#i also can’t express how desperate i am to make more designs but i need some extra dollars first so …

[oldbutchdaniel]

long live the king! and the other king!

roman | kendall

[lunaastoir]

fluff/relationships w the mondstadt crew

characters included: diluc, kaeya, and jean

gn! reader as always <3

tw: fluff??? domesticity??? crack??? ideal relationships w people who will never be real??? also mentions of alcohol!

an: so i’m back w a sequel to my “fluff/relationships w the liyue crew” since you guys seemed to really like it <3 thank you my heart is literally melting 😩 this post was getting too long so i excluded some of the characters but expect a part. 2 (more like part 3 but part 2 to the mondstadt version)! 

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diluc

man. this MAN.

that’s it, that’s the headcanon. 

he would literally be the most doting lover in the softest ways

SUCH a soft romantic like you thought you knew love??? nah this man will show you what love is

will constantly leave you things around the winery to convey his silent thank you’s and appreciation for you putting up with him being busy for most of the day

it’s always the most thoughtful things ever too like-

you mentioned how nice it would be to have some fresh lemonade with the hotter weather outside but it was too late in the day to actually go to the market in search of fresh lemons 

the next day you walked downstairs only to be greeted with a pitcher of cool lemonade with a side of lemon bars

there was a note attached to the handle of the pitcher <3 

“i recall you mentioning how lemonade would be perfect for the warmer weather so i decided to make some for you this morning. i hope it’s still cool by the time you drink it. love, d” 

pls sir your hand in marriage

he secretly loves it when you usher him to bed after waking up in the dead of night to see him working by candlelight on reports 

soft hands on his cheeks gently whispering about how, it’s been far too long and come to bed, darling and there will be time for this in the morning

his protests are light given the dark purple hues under his crimson eyes but he’ll still make a little fuss 

don’t let this man fool you tho he’s so so touched that you care enough to check up on him and drag him to bed!!

sometimes on the days he has a bit more free time, the two of you will quickly grab your dinners and race to the highest spot in the winery to watch the setting sun

these moments are always filled with laughter, something you’ve found you’re easily able to pull out of diluc, simply because it’s you 

uncontrollable sobbing

he would let you paint his nails black like the angsty man he is 

frankly he would let you do anything to him if it makes you happy <3 

ok but wait diluc w bLACK NAILS?? AND RINGS??? i would die on the spot ⚰️

on the topic of makeup, this man is surprisingly really good w it 

i like to think he learned after practicing on kaeya when they were younger bc kaeya was really into makeup

you found out after babysitting klee one day and trying failing to draw eyeliner on the sweet girl after her “big brother ‘bedo!”

you hastily grabbed some wipes, gently wiping off the messed up design before attempting to dive back in 

diluc however, had some down time so he decided to check up on his favorite chaotic duo 

only to be met with a pile of dirtied makeup wipes, your frustrated expression, and klee’s growing jitteriness 

swiftly moving to your side, he quietly asked if you needed help 

you glanced up quizzically before handing him the eyeliner, already looking around to find more makeup wipes when this inevitably goes wrong 

to your utter surprise tho the eyeliner is perfect??? two perfect winged lines??? in less than a minute??? WHAT

you just stood there like 😦 before diluc got back up and handed you the eyeliner 

you were short-circuiting, klee was ecstatic, diluc was worried about you 

ok last thing abt diluc 

crack! warning but the both of you like lowkey pranking kaeya 

for diluc it’s revenge on his annoying brother; for you it’s good - natured sibling rivalry fun 

every time the two of you see kaeya, one of you always swipes something of his 

small things really, it could be a pen or a handkerchief

one time, diluc swiped kaeya’s spare eyepatch and from the looks of it, kaeya’s only spare black eyepatch bc he was frantically looking for it yk he’s desperate when he even asked diluc if he saw it

the two of you spent an hour nearly laughing your asses off 

all in all, life w him is so sweet 

kaeya

pretty boy? pretty boy. 

while i can’t guarantee stability, life would never be boring w this man that’s for sure

piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 

he LOVES it, the feel of you on his back while he’s walking around mondstadt most likely carrying you to your commission 

he finds it comforting especially since he can hear the rumble of your voice against him while you recount stories, or just babble on about everything under the sun 

he is SO dramatic so obviously when y’all reach the site of the commission he has to kill all the monsters even tho the both of you agreed to split it up evenly 

he makes quick work of his set before stealing some of yours much to your chagrin 

you scold him but can you really be mad at him when he looks drop dead gorgeous freezing the hilichurls the answer is no, no you cannot be

oh my god ok wait-

he does this thing where he tries to spook you in public 

so say you’re getting groceries at the mondstadt general store

you round the corner just minding your own business, looking around, taking in the sunshine 

and suddenly you just hear someone drop in behind you but before you can register anything you hear a soft “boo” and hands circle your waist 

you jump SIKE let’s be honest you shrieked 

meanwhile kaeya’s just laughing his ass off 

you can hear his rich peals of laughter while you attempt to regain your bearings 

he does this so often you SHOULD be used to it but you really aren’t bc mans is SNEAKY-

he cards his fingers in your hair whenever you’re speaking 

he doesn’t know why, it’s just a cute habit and he finds the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing

oH on the topic of comfort, kaeya really likes resting two fingers on the back of your neck???

ik he seems like the type to throw his arm around your shoulder which yes he totally is but during more serious conversations his hand automatically seeks out the warmth of your neck 

your neck feels amazing especially during the warmer months due to his chilly fingers contrasting with your warm skin  

he likes that he’s able to access such a vulnerable part of you and you would willingly let him 

HE GETS YOU MATCHING OUTFITS

no i will NOT take criticism on this i just kNOW he’s that type of guy

it would be those stupid “i’m his” and “they’re mine” sweatshirts like BYE 

it’s so cringy but for some reason it’s oddly adorable and you truly despise it but you can’t seem to say no whenever he asks 

you pretend to ignore the look of pity diluc throws your way whenever he sees you like this

kaeya really loves accessories so i think he would be the type to give you a promise ring or something similar to show that he truly does care for you 

he would brush it off, flirting a little like usual before handing you the ring 

with the way his cheeks softly darken though, you know he’s being genuine 

TICKLE FIGHTS ik i mentioned this for childe but shhhh

he has tickle fingers??? his hands just loOK like they’re itching to tickle someone so you’ll most likely be the unfortunate victim 

he will not show you mercy. at all. he’ll tickle you until there are tears streaming from your eyes, your face is hot, and your voice is hoarse from laughing so damn hard 

it gives him such a rush of serotonin its SO CUTE 

i feel like this goes without saying but he’s super into pda,,, anything and everything is on the table 

hand holding? duh. ass grabs? ofc. carrying you bridal style around mondstadt? why not 

ik he’s typically very playful but once the relationship reaches a certain stage, he’ll slowly start to let down the walls that surround his facade 

very very slowly show you the more realistic parts of him 

the real, damaged pieces of his soul 

he’ll be carefully monitoring your reaction though, any sign of fear or disgust will have him recoiling within himself again and you most likely will never see his true nature ever again 

SO BE CAREFUL 👹

once you’ve seen the parts of him he’s offered to you, the hushed whispers of his past, and the uncertain lines of his future, he will take off his eyepatch 

pretends like he’s not super nervous but he’s SWEATING- 

the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen though hands down 

you can understand why he covers it up but you would like it if he felt comfortable enough to take off the eyepatch occasionally when he’s with you 

also!!! sleeps with his eyepatch side facing you (in the event he wears it to bed) 

if this happens you KNOW he trusts you bc it’s his blindside <3 

anyways life w kaeya will never be boring but he is a very complicated man 

stay with him though, i promise it’ll be worth it 

jean

the key to jean’s heart is coffee and food 

GET HER COFFEE AND FOOD

i am begging you she deserves it 😭

the poor woman works so hard bc the knights are so mf understaffed, this is literally the best way you can ever show her your love and appreciation when she has work

she will MELT if you have a hot shower and dinner waiting for her when she inevitably returns later than she promised

will completely refuse at first with, “you did not have to do this, it’s too much” but shush her as you shOULD bc she deserves the entire world 

she’s the definition of “you do something for me, i’ll return the favor ten times grander”

you leave a flower on her desk bc it reminded you of her??? you’ll wake up to find a whole bouquet of the prettiest windwheel asters you’ve ever seen the next morning along with a thank you note

she’s so sweet BYE

she gets flustered extremely easily so you obviously use this as an opportunity to tease her 

when you’re in public rest your hand on her waist and inch it higher until your hand is underneath her shirt and in contact with her warm skin 

she’ll actually short-circuit its quite adorable 

sometimes y’all will be cuddling and you’ll hear whispers of her insecurities 

“am i a good grand master? will i ever be as valiant as vanessa?”

reassure her!!! tell her that she doesn’t need to be like vanessa, she’s already amazing as jean 

if you haven’t seen her in awhile, track her down and schedule a lunch date 

she never misses appointments and if it’s for you, she’ll gladly make time to see you even if she has to stay up even later than usual 

OH-

GIVE HER MASSAGES 

she has so much tension and the sorest muscles from hunching over papers and running around on errands 

if you sneak into her office and quietly stand behind her before gently pushing down on the sore tendons of her neck, she’ll genuinely fall over on her desk 

so make sure you steady her 😀

after you feel how tight her muscles are though, you drag her to barbara bc she needs a healer asap 😭

while most of your time is spent in her office - you helping out in the ways you can while jean is overseeing knight duties - you still have your fair share of life outside of the favonius headquarters

jean never likes to sit still so whenever you have free time, the both of you head off looking for monsters to clear

bouken da bouken???

adventuring w jean is seriously the funnest thing you could ever do 

it’s just non-stop you accidentally getting into trouble and her having to come help you 

even tho the both of you are dead tired after fighting, what? 20 hilichurl camps now??? the laughter and joy in your eyes shows how you both truly loved every minute of it

it’s both a stress reliever, good fun, and a work-out <3

you’re definitely prone to getting dragged to angel’s share w kaeya 

kaeya and jean sometimes hang out after work at the tavern so inevitably you’re dragged along too 

all three of you are drunk out of your minds which just makes everything a MILLION times funnier 

kaeya slurring over his words makes the two of you start cackling endlessly while diluc just shakes his head making sure to not give you more wine despite your pleas 

angel’s share ft. kaeya and bartender diluc are always the best times fr fr 

life with her literally feels like y’all are married 

so much domesticity it’s so NICE ALJDKSFH

your house is always so clean and the color scheme is impeccable bc jean has such a good eye 

you have a chore schedule 😎 but it almost never works out bc jean ends up doing everything without you knowing- 

you always confront her abt it and she’s like 😁 “i had some time so i did them! no worries tho” like i- time??? where bitc-

oH- she has amazing style so you can bet shopping w her is literally the best experience 

she takes you to all of the hidden gems some places lisa recommended and helps you pick out things 

will 100% get really blushy if you come out in something and ask her for her opinion tho she’s literally the cutest

basically jean is a sweet girl who deserves the entirety of teyvat that is all. 

thanks for reading! if you have any requests don’t hesitate to send them in <3 

[theminecraftbox]

That would actually be a pretty fitting interaction for the Dream XD approved therapy session, like, he hears someone say ‘you need to confront your past in order to conquer it’ and he waves his hand to make their past selves appear.

p!Quackity looking at himself like: “YOU FUCKING TORTURE PEOPLE!?! WHAT’S YOUR DAMAGE???”

p!Sam, disappointed with himself: “Dude, you had ONE job.”

No clue about p!Dream though. I personally don’t believe that he would be disgusted with himself, my favourite thing has always been is how he never makes decisions he ‘regrets’ (Which is also why I adore the way you write him ❤️). Other than that though? No idea. I can’t imagine anything beyond him frowning at his future self obviously having taken more hits than expected.

/rp dsmp

The funny thing is that, yeah, I think past!Quackity would be by far the most likely to express horror at his future self, and past!Sam would be the least. Past!Quackity who hasn’t experienced nearly as much pain and loss and desperation does not have the emotional need to rely on violence and cruelty the way that present!Quackity does, and finds this future version of himself to be in many ways a stranger. Past!Sam would find it really hard to think of any version of himself as something other than a good guy, a good friend and a good citizen.

Past!Dream? It all depends on how far back you go, and crucially, it depends on how informed their past selves are about the reasons their future selves have done what they did.

I think that an early s1 Dream would be pretty horrified by everything that’s happened, but I’m not sure if that would translate into horror at present!Dream or not. It’s really hard to gauge! If he knows all about the Plan Tm and understands the reasoning, past!Dream might see the reasons and agree with them, but also might be of the opinion “damn but you did a terrible job to let things get to THIS point.” I think past!Dream would be extremely critical of present!Dream’s mistakes, and perhaps even his overall design, in a way that present!Dream cannot permit himself to be. For present!Dream (and for present!Quackity too) it’s a “Look back, and I am lost” type deal. Sunk costs. But past!Dream has no such qualms and can rip the hell out of his logic and missteps.

[artxyra]

The Story Of How Marinette Became Mamie Mars

Marinette had been in the Bahamas enjoying her vacation when she received the phone call. It was Bruce. Upon hearing her son’s, in everything but blood, voice, she had sat up on her lounge chair and swing her legs to the side. 

