settles in.

They watch The Lion King, and when that’s done, Virgil insists on Hocus Pocus, and it’s getting late after that, but Patton quietly asks for Princess and the Frog, and even though Thomas can tell that everyone is close to nodding off, he puts the disk in and lets it play. His own eyelids are drooping before Tiana even meets Naveen, and he is close to falling asleep before Janus begins to shift in place, rousing him a bit.

And suddenly, Janus is in his lap, human-shaped, snuggling up against his chest with a sigh of contentment. Thomas adjusts automatically, shuffling so that everyone can stay comfortable. Virgil mutters something along the lines of, “Get your damn snaky elbow out of my face,” but his sleepiness undercuts any venom the words might have.

“You good, buddy?” Thomas murmurs, too tired to say much of anything else.

Janus hums, taking off his hat and casting it to the ground before tucking his head under Thomas’ chin.

“Shhhhut up and go to ssssleep,” he slurs, and Thomas smiles.

Besides the movie still playing on-screen, the living room is dark. But before Thomas closes his eyes, he thinks he sees Remus staring at him, thinks he inclines his head in… what, approval? And then he is gone, and Thomas doesn’t think too much more about it.

Because he has Janus, and he has all the rest of his sides here, gathered around him, at peace, and all is well with the world.

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