Bruce couldn’t speak coherently. That’s how much he had worried her. It’s not often that she would get a call from a panicking Bruce, especially on her vacation. 

“Brucie, honey, calm down and speak clearly.” Her voice was sweet enough to calm her son down. “Is Alfred nearby you?” She asks, knowing that her son’s surrogate father would be close. Then again, Alfred was scheduled for his vacation soon. 

“No, he’s tending the reason why I’m calling you. I may or may not have taken in a ward.” Bruce tells her, sounding off. 

The words slowly register in her mind. 

“I have a grandchild.” She squeals, so glad that she was sitting down instead of standing up. It’s already embarrassing that her squeal reached the others at the beach. Had she been standing, she would be dancing along with the squeal had she been standing up. “Oh Bruce, tell me about them? How are they adjusting?” 

“That’s the problem, mom! I have no clue what to do. Can you come home? I rather explain all this to you in person rather than on the phone.” She can sense the longing and desperation in his voice. It warms her heart that he still needs her. 

“Of course, I’ll be on the next flight out of here. Is there anything else that you want to talk about?” 

Bruce murmurs a yes. And they go into a discussion more about business rather than the newest Wayne addition.  

As Marinette books a plane ticket for the last flight of the night, she couldn’t help but think about her son’s ward. Never have Bruce expressed any thought about having children due to him being Batman. Though, she herself has thought about taking in another child. However, Marinette’s ability to have her body age slowly has been a blessing and a curse and keeps her from going through with it. It’s a blessing because she has a chance to look younger and experience more but it’s a curse as it means that she’ll live longer and see the people she cares about dying before her. 

Nearly six hours after booking her flight, she is on a three-hour flight to New Jersey. Her vacation ended the second her butt touched the seat of the plane. It was a lovely time off from everything in Gotham, her ever-growing business dubbed Miracles Designs & Crafts, and her duties as the guardian of the Miraculous, but family always comes first. 

“Alfred! It’s so good to see you again.” Marinette wraps her arms around the man. He returns the hug. 

“I as well, Miss Marinette.” He responds once the embrace ends, taking her bags and loading them into the car. Marinette pouts; she could have done it herself, but she doesn’t say a word. 

The drive was sweet as the two begins to catch up. Alfred enjoyed hearing about her adventures outside of the United States. Though, he fears what Bruce will say about her travel to Tibet. 

“So, tell me Alfred, what are your thoughts on our son’s ward?” She inquires, looking out the window. The sky never changes in Gotham, but it certainly is a vast difference from the sunshine and clear skies that she was experiencing in the Bahamas. 

“He’s determined.” Alfred states with a glance at her in the rear window. Marinette nods and continues to look out the window. 

Meeting her grandchild could have gone many ways, but him winging on the chandelier was not something she was expecting. He seemed to be mourning, like him swinging on the chandelier was holding him together. 

Bruce sends the boy a quick word then escorts her to the living room. The second the door closes, Bruce breaks down what happened. The boy’s name is Richard Grayson, but he likes to go by Dick. Of course, Marinette gasps upon hearing that, as she has never been around a person who calls themselves Dick. And that he was a part of the circus with his family until their demise. Dick has no family outside of the circus. There was also a chance that he’ll be the target for a mob boss. 

After hearing the basics of Dick’s situation, all she wanted to do was hug the boy and give him lots of love. The same as she has done for Bruce. 

“When can I officially meet my grandson?” She questions with a smile on his face. Bruce rubs the back of his neck and sends her a sheepish smile. Wrapping his arms around his surrogate mother, he guides her towards the double doors. 

“Hi, I’m Marinette, but you can call me Mamie, if you want.”

Dick looks up at her, swaying in place, “Mamie?”

Marinette chuckles. “It’s one of the French versions of saying grandma.” 

“Cool, but you don’t look like you’re old enough to be a grandma.” Behind them, Bruce fails at holding in a chuckle. Marinette purses her lip and keeps her eyes on Dick, even though she wanted to send her son a glare. 

“Yeah, I do, but don’t be fooled. I practically raised Bruce since he was eight. Now, what do you like to do for fun?” She nudges him to talk about himself, hoping that it will help from sending him down a mourning spiral. 

Bruce disappears after that, hunting down the person that sabotaged the tightrope and giving Dick his closure. 

Once Dick is asleep, Marinette finds herself in the cave, watching her son’s nonstop researching process. 

“You know spending time with Dick would really make him feel welcome.” Marinette pulls up a seat and sits beside him. 

“I can’t.  Zucco is out there, and if I can’t find him before he leaves Gotham…” Bruce trails off, turning his attention back to the screen. 

Marinette shakes her head, “At least try and get to know Dick before you do something stupid. There’s only so much that I can do, but I wasn’t the one that took him in, Bruce.” Marinette turns to Alfred and gestures her head towards Bruce. 

“I saw that, mom.” Marinette scoffs then gets out of her seat. “I promise that I’ll hang out with Dick before all this is over.” 

“And somehow, that doesn’t make me feel that much better. He’s your problem now, Alfie.” Marinette takes her to leave, grabbing a cup of tea from Alfred before leaving the Batcave.  

“Joy.” Alfred sighs, but there was an underlying hint of love there. 

Life with Dick in the household was an interesting transition, especially for Marinette. Usually, when she's here, it’s silent, as Bruce is either working as Batman or being for Wayne Enterprise. The only sounds were her and Alfred talking during their afternoon tea sessions. With Dick, the manor is full of laughter and ambitious feet, running around; practically, Mimicking the sounds of the past. 

With Marinette in the house, Dick didn’t feel so alone. Even though he didn’t have it in him to call Bruce dad yet, he'd definitely called Marinette Mamie on more than one occasion. When it first happened, she cried. Poor Dick, he thought she was upset or something. That day, she took them out for ice cream and to the gymnasium. 

Marinette did not hide her disdain when Dick became Robin. There were a lot of baked goods in the kitchen from her stress baking. It got so bad that Alfred had to ban her from the kitchen. 

Of course, once she did become comfortable with the idea of Dick out crime-fighting, she places strict rules in place so that Dick wasn’t out late at night on a school day or dealing with highly classed villains. Marinette had her fair share of fighting crime as a child, and she did not want to place that down on Dick. 

On top of that, she refused to have Dick going out at night in underwear in the name of pants. That was a big no-no in this household. 

Bonus: 

“Mamie Mars, has there ever been a time you benched Bruce?” Dick asks one day while Marinette was helping him with his homework. 

Marinette thinks for a moment. “Yes, it was within his first year of being Batman, actually. He challenged me and you know how I am when challenge, Dickie. Gotham was without their hero, excuse me, vigilante for about a month. Ladybird sure had a fun time in his stead.” She chuckles at the memory, causing Dick’s eyes to widen. He quickly finishes the rest of his homework.

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Masterlist | Maribat Masterlist | Tagging System |

*THIS STORY COLLECTION WILL NOT HAVE A TAG LIST, PLEASE DO NOT ASKED TO BE TAGGED.*

[morganas-pendragons]

Halo Episode 6

i spent more of this episode cheering for john then i did paying attention. enjoy the meta!

First and foremost, hats off to Natascha and Pablo for this episode. It’s very very rare for me to find new favorite actors so quickly - but the more I see with Natascha’s portrayal of Halsey, the more I just absolutely love her. You can’t tell me that screaming wasn’t so raw that it just cut you to the core. 

And don’t even get me going about Pablo. That man is SERIOUSLY underrated and the way he’s playing with John’s anger is PALPABLE through everything he’s done regarding body language and facial expressions. 

As someone going into mental health/trauma, it’s STELLAR. Chef’s kiss!

I am really not into whatever they’re doing with Cortana. The only thing I can chalk that up to is her not really developing her own autonomy because of how young she is and solely being Halsey’s puppet until she realizes she needs to be there for John in a way she doesn’t recognize yet. 

CASE IN POINT: 

  “Who do you work for? Me or Halsey?” 

  “I’m not designed to make that choice.” 

Also.. the way she looks at him when she calls him John? KILLED ME. 

That entire opening scene and the transition? ART. 

Kai’s screaming? The Spartan’s discomfort with seeing their sibling in pain? MAJESTIC. 

We get to see more of John’s memories of augmentation and how deeply that cuts through to him and Kai both. This show is giving us the internal conflict with the Spartans and how everything they’ve ever come to know is false, which I think is fascinating. 

Is it a fool’s hope to wish for Noble Team to get introduced if the show goes long enough to hit Halo Reach’s game? Or the same time during it? Because I would die if I got to see Noble 6 or Carter in live action. 

the ending scene was.. just.. wow. it’s so interesting to watch them discover the halo ring in such a contrary way to the games i grew up playing. it was beautiful. 

The best part of the entire episode - and the main reason why i spent so much of it cheering - is the look Halsey gives Paragonsky when she gets kicked out and her daughter gets to take her place. That looks screams “the audacity you have...” That was CLEVER. And extremely funny to watch her get put in time out. 

Also, for your consideration: 

John in armor = hot 

John in the undersuit = hot 

John in general - hot

Also speaking of John, man is dying. Like actually dying. He’s dying and critical enough to begin hallucinating Kwan but nobody but Cortana noticed? Not to mention no one forced him into medical? 

Said man is also desperate and stupid enough to touch the artifact AGAIN despite the fact HE IS LITERALLY DYING. 

There’s so much to talk about here but like.. Halsey in her apartment with her trinkets kinda made me sad. She really thought she was doing the best for humanity and completely neglected the ramifications of her decisions. For all of her decisions. And for about three seconds I really thought that after last episode she was going to try to reconcile with her child, but then that snake STRAIGHT UP MANIPULATED HER BLOOD CHILD TO BE ABLE TO SPY ON HER KIDNAPPED CHILD? 

HELLO!!?!!??!?!!?!?

Also, Miranda seeing right through her was both sad and funny at the same time. Like... Mom doesn’t even need to try, she just knows. 

Also.. 

  “Saving humanity at the cost of your own??” 

Wow. What a line. 

But what I really want to hit on is two things in particular: Makee and John, and Miranda and John. 

That scene at the start where she tells him they’re the same? Pay attention to the way the camera zooms inward to focus on their facial expression. Makee has gone all this time basically being the hand of the prophets and thinking she was the only ‘’blessed one’’ so imagine her shock and awe when she finds out there’s another? 

That’s what we see from her. Shock and awe. Finally, someone who GETS it. 

And then there’s John. John, who is going through an identity crisis, gets told there’s another one of him and he doesn’t know how to respond to that on top of everything else that’s already been going on. 

So what does he do? 

He flees. Fight or flight, and he chose flight. Out of fear. 

Considering the end scene, I do get why some of you ship the two of them. That’s probably the direction they’re going to take and I am, quite frankly, dreading it. I have always been someone who absolutely despises when TV shows put a couple together that have either a.) no chemistry or b) just met. It makes no sense to me to make John and Makee a couple when there’s literally no shared history there. Sure, their vitals aligned and they were both present on the Halo once John stopped fighting it, but I’d 100% rather take them being related over them being canon. 

Please, Paramount. Spare me. Let me enjoy John as an individual rather then a ship. I’ve had too many favorite males be reduced to half of a ship only to get killed off. 

Secondly -- MIRANDA. Guys, the games NEVER gave this girl a character arc and gave her what I still believe to this day to be the most out-of-nowhere death in the Halo franchise. At least for me. I remember gasping when I played it in 2007 because I was caught so off guard by how sudden it was. 

They’re giving her her own story!! Which I dig so hard!! The entire sequence where she gets her own lab, which was her mother’s lab, was FANTASTIC. It was so cute to watch her basically go ‘’look at me dad - not you mom - i finally made it!!” 

And not to mention the eventual friendship with John because - GASP - there’s so many freaking similarities between the two of that I could write AN ENTIRE BOOK ABOUT IT. 

if i talk any more i will never shut up so yes enjoy this when it queues at 8 am LOL 

[omiscurls]

Heyhey! I couldn’t find your rules, so idk if this is allowed or not, and if it isn’t feel free to ignore this, but may I request Childe with a reader who has depression? Thank you

tough

a/n: hi!! sorry for that, the rules are added by now, i chose not to describe depression itself, because it looks different on everyone, and you may not relate to what applies to me, but i'm hoping you'll find this enjoyable instead!!

plot: character helping the reader out of a breakdown, or a bad headspace

contains: tartaglia, kaeya

warnings: bad copying mechanisms, low mental place, nothing too serious mentioned

tartaglia

now, he's a man of action less than words, even though he's good with those, too

and to add to that, he's also a very perceptive person - if some negative vibe lingers on you for too long, he'll notice right away

however, relying on his experience, he opts to give you space to figure it out on your own, first, he wouldn't like to be making a huge deal of something that was just a worse couple of days

it's when you don't show up at your usual dinner spot, that he gets a little tingle in his brain, telling him to not dismiss it this time.

and so, he makes his way over to your place.

"ya there?" you hear on the other side of the door, followed by urgent knocking, sort of breaking you out of a trance, but you can't find it in you to go and answer it. he'll go away, you think, even better. your apartment is messy, you're messy, too, and it's not the right time to be receiving visitors. so you stay quiet.

"you do know i know you're in there, right?" he speaks up again "the blinds would be down if you weren't"

come in, you want to shout, and although no voice leaves your throat, soon the door opens anyway.

"hey, what's up, you weren't on the- oh." he stops in his tracks in the middle of the corridor, and you're already mentally prepared to a snarky remark about your sorroundings, but the only thing he says is a lighthearted "why're you sitting on the floor?"

the first thing he thinks about is to level with you, so he plops himself down right beside you, and you bet it looks funny - you in yesterday's clothes, in a big, probably smelly, mess, and then a harbinger in full military outfit right beside you.

"i-" you try to say, but your throat seems too dry and worn out, so you opt for a whisper "look at his place"

he indeed does, hinting the small note of desperation in your voice.

"what about it?"

"it's a mess!" you sigh, covering your face with your hands, out of both embarrassment, and fatigue. you take a big breath before continuing "so i wanted to clean it up, i even brought all the... all the things, but it's so much stuff to do, and i'm tired, and- and i don't know!" you choose to stop as not to snap right then and there. "i can't even do my shitty chores right like an adult" you mumble, massaging your temples.

"and is sitting on the floor helping?" he simply asks, and for a second, you're almost mad at him for not being more... cooey and fuss over you a bit more. he sounds cold.

"what are you-"

"really, is it helping?" he repeats "because from how i see it, every little thing would seem bigger if you looked at it from this angle. come on" he nudges you before standing up, and offering a hand to lift you up. you, however, shake your head.

"i really can't deal with it today, childe, i'm sorry"

"just stand up" he pleas, and the second you take his hand, he helps you up in less than a second. when you're on his level again, he sneaks both his arms on the sides of your waist, and sort of sways around a little, before speaking again. "what if, what if we do it little by little? look, we'll start over there" he puts his hand on top of yours, and lifts your arm to point to the full sink along with his. "and that'd be it for today! and then tomorrow... actually, let's not make plans. we'll just pick something tomorrow, and do it then. does the sink sound like a lot to do?" he asks.

"do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to say no" you mutter, earning the heartiest and brightest laughter you've heard in days from him.

"always honest. but come on, i'll help." he rolls you out of his embrace, causing you to feel a sudden wave of cold, it was comfortable back there, you think.

however, as he works through the dishes with you, the pile does seem to lessen, and doesn't rule over your kitchen anymore. every time he hands you a plate to dry, he smiles as wide as he can, and it doesn't seem to bother him at all when you don't smile back.

"remember" he starts again, after a while of comfortable silence. he looks ridiculous, doing the kitchen duties in an outfit designed mostly to look presentable and slay enemies in it, but the look on his face is dead set. "the first lesson you've gotta learn before going off to battle something, is that the best defense is always, always to fight back. and if you don't think you can manage that, well, that's why nobody ever battles alone. it's common sense to have someone watching your back. and as for you, not only are you a great warrior yourself, but you've also got the best second-in-command willing to help you out. don't forget that."

kaeya

as for him, he's also perceptive and empathic, but the difference between him and tartaglia is that he does believe people have the right to figure some things out on their own, he's a firm believer in the magic of secrets

that's probably because he himself doesn't like to share too much about his deeply personal feelings

so he'd obviously see some wave of difficult emotions coming your way, but would he immediately start worrying? probably not

the guy doesn't have healthy copying mechanisms himself, don't think he expects those of others

every other night the two of you meet up at the tavern, kaeya always ordering wine, you asking the bartender for whatever was in store today, but it's never anything alcoholic.

and just like nearly always, you're seated at angel's share, him noticing you're not particularly in the mood for talking, and choosing to entertain you with as many stories of the day that went by as he can remember.

the waiter interrupts him, asking if your minds are already made up regarding the drink. now, kaeya always has you picking first, but since he sees you're still analyzing the card (as if you expected to find anything new), he goes first with a drink he knows charles makes really strong.

to his surprise, when it comes to you, you just mumble "i'll have the same he had"

before the waiter has a chance of writing that down, kaeya tells him that actually, you're gonna need a minute or two more, and to erase the order you've both put in.

as he walks away, the calvary captain's eyes pierce through yours.

"that's a pretty nasty drink you wanted there" he starts, feeling he can't let you handle your mess this time, preparing to dig a little deeper into what's on your mind.

you shrug your shoulders.

"hey" he speaks up a little firmer, hand moving to cover yours, and even though they twitch as to retreat from his grip, you let it be. "tell me what's up."

"nothing's <up>" you accentuate. "can't i even have a drink now?"

"obviously you can" he nods "as long as i know you're trying it just for the taste, and not for the strong kick it's gonna offer, cause that's a dangerous path that only leads to nasty places." concern shines through his gaze, and an encouraging smile is wandering somewhere in his expression, however his lips are still pressed into a tight line, the same he forms when he's either fighting or arguing.

you stay silent for a good long while, before sighing.

"maybe i want the kick. good, or bad, maybe i want to feel... something."

the sentence sounds all too familiar, as he shakes his head and takes your hand, leading you towards the exit.

"what're you-"

"you're obviously not in the right state to be in a bar, of all places" he states almost coldly "so i'm getting you somewhere safer."

the two of you leave the bar, and walk out into the cold of mondstadt's street, covered in the darkness of the night. you walk past him, not leveling up to him, just tagging along to whatever he's going.

it comes as a surprise, that you're neither headed for your apartment, nor his, nor the knights' headquarters. he's guiding you in an unknown direction, until you reach a dead end.

he clims up a small building, offering you a hand and shaking off your confused expressions and questions. "you'll see" he says. the two of you walk from roof to roof, and countless times you tell him it's ridiculous, but then, he jumps onto the city's wall, helping you out with two hands this time, sitting you down right next to him on the stone surface of the wall. it's a little wet from the night's humidity, and cold, and probably dirty too, but the moon shines right at you, and from this perspective, you see thousands of lights in houses, taverns and shops, from the bottom up to the cathedral.

going up from that, a calm and peaceful lake paints the landscape blue on the left, and even from up here, you see a sea of lampgrasses shining through the leaves of wolvendom forest. if you squint, lights are still on in dawn winery, and the path to liyue and all the other lands swirls around near diluc's house. there's so much you can see, even if the night limits your vision.

"i like to come here when i need to gain some perspective over what is happening in my life right now" kaeya speaks really softly and quietly, bordering on a whisper. "it's a beautiful view, even someone as insensitive to art as i am can see that, but other than that... it's huge. and even though it is, it's also alive. every single one of those beings whose lights are dying out as they slowly go to sleep one by one, they're alive. they're not a scenery, they're their own, individual worlds. and they all coexist with each other in such a clever manner, don't you think? they have their differences, they might even hate each other, or wish the worst upon the other's name, but from up here? they fit together like puzzles of one, big picture."

"that's a nice way to put it, for sure" you whisper, looking down onto your knees. his finger pushes your chin slightly to make you face him, and he smiles at you gently, thumb brushing against the skin of your cheek.

"you know, we each have our own worlds, built from scratch from such fragile materials. we have our worlds rise, shine, and crumble before our sights. we look over the ruins of them and think, this is the end of the world. there's nothing more, it's all dust now. but from up here, you see how many other worlds there are - everyone has their own. not everything that is happening in your world is true. you see it from first person's perspective, and therefore the view might be disturbed by many different aspects. you might not see the picture, you just see the broken puzzle fragment that can't fit with the rest, and you're ready to throw away the entire picture, without finishing it. but being here, it reminds me... the world doesn't end on the ruins you see. you can always ask someone to help you build them up again, and of course, you can expect it to fall into pieces once more, but this time, you'll keep in mind, there're-" he stopped, pointing to the city's lights. "so many people to help you raise it up to the clouds."

"your metaphor is really complex" you chuckle, but his face stays still.

"it's not the end of the world if your puzzle piece is broken. and the ruins are not unfixable if you feel too tired to build them up all by yourself. if anything, that's a start." his hand travels up to keep the hair from getting on your face, since the wind blows pretty hard on this height. "what do you say we start your puzzle once more, toghether?"

-

your friendly reminder that you can request things [here]

[random1amfics]

Demon Tyrant of France (2)

Lila had a great week. The class was wrapped around her finger and that baker's girl can't do anything about it as Adrien seemed to be keeping her in line with that promise. Poor girl was desperate to do anything for her crush. Today, she will spin some tales of how Marinette was really mean to her offer of friendship and maybe get her so call 'friends' to punish her bad behaviour by destroying the girl's phone for her awful texts. As she skipped to the school, she didn't notice the tense air the other students seemed to have. She saw Alya, her ticket to increasing her fame, arguing with her boyfriend, Nino. He could be useful when she needs music for a party.

"I don't care if this Demon Tyrant person is powerful. We don't need another Chloe Bourgeois in our class. I am not going to stand for her tormenting us."

"Babe, listen, the Demon Tyrant will mostly ignore us because according to her, we are just mere insects. As long as we don't provoke her or anger her, we will be fine. The only thing I am worried about is whether or not you would get into trouble, you did some bad things to her recently and I really hope she is feeling generous."

"I couldn't have done things to someone I have never heard of until today."

"Oh, she had been in our class for the past 2 years. Apparently, she and a friend of hers had a bet on who can be kind for the longest. The bet was over last night. Chloe sent us about it last night."

"I never read what Miss Bully says."

"Excuse me," Lila cuts in, "What are you talking about? Who is the Demon Tyrant? She sounds bad."

"I will tell you on the way. Classes are about to start. But whatever you do, under any circumstances, do not, I mean, absolutely DO NOT talk to her unless she permits it."

The more Lila hears about the Demon Tyrant, the more she begins to envy the power she has over the school. Lila wondered which of her classmates was the Demon Tyrant. Could be Chloe but she can't be it, she had not been nice to their classmates at all. The one with the Roller Skates? She seemed to fit the Demon Tyrant name with the pink hair and roller skates but sometimes she didn't act nice. The Pink Blondie? She acts so nice and sickeningly sweet that she wouldn't be surprised if it was a facade.

She walked into the classroom, as confidently as she can to impress the so-called Demon Tyrant. Whoever she is, might want connections to spread her sphere of influence and they can rule together.

Lila and Alya saw Marinette with a complete makeover wearing a golden 'crown' that looked legit, looking down on the class like they were peasants from her high seat in the back. Their mouths hung open as Kim and a few others came, bearing offerings which they presented to her.

Lila gritted her teeth. Of course, that goody-two-shoes were the Demon Tyrant who ruled the school. At least now it will be easier to take all her friends away. She plastered a concerned face.

"Marinette, what are you doing? Demanding things from your friends? Friends shouldn’t expect things from their friends like that, especially something as expensive as that crown.” “First of all, Rossi, don’t call me by my name, I only allow certain people to call me that and you are not on that small list. Second of all, I didn’t ask for anything from them. They are called gifts. It was rather hypothetical of you to tell me not to expect free stuff from ‘friends’ when just last week, you basically demanded free pastries from the bakery. And lastly, this diadem ”-she gestured towards it-“is actually mine. I paid for it full price with my hard-earned money. I have a receipt if you don’t believe me. Since you are still new, I shall let it pass this time. But you will not speak to me unless necessary or with my permission.” Marinette said with a cold, icy voice.

“I can’t believe you are so mean to me. I just want to be friends and I am so worried about you when you are dressed like that.” Lila faked a few tears to sell the act. It’s perfect. She didn’t have to try so hard now that Marinette is doing a nice job by herself.

“I believe I have told you not to speak to me. Another word to me and I will make you deeply regret it.”

Alya spoke up, not liking Marinette’s new attitude, “Girl, Lila was just looking out for you. Don’t brush off her concerns and stop being so mean. I will admit I am worried about this new look too.”

“Cesaire, I will give you the same warning as Rossi there. You aren’t allowed to speak to me unless I say otherwise. Why should I change based on some people’s opinion of me? I am not mean, I am indifferent and cold to people. Haven’t you heard I am the Demon Tyrant? It’s part of the package. Life isn’t a fairytale and they all live happily ever after. Lila should be used to hearing cold, hurtful truths. After all, the famous deal with them all the time.” Marinette said with a bored expression on her face, already deeming this a waste of her breath.

Lila burst into tears and Alya was the only one to comfort her as the others were frozen in their seats and made no moves. Terrified for the backlash of helping the 2 girls. Even Nino, who loved Alya very much but prayed to every deity he knew to grant his headstrong, stubborn, justice-seeking girlfriend some common sense. She was playing with fire now and she was going to get burned badly.

Lila sobbed loudly, ”But I am not lying.”

“Marinette! Stop this at once. You can drop the act now. I don't know what you are trying to prove. Being a better Chloe? And we are best friends, we don’t need permission to speak to each other. Lila doesn’t lie. How could you say those things? Just because you are jealous, doesn’t mean you should do it. She is very sensitive.”

The Demon Tyrant grinned. It instinctively made everyone move away from her and Alya, who took a step back.

“Oh. Alya. Alya. Alya.” The first name means that the reporter had poked the Demon too much and now, she was annoyed. The Tyrant walked down, towards the two girls.

“You poor naive girl. With your strong sense of Justice and morals. I thought that we could have actually been friends. But you chose the wrong side when the time came. You should have listened to your boyfriend’s warnings when you had a chance. Let’s hope this one will get through to you. When I started this year of college, I had put up the perfect act of a sweet, kind and selfless girl all for a bet. You saw Chloe bullying that girl whom you protected and befriended. I remember many of our classmates pulled you aside to warn you of my true nature to spare you the heartache when the time came. I also told you one myself. That girl back then was not me at all and I tried to ease you into understanding that. But you were too excitable. You immediately put yourself into the category of ‘my best friend’ even though that title already belongs to my dear thief. You saw the various pictures of Gabriel’s design with Adrien as the model on my wall and decided that I have to get together with him when my heart had already been stolen by another. (Chloe fist-bumped the air. It was confirmed that her ship had sailed.) When Lila Rossi came with her grand stories, you chose to believe her over me. I will usually not admit something like this because I am too proud but it hurt when you went to her instead of me. The point is that you never stopped and listened, just going on ahead. Because if you did, you would have known that I was never your best friend. That I was never jealous of Lila over Adrien because I don’t even like him. That Marinette Dupain-Cheng isn’t even my real name and she doesn’t exist. And the lying. I haven’t accused her of anything like that. I am just calling her out for assuming the worst of me.”

The Demon Tyrant’s voice was like snow. Soft and melted easily. And so very very Cold. So much of it will knock one’s breath out. The room felt colder after the speech.

Alya stood as still as an ice statue, face-to-face with the Demon Tyrant. Her eyes averted as the blue eyes were so piercing like it could tear her soul to pieces. Lila had stopped her fake crying, thinking about who exactly had she declared an enemy of. She didn’t know if she wanted an answer or not.

“Cesaire, Rossi, I have many connections before I was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I have even more now. With a word from me and your careers will be destroyed before they even take off. If you have common sense, you will stay out of my way.”

“Is that a threat?” Lila asked.

The Tyrant lets out a laugh and meets their eyes, “No. It’s a promise.” She turned around and walked back to her seat like a regal Empress after giving out an execution order.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 22 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren woke in a bed, which was not a surprise. His favorite blanket – the one Wen Ruohan had bought for him – was tucked in around him, and this was also not a surprise.

He was in the Nightless City, which was.

“How…?”

“Your brother gave permission,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lan Qiren twisted his head in surprise, not having seen him sitting there at the desk beside the bed. Wen Ruohan was writing something, his brush movement steady and unhurried; it was a distinct contrast to the seething rage lingering in his voice. “Since I know you care about that.”

“Of course I care,” Lan Qiren said blankly. “He really gave permission?”

Wen Ruohan’s brush paused. “Are you suggesting that I’m lying?”

Lan Qiren considered it for a moment, then said, a little helplessly, “It seems more likely than him agreeing to cut my punishment short.”

Wen Ruohan snorted, and put his brush down. “I insisted,” he said, and the smug curl of his smile suggested it had been more than a casual conversation. “Anyway, he didn’t want a fuss.”

Naturally not, as He Kexin might object, Lan Qiren thought to himself, and shook his head at his own bitterness. He realized a moment later that it didn’t hurt to do that.

“How long did I sleep?” he asked, alarmed. The transit to the Nightless City was long, unless someone decided to waste vast amounts of qi flying by sword – which he could see Wen Ruohan doing – but the staves used for the Lan sect’s more severe discipline were not like those used for more mundane offenses. While they weren’t on par with a discipline whip, they were still made of spiritual wood, infused with qi; the injuries they left would not heal so quickly.

“I applied medicine,” Wen Ruohan said, rising to his feet and coming over to sit by Lan Qiren’s side on the bed, helping him sit up. “You’re not healed, only numb…I understand you’ve been having difficulties in your sect for some time, and that was even before the lady attacked you in an effort to frame you for her own rape.”

“I’m fairly sure she just wanted to show my brother that she wasn’t interested in him,” Lan Qiren said, wincing. He would not have phrased it quite like that, although thinking it over, it did seem to be a fair way to describe it, if an uncomplimentary one. “It’s not a stretch to think that picking his less impressive brother over him would do it.”   

Wen Ruohan’s lips curled into a sneer. “Truly, an ingenious mind. Did she think herself so attractive that no man would ever deny her?”

That, or else she’d been truly desperate. Lan Qiren could sympathize with her to that extent. After all, do not take advantage of your position to oppress others was a rule for a reason, and the power and influence a Great Sect could bring to bear against a rogue cultivator was not nothing. But his sympathy ended at the point where she’d decided it was acceptable to harm him in order to achieve her goal – even looking at her actions in the best possible light and assuming that she sincerely thought he would participate willingly in her plan, she’d made all sorts of assumptions and hadn’t bothered to verify anything before acting on them. 

He Kexin might be free and unrestrained, as his brother had described her, but she was also perilously reckless, and selfish, too.

Still, at the same time Lan Qiren thought about Wen Ruohan’s smirk when he mentioned his ‘insistence’ with his brother – he wasn’t sure if it involved physical violence or not, although the mental image of such a confrontation was oddly satisfying – and grimaced at the thought of the same sort of pressure being brought to bear on someone without a Great Sect’s protection. “About - He Kexin…”

“You needn’t concern yourself for the lady’s sake,” Wen Ruohan said, and his tone was a little unpleasant. “Even after all that, she permitted herself to be convinced by one of her friends that the advantages of receiving Qingheng-jun’s affections outweighed the disadvantages, despite her own better instincts; that seems punishment enough for the moment. Someone who does not hesitate to blind themselves at the say-so of another will reap the reward they deserve in the end…”

He shook his head, and smiled once more, displaying a glint of teeth. 

“You may take comfort that I took no action against her. However, I did suggest that the lady in question consider avoiding Qishan on her future travels.”

Lan Qiren felt something warm pricking his heart. “The thought is appreciated, although unnecessary. The one whose conduct is in the wrong is my brother.”

He’d appreciate an apology from He Kexin, whether for misjudging him or ignoring his refusals, but he wouldn’t hold out hope for it.

“I can be angry at more than one person at once,” Wen Ruohan said. A strange expression flitted over his features. “I admit, I would have thought Lao Nie would have done something about the entire situation sooner. Even if you weren’t writing to me, why didn’t you write to him?”

“I did,” Lan Qiren said. “His initial reply was – unsatisfactory.”

Lao Nie had responded rather casually to Lan Qiren’s message laying out the situation with his brother and He Kexin, speaking light-heartedly of the burning ardor of first love; he had assured Lan Qiren that it was normal to feel troubled by the thought of being left behind, even when the relationship was not good, and that his brother would probably resurface from his infatuation a happier person in the end. It was fairly evident that he hadn’t read all of Lan Qiren’s carefully composed letter.

“I asked him to come by the Lan sect,” he added. “But he was otherwise occupied.”

Wen Ruohan pressed his lips together in irritation. “He’s been otherwise occupied for some time now. You’re not the only one whose letters he’s disregarded.”

“Even you?” Lan Qiren said wonderingly. “But he likes you so much.”

The tightness in Wen Ruohan’s face eased a little. “I’ve asked him to visit here on account of your health,” he said. “I expect to see him arrive in his usual ridiculous flurry of temper and hen-like concern soon enough – once he reads the letter, anyway.”

Lan Qiren nodded, then hesitated. “The last time I was here…”

Wen Ruohan gazed at him sidelong.

Lan Qiren bit his lip. “I understand that I overstepped –”

“Don’t apologize.”

Lan Qiren stopped.

Wen Ruohan looked irritated again. “Don’t apologize,” he said again. “Are you not my little brother? If you cannot scold me, who is there that lives who can? I am not Qingheng-jun.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t entirely sure how the two were connected.

“If you want to make it up to me, go back to the way you addressed me before,” Wen Ruohan added.

Lan Qiren frowned, confused. “How do you mean?”

“Call me da-ge. Not xiongzhang.”

“…the latter is more polite.”

“So is listening to your elders,” Wen Ruohan said haughtily. “As you’re so fond of saying, it’s what I asked.”

“All right, da-ge,” Lan Qiren said obediently, and Wen Ruohan looked pleased.

“Rest,” he ordered, rising to his feet. “There will be dinner soon, and perhaps we can play weiqi once again…is there anything else you need for your room?”

Lan Qiren’s room in the Nightless City was very similar to the room Wen Ruohan had prepared for him in the Cloud Recesses; he couldn’t think of anything else he might need. Except only…

“I don’t suppose you could ask your spies to check in on my rooms back home,” Lan Qiren said, even as he settled back down to rest as instructed. “There was a painting there that you gifted to me that I liked a lot. It fell during the fight, and I haven’t been back since. I don’t want it thrown away.”

“Which one? I got you several…the mountain pass? The flowering tree?”

“No, the landscape with the rolling hills,” Lan Qiren said, and Wen Ruohan, who had been about to leave, stopped abruptly by the door. “It’s a little burned at the edges; you can’t really mistake it for anything else.”

“You liked that one?” Wen Ruohan’s voice was strange, full of some emotion that Lan Qiren was too tired to even try to decipher. “Above the others? The quality is much less, and the skill with the brush inferior.”

“The person who painted it was happy,” Lan Qiren explained. “There’s an echo of the painter’s residual qi trapped in the ink, you can tell a little bit about who they were from that. Whoever it was, they were brash and bold, arrogant and carefree – full of potential, like a phoenix about to alight to a higher branch. Their soul was like a falcon’s, tied down by nothing. Looking at it is an inspiration, and a comfort. I use it sometimes as a focus for meditation.”

“…I’ll have my spies check,” Wen Ruohan said, and he must be truly perturbed by Lan Qiren’s punishment-induced injuries if he had actually just admitted to having spies in the Cloud Recesses. “In the meantime, I have several other works by the same…artist. If you’d like.”

“Oh, very much!” Lan Qiren said enthusiastically; he tried to struggle up to sit again, but he started to feel pain even through the numbness of the anesthetic he’d been dosed with. Wen Ruohan glared him back down, and he yielded meekly, knowing that he was in no state to be really protesting. “Thank you, da-ge. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

Wen Ruohan huffed and put a hand behind his back, sweeping out the door like a gust of wind.

Lan Qiren lay back down, staring up at the ceiling.

Are you really going to do this? he wondered. Will you really forgive him for what he has done, for what he is, just because you desperately need support? What happened to your principles? Your rules?

He exhaled hard, almost a sigh. He still wasn’t all right with the torture, still thought it was wrong for a man to exult in the pain of others in such a grotesque fashion, but he’d gone back to his standby, the rules, and he was reminded brutally that they were designed to function as guides for the self, not for the world. You were supposed to embrace the entirety of the world, to shoulder the burden of morality, to refuse to tolerate evil – and yet the rules of hospitality, of host and guest, of neighbors, were ranked just as high.

He could choose to continue to hold back, to express his disdain of Wen Ruohan’s ways with distance and reserve, but it wouldn’t stop Wen Ruohan from doing what he wanted anyway, and it would leave Lan Qiren even more isolated and friendless than he was already.

It would be better to compromise.

And yet – it was hard, perilously hard, to force himself to do so. It was one of his flaws, he knew: how uncompromising he was, how unyielding, how bitterly he held onto his opinions, refusing to change, especially when he thought he was right.

For his own sake, he needed to try to do so. But he also needed to at least try to salvage his conscience, too.

He’d have to find a way to do both.

So decided, Lan Qiren reserved the issue of how he would do that in the back of his mind, returning to sleep. It would be easier, he thought, to resolve the issue in the morning, once he’d healed up a little more.

It wasn’t, but that was mostly because he was horrified to discover that he had no proper clothing.

“You have clothing that fits,” Wen Ruohan replied, the mildness of his voice failing to conceal the glint of amusement in his eyes. “It’s even in your clan’s colors. What’s the problem?”

“It’s too much,” Lan Qiren insisted, shaking the clothing at him. He had at least been left his inner robes, though he felt naked without the extra layer. “My formal clothing is less excessive than this!”

“That is surely a matter for your sect, isn’t it? I don’t think it’s excessive.”

“You have no sense of proportion!”

Wen Ruohan shrugged. “I can send for something else,” he said. “Even from your home, if you like. By regular post, it should only take a week or so to arrive.”

Lan Qiren scowled.

“If you really prefer, you’re welcome to walk around naked until then –”

Lan Qiren was so aggravated that he actually hissed at him, surprising Wen Ruohan into a laugh that interrupted his words, and returned to his room to begrudgingly put on the robes. They were white and silver, his usual preference – not interwoven with blue, but that wasn’t a surprise, given that white was a secondary color for the Wen sect as well as the Lan – but they were also ridiculously overwrought: embroidered brocade, silks so fine that they had to be layered in order to not be translucent, studded with shining pearls and what might be actual silver…

“Absurd,” he grumbled, but put on the clothing and came back out. “Do you enjoy tormenting me? Is that it?”

“At times,” Wen Ruohan said, his eyes curved and merry. “Come, sit. It’s your move.”

Lan Qiren permitted himself to succumb to his sworn brother’s atrocious taste for the evening, then stole away to the laundry room the first chance he could, determined to beg for a set of clothing that was somewhat more normal – even mourning clothing would be acceptable, as long as it was neither Wen sect nor horribly garish.

Wen Ruohan found him there, arguing spiritedly with the tailor, and whisked him back to his rooms on account of Lan Qiren’s injuries, arguing, correctly, that Lan Qiren was on the verge of collapsing and coughing up blood from having been a bit too enthusiastic.

Eventually, after some of what Lan Qiren called reasoned debate and what Wen Ruohan called flagrant sulking, Wen Ruohan agreed to get him something a little more normal to wear on the condition that he wear at least one adornment of Wen Ruohan’s choosing along with it.

“You secretly wanted to play with dolls as a child,” Lan Qiren said accusingly, even though the initial adornment – a belt loop made from moonstone and jade – was entirely appropriate, even by Lan sect standards. “You were denied the chance then, and now you make it everyone else’s problem. Is that it?”

“Perhaps,” Wen Ruohan said. “It’s been so long, how would I remember?”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes and gamely lost to him at weiqi a few more times.

It was perilously easy to slip back into the comfortable camaraderie that they’d developed on his last visit, he reflected as he prepared for bed that evening. It was something he enjoyed - something they both enjoyed - and if Lan Qiren only kept his opinions to himself, convinced himself to actually bend for once, he might be able to actually keep it, this time. 

The next morning, he went to the extensive library kept by the Wen sect and took down several books on anatomy, carefully copying out the goriest parts of it in his best calligraphy; he wasn’t an inspired painter like the nameless ancient that had done the pictures that now hung in his room here, but he excelled at dry and lifeless copies, which was about what you wanted from an anatomy text.

He finished the small booklet within a few days, and gave it to Wen Ruohan one evening before dinner.

“What’s this?” Wen Ruohan asked, flipping through it with a slightly bemused expression. “Medicine?”

“Anatomy,” Lan Qiren corrected. “Since you – like that sort of thing. It’s a gift.”

Wen Ruohan blinked very deliberately. “Little Lan,” he said, staring down at one of the more explicit illustrations. “Did you get me a gift to help me torture people better?”

“I got you a gift because you’re my sworn brother, and you’re taking care of me,” Lan Qiren said with as much dignity as he could muster in light of the patheticness of his abject surrender. “I got you this gift because it seemed relevant to your interests. Anyway, it’s not something I can share, or even really countenance – and in all honesty I would prefer that you not do it while I’m around, or at minimum try not to mention it to me, to make it easier to look the other way – I mean, it’s not going to be easy, but easier – well, my scruples aren’t important. It’s something that matters to you, so I’ll just –”

Wen Ruohan cleared his throat, interrupting him. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he said, looking at the space above Lan Qiren’s head for some reason. “The Fire Palace has had trouble keeping my interest recently; the entertainment has gone stale. I have moved on.”

Lan Qiren had not expected that, and he smiled happily, his pricked conscience unexpectedly granted a reprieve. For some reason, it made Wen Ruohan stare at him.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that you’re not torturing people for sport any longer,” Lan Qiren told him, in case it wasn’t clear. “As for the booklet, even if it’s not quite right for your interests right now, I still hope you enjoy the work...I’ll get you a better gift next time.”

“No need to strain yourself,” Wen Ruohan said. “I will be pleased no matter what it is, I’m sure.”

He gestured for Lan Qiren to enter the dining room first, which Lan Qiren did. Oddly enough, despite his cliché and rather condescending reassurances, Wen Ruohan looked especially pleased throughout dinner, almost as if he really meant what he’d said.

It was nice, Lan Qiren thought, to be liked. One could get used to it.

His injuries were healing very well, between the medicines Wen Ruohan’s doctors plied him with – Lan Qiren attempted not to calculate the value of them, certain that they were probably worth more than a small sect’s heirloom treasure – and the rich spiritual energy Wen Ruohan insisted on infusing him with, morning and night. Lan Qiren tried to protest that the latter was unnecessary, but Wen Ruohan had stood on his rights as the host, and at any rate he simply had so much qi that the effort seemed not to wear on him at all. So Lan Qiren let him keep doing it, Wen Ruohan’s warm hands conveying warm qi as he spoke to him of various matters, important and trifling, and Lan Qiren – liked it.

“In the Nightless City, we release lanterns several times a year, not just on the Lantern Festival,” Wen Ruohan murmured into Lan Qiren’s ear as he sat there, eyes growing heavy as his rules-mandated bedtime approached. “It’s a celebration of the sun as our sect’s sigil. The lanterns come in all shapes and sizes and colors, and we light the flames with spiritual energy. There’s a day not far from now where we will do it; people are making preparations already. Your body is still stiff and unbending, your wounds still healing – you’ll be here to see it.”

Lan Qiren nodded.

“Good,” Wen Ruohan said. “Very good…ah, little Lan, what a strange thing you are. When you were gone, I thought of you often no matter what I wished. I thought that I could cure it by having you here, but now you are here before me, every day, and yet I think of you no less. It seems that seeing you every day does not cause me to tire of you.”

“Yes, you’re very easily amused,” Lan Qiren said, his eyes sliding shut as the warm qi circulated through his body. “I think we long ago established that.”

“Is there any feature of yours that you actually like, little Lan? Or is it all self-depreciation?”

“I have a good brain,” Lan Qiren said. “I’m creative and analytical, and I explain things well; I make for a decent or even accomplished teacher. My musical ability is good, both in terms of playing and composition. Also, I’m informed that my face is first rate.”

Wen Ruohan laughed behind his shoulder. “I stand corrected.”

When they parted that night, all was well.

The peace did not last until morning.

[xhanisai]

Truth Or Dare?

AO3 / FFN

Summary:

Adrien gulped, completely frozen in his seat under the gaze of his demonic classmates, the almighty, notorious peer-pressure throwing a concert whilst his Lady continued to act like that the string on the floor was far more interesting than the fact that her newly discovered partner was currently in the hot seat. 'Now how do I answer this!?' He panicked internally, twiddling with his thumbs and praying to the Gods more reliable than Plagg that Marinette would suddenly come up with some brilliant, top-notch plan that would surely get them both out of this. Especially if she doesn't want him to whimper out: "Ya got me! It was Marinette when she kissed the evil out of me after I got shot by Dislocoeur, hahaha! Oh, do I need to mention that I have no recollection of it whatsoever and that I was decked up in my usual catsuit whilst she was in her polka-dotted onesie? A brilliant first kiss, amirite!? Not to mention that our second kiss was also wiped from my memory, cheers for that Alya and Nino!"

Pairing - Adrinette Prompt - 'Truth or Dare?' ~(x)~ . . . Adrien was fucked. He was entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked. And not in the literal way much to the teen's utter dismay and painful frustration. And certainly not anytime soon, judging by his princesse's stiff, flustered posture who was on the floor across him, along with the rest of their class sitting in a circle (sans Lila and Chloé, Dieu merci). Gremlin-like smirks were etched on their friends' mischievous faces and sinister cackles escaped their mouths like the Madhatter from Alice Au Pays Des Merveilles. Even timid ol' Sabrina wore a grin that would rival the Cheshire cat. But never mind that. What was the cherry on top was how both he and Marinette just found out each other's identities no more than ten minutes prior. The two idiots were desperately sprinting back to collège Françoise Dupont after their latest akuma battle without noticing the other, only to literally collide into one other and their transformation to wear off immediately, leaving them both with matching gaping expressions. If luck was on his side, the scenario would have carried on with Adrien whipping out 'suave move #9236' and channelling his inner 'Tamaki Suoh', helping his Lady to her feet with a smile so sexy and seductive (guaranteed to win her over of course) and then him proceeding to ask her out for a cup of coffee where they can talk! Then, he would have totally charmed her with another brilliant smile that would have surely fly kicked away whatever feelings she had for that 'other' boy (he named him M. Imbécile), caressing that soft, soft cheek of hers with his hand and surely they would have leaned in for a hot, passionate, true love's kiss (and he'd finally know what it's like to be properly smooched)! MAIS NON. NON. His five seconds of absolute happiness, of pure bliss after finding out that the two girls he bloody loved so damn much and practically worshipped, were one and the same- WAS INTERRUPTED. . The inconveniently timed Ladyblogger and her DJ boyfriend arrived at the scene, practically snatching both him and Marinette away and back to class, babbling about how Mme. Bustier was going to arrive late hence they were going to take advantage of it. By taking advantage, they meant avoiding all responsibilities by playing a specific game. A game that Adrien has learnt to now, unconditionally despise. . "We're not getting any younger here, Buttercup. Tell us, who was your first kiss? And don't even think about lying your way out, we can tell by your face that you definitely got some sort of action~" Alya's glasses flashed in such a devilish way, even Le Papillon would have found himself shitting his pants. "Of course, if you don't want to answer the truth...you can always pick dare," 'LIKE HELL I WILL!' The last person to have picked 'dare' was Rose and she was instructed to deliver a hearty smack to Kim's bum! The teen model pretty much vowed that the only booty his hands were allowed to touch was Marinette's, with consent obviously. And vice versa. And the person before Rose who chose 'dare' was Nino! He was dared to sneak outside, climb to the top of the building's rooftop and sing Rick Astley's 'Never Gonna Give You Up' from the top of his lungs, recording himself live on Instagram as proof. It was a miracle that he never got caught by the staff! Again, the feline hero very much preferred that any attempts of his serenading would only be heard by the ears of the love of his life. . Adrien gulped, completely frozen in his seat under the gaze of his demonic classmates, the almighty, notorious peer-pressure throwing a concert whilst his Lady continued to act like that the string on the floor was far more interesting than the fact that her newly discovered partner was currently in the hot seat. 'Now how do I answer this!?' He panicked internally, twiddling with his thumbs and praying to the Gods more reliable than Plagg that Marinette would suddenly come up with some brilliant, top-notch plan that would surely get them both out of this. Especially if she doesn't want him to whimper out: "Ya got me! It was Marinette when she kissed the evil out of me after I got shot by Dislocoeur, hahaha! Oh, do I need to mention that I have no recollection of it whatsoever and that I was decked up in my usual catsuit whilst she was in her polka-dotted onesie? A brilliant first kiss, amirite!? Not to mention that our second kiss was also wiped from my memory, cheers for that Alya and Nino!" Unfortunately, (once again) for him, not even his pleading kitty eyes were able to penetrate the wall of aloofness that Marinette held between them, leaving him completely on his own, ready to be torn apart by their friends' malevolent hands. He was the equivalent of a teeny tiny, illegally cute kitten, surrounded by a circle of hungry, deadly, carnivorous wolves, licking their chops! Yet, Marinette remained unphased, pretending to stare out into space and think about what her Maman and Papa would prepare for dinner as if Adrien's scrutinising gaze weren't like arrows all over her side. However, much to her disadvantage, Agreste is her partner and he knew her very, very well. The desperate cat was able to pinpoint the cold sweat that was growing on her forehead, knowing that his presence was starting to get to her and conscious of the fact that she cannot ignore him for long either. 'Come on Marinette, you can't resist me forever. Please help!' His lack of any sort of psychic powers didn't stop him from wishing that she could read his mind but dammit did he try. 'Don't you love your pauvre Chaton!? Aidez-moi s'il vous plaît, My Lady!!!' Just before he could resort to begging out loud, Alix Kubdel... ...snickered. Simply from that evil, ominous sound, both Adrien and Marinette paled on the spot at a speed faster than M. Césaire's panther could ever dream of running at. "Ever since we asked you that question, not once have you looked away from Marinette...now why is that~?" The short girl's insight caused the rest of the class to gasp cheekily and "Oooh~?" simultaneously, their ferocious appetite for juicy gossip now at full throttle much to both heroes' apprehension. "And you, Mari! You look like a kid who got caught stealing from the cookie jar. I think the two of you have something big to admit to the rest of us, hmm?" "...No-oooo...?" Dupain-Cheng refused to make eye contact with anyone, her lips stuck between what looked like a grimace and a fake smile, continuing her sentence which was just as truthful as Jagged Stone's claims of being in his mid-twenties. "I am still a lowly virgin maiden in the kissing department...heheh...heh..." Adrien on the other hand blinked owlishly as he finally came to a conclusion, his singular working brain cell grinding its gear through his thought process. Oh? Ohoh??? OHOHOOHOH??????? . "So that means I was your first kiss too?" . If there was a compilation labelled "Top Ten Ways That Adrien Mothafuckin' Stupid Agreste Fucked Up"... This would be number one. "...You didn't hear me say that out loud...right?" He gulped meekly, shrinking under the astonished looks that everyone gave him, his Lady's jaw dropping further than what he assumed was humanely possible. He. Was. Fucked. . The entire classroom erupted with utter chaos. Ranging from high pitched squeals from Alya, Rose, Mylène and Kim to "HOLY SHIT!" and "HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!?" from Alix, Nino, Juleka and so on. Even Marinette was left burning brighter than a tomato, covering her face in embarrassment along with her iconic mantra: "THIS IS A DISASTER!!!" and shaking her head. Money was exchanged from secretive bets that were placed on the model and designer, naughty comments were thrown around left and right and even more! If one were to enter the room right now, they'd think that they've just stumbled across a hectic zoo. Never in his life did Adrien want the ground to swallow him up so badly or even run away at the speed of sound to an unknown island where he would live off of fruit and grow old all alone without ever getting married. Marinette probably- no, she definitely hates him now. Her refusal to come out of her 'Don't talk to me, I'm catastrophising' human ball and face him was more than enough evidence to prove that. Who was he kidding, thinking that he would be able to get such a wonderful, spectacular girl like her to fall for a hopeless, ridiculous nincompoop like him? His attempts in the past never worked out before and it certainly wouldn't have worked out now. Forget about pursuing a romantic relationship with her, he's one-hundred percent sure that he's absolutely tarnished what was left of their friendship! He can visualise his terrifying, depressing excuse of a future already. No more shy, cute greetings with a gorgeous smile in the mornings before class from Marinette. No more fun banter and warm hugs on their favourite patrol environments from Marinette. No more cheeky jokes and flirty teasing from Marinette. No more timid conversations and saying his name in the most softest way he's ever heard from Marinette. And, no more perfect "Bien joué!" fist bumps after an akuma battle from Marinette... How...how was he supposed to live without her? 'Shit, I can feel my eyes starting to water...' He took a deep breath, staring at the ceiling to force the traitorous tears away from daring to come out. The last thing Marinette needed was to deal with a dumb crybaby like him after he's just embarrassed her like that with his stupid, big mouth- "-But when did this happen, Marinette??? Girl, why didn't you tell me!?" Snapping out of his self-pity, Adrien tuned back into the pandemonium, wincing at how mortified Marinette still looked (albeit she was no longer in her cocoon of doom). She pursed her lips at Alya with that adorable pout of hers, unsure of how to answer with something that didn't sound like a terrible excuse. . Finally, a solid answer blared in Adrien's brain, the blonde teen adamant that he turned the situation around and salvaged what was left of the bond between him and his Princesse. For now, he can focus on the dreadful future after he got the current situation sorted. He would do anything to make Marinette feel good around him again. "It was during that time we were at le Musée Grévin when I invited Alya, Nino, Marinette and Manon to join me," He ignored the way that their classmates leaned closer with wide grins, focusing on sending a quiet apology to Marinette's direction with his pleading eyes alone. "I was being dumb and tried to play a prank on Marinette when the other three were away. I ended up tripping and Marinette tried to help me but I accidentally pulled her down with me and...we accidentally kissed..." Although the scenario wasn't fully true, Marinette did manage to land a light peck upon his lips during that incident and that's all it took for it to be branded in his memory. The sear of foreign warmth that left his lips in tingles, the subtle taste of strawberry gloss that left him hungry for more and the unadulterated softness that rivalled even the most expensive of silk. He hoped that his little white lie towards the end was enough to alleviate what was left of Marinette's embarrassment, deaf to their classmates' coos and brows furrowed to emphasise how sorry he was to the girl he loves. Although there was still a hint of pink on her cheeks, her expression was something that he wasn't able to decipher and that only made his heart race even faster than before. 'Please don't hate me, please don't hate me, please don't hate me-' "So how was the kiss, then?" Ivan waggled his eyebrows, both him and his girlfriend playfully winking at Marinette at her protesting stammers. "Oh? E-Erm...it was very quick and brief so I didn't get a chance to enjoy it-" His treacherous eyes decided to land on Marinette's lips midway, his mind screaming to stop digging a deeper hole for himself. He wasn't quick enough to flit his gaze away, the indication that he wanted to kiss her again so painfully obvious that even a blind person would have noticed. "-It was very soft and nice, however! I don't regret it-" Suddenly... . ...Marinette stood up. Adrien felt like his heart was going to bust out of his chest with the way it ricocheted against his ribcage, his emerald eyes wide with apprehension and his breath lodged in his throat as if a vice was clasped around his neck. Was she going to kill him? He certainly thought he deserved it. "Alya," The heroine in disguise began, the teen model unable to hide his flinch. "Dare me to kiss Adrien." 

She lifted her head to face her partner, her sapphire blues no longer hidden in the shadows of her fringe and sparkling with both amusement and...love? Her kissable lips were upturned into a confident smile with a gloss that was begging for him to taste and he was absolutely losing his mind. Was he dreaming? He must be dreaming. Yes. No way in the seven heavens would Marinette, THE Marinette, would want to kiss HIM, the embodiment of bad luck! Yet, the twinkling of her eyes and the warmth that radiated from her as she walked closer and closer towards him said otherwise. He didn't even hear Alya's excited declaration for Marinette's dare, solely focused on the way his Lady kneeled in front of him, smoothed her hands towards his cheeks and cupped them so gingerly. . "Pucker up, Buttercup," Marinette murmured against his lips with an endearing smirk, grazing her nose with his and rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs before sealing the kiss. . With all the romantic daydreams and boyish yearning he went through when it came to Marinette's lips, Adrien thought that he was well prepared for the real deal if the day were to ever come, disregarding his bad luck of course. However, he has been wrong before. He's absolutely, definitely, positively wrong now. The brief, shocked, brush of lips back in the wax museum was barely a taster. Barely a glimpse of the real thing. Not even close to a sample of the luxury. From the moment she pressed her lips against his, Adrien was hit with an outstanding overwhelm of fervour, tenderness and sweetness. His body instinctively shuddered as a pleasant fire seeped from her mouth to his and then coursed through the veins of the rest of his body, his hand that was clutching his precious good luck charm gift from Marinette then loosening its grip and automatically reaching for her cheek. His piano fingers dug into the locks of one of her ponytails, entangling them. 'If this really is a dream, then please, don't wake me up,' The sensation was slightly odd and just, indescribable at the same time. Yet, the more he tasted that strawberry gloss, the more her lips moved against his, the further he fell in love, addicted to the sugar that he's craved for so long. His red-tipped ears were oblivious to the class' whoops and cheers, his heart crashing against his chest louder than ever and the feel of hers doing just the same against him had him soaring. 'She never hated me all along, right? This isn't a kiss of hate at all,' But most importantly, the feeling of Marinette's pulse quickening from when his fingertips slid down to meet the side of her sensitive neck, cradling the back of it and the almost inaudible whimper she let out, was branded to his touch and memory like an imprint. 'So this is a real first kiss? Is this what Marinette felt when she kissed me to get rid of Kim's spell? How did she manage to keep her composure around me since then?' Just as Marinette pulled away, her eyes shimmering with wonderful emotions and her lips as beautifully rosy as her cheeks, Adrien couldn't resist and pulled her back in without a beat. As if to make up for all those missed opportunities, all the moments where he could have stolen her breath away and all those unsaid words that surely would have made them happy. They could talk about the reveal and their feelings afterwards in the safety of Marinette's humble balcony without any prying eyes. They could sort out their overwhelming emotions and bask through their memories over that cup of coffee that Adrien now has the confidence to ask her out on. But just for now, the two of them wanted to enjoy their present and make the most of it. 'Sweet, sweet, sweet, she's so sweet...' . . . ~(x)~ A/N: Ah shit it's six am. I'll edit this tomorrow.

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XX

Part I - - - - - - - - - - Part XVII - - - - Part XVIII - - - - Part XIX

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

“I want you to understand that what we’re going to ask of you is entirely beyond the scope of duty and therefore completely voluntary. You are more than free to refuse participation, at any point, with absolutely no consequences.”

Deep within the Healing Halls best-kept medical secret, Eights quelled beneath the full might of the GAR’s highest and most lauded Generals. Yeah I’m sure whatever they ask I’m going to want to say no. Honestly, what kind of soldiers have they been working with?

“What can I do to help, sir? Sirs?”

“I know this might be shocking, but we have reason to believe the GAR is...compromised.”

“Sir?”

Eights thought furiously. This wasn’t about the healers who were hiding them, or the Jedi his battalion never received, or the decommissioning he had escaped. This was bigger.

The General Windu spoke calmly, “We suspect that you may have been trained or conditioned at some point without your knowledge to unquestioningly follow orders, orders that would usually be beyond what you would typically obey. With your permission, we’d like to try and activate that order in a restrained environment in order to gain more information, with the hope of finding a way to help the troops resist.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand. You’re just going to give me an order and ask me...not to obey it?”

General Koon nodded (General Koon! General Koon and General Windu were talking to him at the same time!). “In a manner of speaking, yes. But it’s possible that the order will do more than that. The only way we believe this could possibly work” Koon glanced to the man at his side. “And we...do believe this threat is real, is if you suffer from some form of brainwashing. Activating it might cause irreparable brain damage. Activating it might damage or kill the parts of you that make you you. Even if it doesn’t- the ideal scenario is we find something- an intentionally designed tumor perhaps- and surgically remove it. And brain surgery also has its own risks.”

Eights swallowed around a lump in his throat. 

“And this is something that could be going on with...my entire batch?”

General Kenobi winced. “The entire GAR I’m afraid. Every clone.”

The General of the 212th! Commander Cody’s General was here! Talking to him! Telling him existentially terrifying ultra classified intel!

The trooper stared up from bed in disbelief. If anyone besides three of most respected generals in the entire GAR (not including Buir Ti) was telling him this he would accuse them of bantha crap fear-mongering, if not outright treason. Instead he was just...outraged.

“What would the order make me...us...do?”

Windu took a deep breath. “Attack us. Try and kill the Jedi.”

“I would never.” Eights straightened up even further. “We would never betray the Jedi- it’s- never. We were made for the Jedi and even if we weren’t- you’re the only ones who treat us with an ounce of respect.”

“No one is questioning your loyalty,” the kind Mon Cal healer (whose name he had never asked for fear of getting her in trouble if this ward was ever discovered) said, obviously trying to sooth him. She spoke with heart-breaking earnestness. “The fact that you would never choose to obey such a command just makes the possibility of something forcing you to do so that much more horrifying.”

“How would something like that even get in our heads? The longnecks designed us to serve the Jedi, why... I’m sorry Generals. I didn’t mean to get out of line.”

“No need to apologize. You have every right to be angry about this intrusion, as well as any number of things,” General Kenobi reassured him, smiling sadly. “We don’t know to what extent the Kaminoans are involved with this plot. Not precisely.”

Eights nodded, clenching his one remaining fist. “I’ll do it. Whatever you need from me. I can’t let my brothers have something this big looming over them without any intel.” I’m not exactly front-lines material anymore anyway.

“Are you sure?” Mace Windu’s eyes seemed to stare into his soul. Eights stared right back.

“I am. When do we start?”

It didn’t take long to shave the soldier and connect a number of glowing vital readers to his skull. He was ushered into a chambered observation room with what appeared to be a sfaraday cage hastily built around it. 

“Alright, whenever you’re ready.” Bant (Master Eerin apparently, but she told him to call her Bant) said.

“I’m ready, sir.”

“Let’s start off small, see if we can learn anything without fully activating the order.”

General Kenobi took in a deep breath. He looked calm, but Jedi always did. The General took in another breath. Kriff, two deep breaths. That’s Jedi for freaking out, isn’t it? Right?

Fuck.

“Does Order 66 mean anything to you?” General Kenobi braced himself, staring intently at the trooper in his seat. 

Eights wracked his brain furiously. Sixty-Six...that was...

“It’s...a little familiar? Sorry sir, I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere but...I can’t recall.”

“That’s perfectly alright trooper, not to worry.”

A Twilek healer he didn’t recognize spoke into a micomphone from the other side of a transparisteel window. “His frontal lobe might be lighting up a little, but it’s nothing abnormal, and not enough to triangulate for anything intrusive.”

After several variations on the same question as well as a number of scans of different ‘levels,’ the questioning escalated to orders, as well an extremely uncomfortable mock fight that he would probably tell his grandchildren about, provided he survived today, and also was allowed to have grandchildren.

Still, Eights couldn’t quite recall ever learning an Order 66 and was starting to relax, thinking the whole thing was some sort of horrible separatist lie.

They left him alone for an uncertain amount of time before returning with-

“Quickdraw?!” Eights jumped up at the sight of his commanding officer arriving via hoverchair, nervously saluting with his left hand.”I didn’t know you were here!”

“Just got out of bacta. My spine’s not quite what it used to be after the blast,” the lieutenant responded wryly. “At ease, Eights.”

“Our apologies again for waking you prematurely,” General Koon said softly.

Quickdraw waved the General off. “I’m honored you did. For something as serious this- well I’d hardly forgive myself if I just slept through it.”

Quickdraw locked eyes with Eights. “I’m supposed to try giving you ‘the order’ now- General Kenobi suspects that as your superior officer, I might be authorized to trigger whatever the hell the longnecks put in our heads.”

Eights swallowed hard. “The longnecks, sir?”

“Who else?” Quickdraw asked in a tone drier than Jakku. He spun in the chair to face General Koon. “How are we doing this?”

After a brief discussion, the troopers ended up on opposite sides of a sound-proof transparisteel divider, an comm channel open between them. Eights plugged his ears and gave the order first. And giving Quickdraw an order was almost but not quite as weird as giving an order that would apparently make him try and kill Jedi.

Nothing happened and they swapped, this time with Quickdraw using a waxy covering to block his hearing.

His lieutenant stared at him straight through the clear divider and ordered him to execute Order 66. This time he finally remembered his training, and realized he was woefully outgunned. Oh well, he was a good soldier.

Eights stood up. The only visible change in his expression was a widening of his pupils. There was no malicious intent palpable in the force- he didn’t even look angry- just determined.

He lunged at the Jedi next to him, only to hit an invisible wall. He threw himself at the barrier desperately while the traitor backed out of the room and escaped. The wall finally dropped, but it was too late, he was locked in.

Sighing, he picked up the chair with his one good arm, slamming it repeatedly at the door frame. Good soldiers follow orders.

On the other side of the observation window, Quickdraw stumbled back horrified, reaching for his ears before hesitating. General Koon softly tapped his shoulder and indicated they should leave. 

“I’ve got a location.” Master Che said quietly as the lieutenant was ushered into an antechamber and the activated trooper continued to beat at the door. “It’s a small but clear patch lit up like the festival of lights- I don’t know why it didn’t turn up in scans but...I’m as confident as I can be. Worst case- it’s a small enough area that removing the grey matter shouldn’t...well it won’t kill him. It’s enough to go on for microscapel surgery.” General Koon nodded, then tilted forward, weight falling heavily in his palms on the counter before him.

Vokara rested a hand gently on his back “...I was hoping it wasn’t true as well.”

Master Koon flinched away. “I am sorry and glad to say you do not understand my feelings on the matter. I think...my apologies but I need some time to meditate.”

“Of course.”

Koon rushed out. After a moment Master Windu stepped in, radiating similar distress as Master Koon. Master Kenobi followed, looking grim but also happy. 

‘Oh I’m glad Koon isn’t around him right now,’ Healer Che thought wryly.

Perhaps sensing the mood, Obi-Wan sobered. 

“I’m sorry it’s just- I didn’t actually see the order get activated. Of course I believed it wasn’t a choice- and I’m obviously not glad that anyone’s will could be taken so easily-”

“You don’t have to explain anymore,” Mace offered quietly. “I can understand why seeing this would be something of a relief, all things considered.”

The Head Healer nodded in agreement before taking charge. “Kenobi, go in with Eerin and help her sedate him. I’ll prepare for surgery.”

“Wait- shouldn’t we try other permutations first? It’s possible that once activated, a clone might be able to order a superior officer-”

“And it’s also possible that if a lieutenant is activated, the entire army will turn,” Mace snapped. Obi-Wan bent his head, chastised. 

“Right. Yes. I’ll go- find Bant.”

An extremely long hour later, Master Che returned from surgery. Masters Mundi, Koth, and Yoda had left to and fulfill the other thousand and one duties of a council member not unravelling a Sith conspiracy at the heart of the Republic, while Master Aerdo had been dispatched to talk with Quickdraw as well as some of the other troopers in the hidden Medical bay. 

“It’s a chip,” Vokara said grimly. “Native biological material, but clearly a chip. Like you would find in a droid. Far more complex than any slave chip I’ve ever seen, and no explosive component. It would only turn up on a level five brain scan. I didn’t even think to run it before- it’s overly invasive and typically useless.”

The reduced meeting crumpled at the sight of the infinitesimally small object of control, carefully encased in a stasis slide and placed delicately on the conference table.

Proof of Obi-Wan’s future, a future that the group thought they already believed.

“We should get Master Nu,” Adi Gallia said quickly, “We’ll want our top researchers analyzing it as soon as possible.”

Koon nodded sharply. “Agreed.”

The Tholothian Master stood, “I’ll go at once- we should probably keep any mention of this off comms.”

As Master Gallia swept out of the room, Plo Koon wrenched his gaze from the stasis slide to face the healer. “Master Che, what is Eight’s status?”

“Unconscious and restrained, but he should wake up soon enough. It...might not be a bad idea to have another Jedi nearby when he does.”

Koon and Che left the room, taking the chip with them and conferring quietly.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, elbows on the table and face in his hands.

Master Windu exchanged a glance with Anakin. 

Finally Obi-Wan spoke, tentatively addressing Bant, “Could it be possible for someone...besides a clone to be chipped? If Palpatine had access to them as a child...”

Bant drew back, gaze flickering to Anakin. “I- we would have to study it more-”

Anakin interrupted, shifting in his seat. ”Master- what did I do?”

“It- it wasn’t you. It wasn’t you anymore that the person who fired on me was Cody.”

Bant exchanged a glance with Mace, before clearing her throat with a soft gurgle. “Perhaps we should leave the two of you alone to talk this through.”

The Mon Cala Healer stood and exited rapidly. Windu exchanged a glance with Skywalker before he left. “Talk through everything, understood?” Anakin nodded.

The door shut, leaving Master and Padawan alone. “I feel like I’m missing more than two and a half days,” Obi-Wan muttered wryly. “I don’t remember you three having a non-verbal communication system consisting of eye-contact alone before.”

Anakin chuckled once then immediately grew somber, picking at a loose thread in the sleeve of his robe. A thousand thoughts were swirling in his head, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I- did I hurt you? Is that- is that why you stabbed me, you thought you were defending-”

“I did what?!” Obi-Wan paled, jumping up from his seat.

Anakin winced. “It’s nothing, that’s actually not important. I’m healed anyway so forget I mentioned it-”

Obi-Wan moaned, stumbling backwards over the fallen chair. “Of force- when you were trying to save me- I had a blade. I cut you down-” He tripped backwards, collapsing to the ground.

“Master!” Anakin lurched forwards, but the older Jedi scrambled back.

“I forgot my spray bottle in there,” Bant whispered outside the door. “Do you think it’s too late to go back for it?”

Mace peered subtly through the small window in the door. “Yes. They’re already on the ground. I think they’re both crying.”

“It’s been less than a minute!”

“Yes.”

“...We should go.”

“Yes.”

Unaware of their muffled audience, the two continued their conversation.

“Don’t- don’t touch me!” Obi-Wan gasped, back hitting a wall. “I don’t- I don’t deserve-”

The young knight reared back, falling from a crouch to his knees, “Is this...about the Tuskens again?

Obi-Wan blinked in confusion. “The Tuskens? What about Tuskens?”

“You don’t...remember?” The air grew cold and Anakin forced himself to continue, “What- what we talked about in the cave?”

“What we- I-” Obi-Wan thought furiously. “...Anakin. What did...what were you apologizing for in the cave? What- what did you think we were talking about?”

“Oh gods.” Anakin paled now, shuffling back.

“What are they doing now?” Bant asked the taller Master.

“They’re taking turns chasing each other back and forth on their hands and knees. They both look like they’re seconds away from passing out or throwing up.”

“I...is this a human thing?”

“No. What? Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know! Do you think this is how they usually talk to each other?”

“I think perhaps they don’t talk to each other, and that’s why they’re like this.”

“Right, right... I really want to hear what they’re saying.”

“Hm. I don’t.”

“Why are you also standing outside the door then?”

“I want to be ready to intervene if they start trying to kill each other.”

“FORCE”

“Quiet!”

“Sorry. Sorry. You think they fought then? In the...other timeline?”

“...It would explain Obi-Wan’s shatterpoint remnants better than anything else.”

“Not to mention the spice.”

“I thought we were politely ignoring the spice.”

“...and then I brought her back to the homestead for burial.” Anakin bowed his head, tears streaming against his will. “I thought...Master I know I can’t fix this but I’m sorry- I already stepped down from my position as General so I wouldn’t be in a position to kill anyone else- I need you to forgive me.”

“Oh Anakin.”

“What? What happened?” Bant asked urgently. 

The Master of the Order appeared unruffled in the force and human visible light, but the tips of his ears were heating up in infrared. She stood on her toes to see in.

“Oh- they’re hugging? Seriously? That’s what you’re embarrassed to see?”

“They’re clinging to each other like younglings. It’s undignified for a Jedi Master and Knight”

“Alright that’s it- we’re going. I really don’t think Anakin’s going to jump from crying and hugs to murder.”

Unaware of their newfound privacy, the two inside withdrew from their embrace, still sniffling slightly. 

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin said in a shaky tone. “I swear I won’t let you down, I’m going to do better.”

“I know, my padawan, I know. I’m going to be there to help you this time, I’m not going to leave you alone with- well I’m not going to leave you alone.”

Anakin smiled wetly at Obi-Wan’s careful avoidance of Chancellor Palpatine’s supposed Sith alter ego, refocusing on Obi-Wan and making intense eye contact.

“What did you think we were talking about?”

Obi-Wan looked down. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “It- it never happened.”

“Ori’vod, please. You- you mentioned younglings. I did something else unforgivable didn’t I?”

Obi-Wan smiled but didn’t look up. “And i forgave you anyway. Even when I thought your apology was just a fantasy. But it wasn’t, it was real, and- and the people actually are unmurdered so...it’s not worth talking about it.”

Anakin bit the inside of his cheek, gut roiling. “You...really think I might have a chip in me?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped up. “I...don’t know. I didn’t even know that Cody had a chip in him.”

“You just...were suddenly betrayed by everyone.” 

“Not...everyone. Most who refused to fall in line were executed, of course, but there were a few senators who stood with the Jedi, secretly.” 

A new wave of cold terror passed over Anakin. “What happened with the other senators?”

“Like I said to the council earlier, from what I heard they cheered Palpatine on. Thunderous applause.”

“That’s not what I mean- Padme, Was Padme alright?”

Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands, shuddering.

“Anakin- I don’t know what to tell you,” he said in muffled voice. “I don’t want to deceive you but- things were dark. If I tell you everything now, I’m afraid of what you’ll do.”

Anakin winced. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I’m not...evil. I just...I messed up, and I want to make things better.”

Obi-Wan sighed, and pulled Anakin so they were seated next to each other in a mirror of the false peace a few days earlier. Anakin leaned into his Master’s side, feeling the cold retreat. “You’re not evil Anakin, but what you did to the Tusken village wasn’t exactly a small thing. I- look- Ad’ika-”

Obi-Wan hesitantly placed an arm around Anakin’s shoulder and the cold retreated a bit more.

“If the council accepts my plan, we’re going to have time together over the next few weeks, to talk more about...everything. We’re going to end the war- save everyone. I know the cave wasn’t what either of us thought it was, but it still meant the galaxy to me. I love you, no matter what...and that conversation, what you said. Well, it gave me the strength to go on, to do what I needed to.” Obi-Wan froze. “Not my, um, self-inflected injuries- that’s- obviously that wasn’t your fault-”

“You thought you were hallucinating. I know.” Anakin smiled, feeling honestly amused at the absurdity situation for the first time. “I’m going to mock you for that for the rest of our lives, you know that, right?”

“I look forward to it.” Obi-Wan smiled.

A vise that had been clenched around Anakin’s heart since he broke down the door to their apartment finally relaxed. “You really weren’t trying to kill yourself,” he sighed happily.

“I was attempting to stay alive. Honestly concerned about dehydration. I wanted to stay in the daydream, but I knew I couldn’t. And part of that was because you gave me the strength to keep going. Sorry I did such a bad job honoring that but, well. You know. Thank you, Anakin. For saving me twice over.” Obi-Wan’s voice was utterly earnest, though it was a touch more embarrassed than he was used to after the single day of utter unrestraint. 

Anakin’s eyes welled up. “I’ve been- I hated that you would just leave like that, give up-”

“Never Anakin,” Obi-Wan vowed. “I will never give up on you, or this galaxy.”

He twisted so he could throw both arms around his padawan.

“I swear by everything I am I will keep going. It’s... in my nature but gods is it easier with you besides me.”

“Even though i’m a child murderer twice over and once removed?” Anakin joked weakly, clinging desperately to Obi-Wan’s presence.

Obi-Wan shuddered. “Too soon, Anakin. Too soon.”

Part XXI

[fanficimagery]

a field of daisies

Imagine running into a group of survivors that you decide to take a chance on and bring them home with you. Your decision ends up leading to a reunion no one saw coming, not even yourself.

Words: 7.1K Author's Note: TWD AU. This particular universe has a lot of characters and making sure everyone has a line or three is tough work, so I made up my mind to only keep a select few. This will take place after the prison has fallen, but before Terminus so the group is not as harsh because of what happened there. I get why everyone turned ruthless, but damn.. Rick got scary. Haha. Also, just so you know, Y/N is a powered individual (the gif of Wanda is just to show how your powers look/work). SPOILER ALERT! This piece of work is.. slow. There's nothing much to it- it's honestly just Y/N bringing the group into the fold. I've been having a rough few weeks and it really shows in my writing. I'm sorry this sucks, but I really needed to get something out.

It was pure dumb luck that Rick, Daryl, Michonne, Carl, Judith, Glenn, Maggie and Carol ended up together after the fall of the prison. Rick and Carl had fled together, Michonne followed the blood trail Rick had unknowingly left behind, and Daryl had later caught up to them because he was with a new group that was hunting Rick which he didn't know about until it was too late. Daryl, Rick and Michonne took care of things quickly, and it was a relief to Rick that Daryl still had his back.

Glenn and Maggie came a couple days later with Judith snuggled into a makeshift pack hanging off of Glenn's back, and the group stumbled upon Carol who kept them from entering the so-called sanctuary called Terminus. Apparently she had been keeping an eye on the place from afar, and after the horrors she witnessed Rick and the others were glad they just so happened to choose the entrance she was near so that she was able to stop them.

Hershel's death still weighed heavily on everyone's mind and Maggie was sad that she didn't know what had become of her sister Beth. Lots of people's fates were unknown, but the ones that left everyone the most downtrodden were those of the children that the prison had housed.

The group has taken momentary refuge in a barn, their spirits low and dwindling even more as the days pass. Food and water were scarce, and ammunition was pretty much nonexistent. Daryl had a handful of arrows left and everyone was left to depend on blades to protect themselves.

Judith's sudden cry pierces the quiet of the barn and everyone flinches. Rick readily gets to his feet, rushing towards his daughter and lifting her from the bed of hay they designated as her bed. "Shh. I got 'ya. I got 'ya, sweetheart."

Carl joins his father, frowning at his sister's reddening face. "She's hungry, isn't she?"

"We all are," Rick grumbles.

"There's got to be something out there," the young boy sighs. "A place we haven't come across or a house that's not been picked clean."

"Everyone's tired, Carl. We're all running on fumes." Rick continues to rock his baby girl, heart breaking when her wails only get louder and more desperate. "If we go searchin', we're likely to make a mistake and someone will lose their life."

"Well we can't let her starve."

Rick glances around his exhausted group, a look of determination in each of their features. He sighs and glances down at Judith in his arms. "Tomorrow. We'll go lookin' when the sun is up."

Carl nods and brushes his finger along Judith's brow before leaving his father to settle the baby down on his own.

          - - - - - - - - - - 

You'd been gone for a day and half now, intent on finding some things those in your community have asked for. Unfortunately everything close by had been picked clean which led you to driving further and further out, and right into an oncoming storm.

You tried to drive right on through it, but the rain just came down so hard to the point that you could not see through the windshield. And since it was nighttime, you knew there was a high chance you could wreck. So you pull off to the side, cut the engine and lean back in your seat to wait it out.

Thunder rumbles so loud it actually shakes the truck you're in and lightning strikes a tree not even a hundred yards away. "Oh screw this," you mumble to yourself. You turn the truck back on, carefully inching your way down the road and hope that you don't hit anything. But then lightning strikes again, you swerve on instinct, but are quick to slam on the breaks. "Shit."

There's a split second of reprieve from the rain- just long enough for you to see a building off in the distance. You know it's a dumb idea to even check it out, but you rather be in a barn struck by lightning than be in the truck. So after cutting the engine once more, you reach over to the passenger seat for your pack and beanie. Shoving the gray beanie down atop your head, you brace yourself before opening the door and hopping out.

Slamming the door behind you, you rush through the rain and towards the barn doors. Pushing on said doors, they open far too easily and you rush to close them behind you. Then with your back against the doors, you hold your hands aloft at your sides should you need to protect yourself from a dead skull or three. But surprisingly there are no dead in the barn, instead a group of the living around a small fire stare at you with wide eyes.

Immediately the people are on their feet with their weapons trained on you, a baby is passed off to a preteen, and the group of adults slowly advance on you.

"Whoa," you utter. "I did not know this place was occupied. I don't mean any harm. M'just tryin' to get out of the storm."

"Are you alone?" The man that had passed off the baby asks, a long barreled gun pointed at you.

His companions spread out- a guy with a crossbow hurrying to the wall to peek through the cracks. There's a Korean guy and a woman with hair just barely touching her shoulders standing side by side, blades in hand, and a black woman with a wicked looking katana held at the ready. The last woman with shortly cropped gray hair points a glock right at you without even blinking.

"Um, yeah."

"You don't sound so sure," he grunts.

"Well you're all pointing weapons at me," you say. "It's a little intimidating."

Crossbow guy returns to his friend's side, shaking his head and muttering something too low for your ears to catch. The main guy talking nods meeting your gaze once more. "Weapons?"

"None."

"Mind if we check?"

You shrug. "Have at it."

Spreading your arms out wider, you push off the barn doors and stand with your feet a little spread out as well. The woman standing next to the Korean guy steps forward and cautiously makes her way towards you. You meet her gaze, keeping your expression neutral, but give her a nod to let her know you were good with what was going on. Her hands land on your waist then, patting you down and checking for weapons.

Her hands slide up your sides and under your arms, and you press your lips tighter together when she hits your ticklish spot. A giggle ends up breaking free and you immediately apologize when she freezes. You think you see her faintly grin before she continues on down your legs and around your ankles.

"She's clean," the woman says as she stands back up and then steps back.

"What's in the bag?"

"My snacks," you muse. "I was looking for a few things and had to travel out further than normal. I've been driving for nearly two days now."

"You got a group?"

"I have a community." They seem to blink in surprise at that.

Crossbow guy looks at who you assume is their leader. "Explains the too clean clothes," he grunts. Then looking at you, he says, "But 'ya damn stupid to be out here with no weapons. It's a goddamn miracle 'ya survived this long."

"Mister, I am the weapon." That seems to make the tense all over again, frowning, and you sigh. "Look, I'm not normal. I don't need weapons because I am literally the ultimate weapon. Now if that makes you uncomfortable, I'll stay my butt over here and just wait out the storm. Then I'll be on my way and we never have to see each other again unless we run into each other in the future. That sound good?"

No one voices a complaint against you so you walk over to one of the wooden beams supporting the barn and take a seat on the ground. You get comfortable, stripping your pack off your back and setting it next to you. The group has no idea what to make of you so they continue to stare at you until the baby in the preteen's arms starts to fuss.

Minutes pass as the baby continues to wail, her cries only getting louder. The thunder doesn't seem as loud as before, so you know if there are any dead nearby they'll be drawn towards the barn because of the baby's cries.

"When was the last time she ate?" You ask when you see them shush and rock her in order to calm her. A few of them glance at you and it's then you actually take in their appearances. They're exhausted. They're hungry. They're desperate. "Actually when was the last time any of you ate?"

Crossbow guy grumbles, but it's the preteen boy who answers. "Days. A week or so maybe."

Frowning, you pull your pack into your lap and open it up. Rummaging around the inside, your hand wraps around a small mason jar with a spoon rubber banded around it and you grin triumphantly. "I, uh, I have this if you want it," you say as you hold the jar up. "Mrs. Stevens makes a mean cinnamon applesauce." Your grin slowly falls as you take in their stares. "Or not. I won't be offended."

"No." The gray haired woman steps forward. "We'll take it, but you need to eat a spoonful yourself first."

"Uh, yeah. Sure, but I don't know why.." Your brow furrows as you free the spoon from the rubber band and untwist the top, and then it hits you on why they want you to eat it first. You gasp as you stare up at them. "First off, rude! Do I really look like I'm capable of poisoning a baby?"

No one says a word at first and then, "Well you did say 'ya were different."

You roll your eyes at the crossbow wielding guy. "Not that kind of different." Sticking the spoon into the applesauce, you pull up a spoonful and shove it into your mouth. Swallowing, you place the spoon back in the jar and hold it up. "Happy? It's just cinnamon applesauce."

The leader rushes forward and grabs the applesauce from you, sniffing it as he walks back towards his group and taking a spoonful for himself. When he deems it okay, he then feeds it to the baby girl. Almost immediately, her cries turn to whimpers before ceasing all together.

"You guys are welcome to whatever's in my pack because, no offense, but you look like you need it more than I do."

The Korean guy is the first to crack, rushing towards your pack that you let him freely rummage through. "Is this- is this jerky?"

"Yep. Mr. Mills has a knack for drying out meat and smoking fish."

As he passes out the jerky, water, and a few MRE's, he then looks at you with an astonished expression. "I'm Glenn, by the way. And this is Maggie." The woman who had patted you down gives you a terse smile.

"Michonne," the katana wielding badass says.

"Carol."

The man feeding the baby glances at you. "I'm Rick. These are my kids Carl and Judith."

You look towards the crossbow guy, but he's shoveling an MRE into his mouth and not paying you a lick of attention. "Y/N," you then introduce yourself to them.

You watch them eat for a few seconds before you avert your attention, listening to the sounds outside the barn. The storm seems like it's finally dying down, but the moans and groans of the dead seem to be getting closer and closer now. You get up and walk towards the door, peeking through the cracks and quietly exhaling at the small herd heading straight for the barn.

"You guys have something to prop against the door? We've got incoming."

A scoff comes from crossbow guy. "Thought 'ya were the ultimate weapon?"

"Daryl!" Carol admonishes.

Your eyes narrow at Daryl who shrugs under the stares of his group and you sigh. "Fine. Whatever. All I ask is that whatever you see, you ask questions before you decide to attack."

"Why- why would you say that?" Glenn asks.

"Because like I said, I'm not normal."

With that you turn around, opening the barn doors and stepping back. Staring at the small herd that's coming in, your left arm lifts up and curls around the front of your face as your right arm lifts up underneath. The only difference is that your left hand starts to glow and you swing back briefly before thrusting your left arm out and sending off a red wave of energy that rushes through the heads of the dead ones and instantly drops them in their tracks. You walk forward then and shut the doors, only to turn around and have Daryl aiming his crossbow at you.

"Seriously?" Your arms hang limp at your sides.

"What the hell are 'ya?"

"Human, as far as I know," you say. You mentally sigh as everyone shifts nervously. "Just with a little extra oomph."

"That was some sci-fi bullshit 'ya just pulled there."

"Well whatever it is, it's come in handy since the world fell apart so I'm not complaining about it anymore."

Rick, having passed Judith off to Carl, steps forward. "This community of yours, are there any more people like you?"

You shake your head. "Nah. I'm the only one."

"How many people are you with?" Carol asks.

"Around twenty or so. Me and this little girl I came across a while back are the youngest. Everyone else is sixty-five or above." You huff. "Kid guilt tripped me into saving a few individuals from a retirement home we came across and gave me the idea of a place safe enough to almost be normal."

"Exactly how safe is this place of yours?" Maggie then wonders as she glances at Judith and Carl.

"There's a, uh, shield of sorts around this abandoned housing community. The dead bounce off the invisible walls and the living need permission to enter which I'm smart enough not to give."

"People try gettin' in before?" Daryl asks.

"A group of three about a couple months back. I would have given thought to letting them in, but my powers kind of misfired and I was able to read their minds," you sheepishly admit. "They- they were not good people. Not by a long shot."

"What happened to 'em?"

"I put them to sleep and had a talk with everyone inside the community." You shrug. "I didn't know what to do, so I asked for everyone's advice. It was either kill them or manipulate their memories and send them on their way."

"What did you do?" Carl asks. He's the only one who has a look of awe on his face.

"I kept them asleep and drove them out in a random direction. After about two days driving, I put them up in an abandoned house and let them wake up long after I had left."

"Why are you answering all our questions?" Michonne asks. "Someone like you, it seems like you'd keep your powers a secret."

"Honestly? You're the first kind group I've seen in a long while. You saw what I could do and yet you asked questions first rather than letting Daryl put an arrow in me."

"Would my arrow have even reached 'ya?"

You smile at Daryl's grumpy expression. "Not even close." There's a challenge in his eyes and his arm twitches, but Rick shakes his head at his friend. You quietly chuckle. "If you guys wanna sit and talk, I'll answer what I can. I don't mind so long as you don't plan on attempting to put a bullet in my brain or a blade to my neck."

Everyone looks to Rick and eventually he gives a terse nod. They hesitantly go back to their fire, huddling closer together and you slowly make you way over to sit across from them. The baby seems rather content now so Rick finally takes a moment to eat something himself.

Bending your knees, you pull them in towards your chest and drop your chin on your knee. "So what do you wanna know?"

Glenn immediately leans forward. "First of all, this is something straight out of a comic book." He grins and you can't help but smile in return. Maggie snorts and shakes her head, rather fondly, at him. "So what I wanna know is if you were born like this or if you had a bad visit with the doctors?"

"I was born like this," you say. "I think it started manifesting when I was about eleven or twelve. Mom and dad were obviously terrified, but I was still their daughter and they refused to just let the government have me. It took- it took months of research before they found a legit scientist who was running tests on people like me in order to help. So they met up with him and let him poke and prod to get the answers everyone was seeking."

"Did they find anything out?" Carol asks.

You shake your head. "No. There were no abnormalities in my or my parent's blood, and every other test was coming back completely average. My powers or magic or whatever you wanna call it honestly scared me, so the scientist had concocted some pills that suppressed it. I never got to learn how to control it and only really got to see what I was capable of when the world collapsed and I ran out of suppressors."

"So what, you're just this powerhouse walking around without a care in the world?" Michonne frowns.

"I have many cares," you say, head lifting to stare directly at the woman over the fire. "I have a little girl and a handful of old geezers counting on me back home. I'm just fortunate enough to be this powerhouse, as you say, so the others don't have to come out into this shit show that has become our norm."

Judith starts to fuss again and neither her brother or father can calm her. You can see just how exhausted everyone is, so you take the initiative to help them out when you see Rick cringe after smelling the baby's bottom. Grabbing your pack, you grab the notebook in there and yank out a sheet of paper. Then letting the paper rest in the palms of your hands, you concentrate on the red wisps of energy pooling in your hands and transfigure the sheet of paper into a diaper. More sheets of paper are ripped out and you quickly transfigure those into small rags.

"There's a bucket in the back of my truck," you say as you hold out the diaper and rags. "I'm sure it's full of water by now so you can dip the rags into the water to wipe the baby down."

Rick blinks at you in surprise, walking over to you and grabbing the items. He nods. "Thank you." You flash him a faint smile in return.

He looks at Daryl and he hands over his crossbow to Carol. Taking the rags from Rick, he motions for Glenn to follow him should he run into any trouble outside.

The two men return soon enough and Rick readily starts to make his daughter comfortable once more. As she struggles against him and wildly kicks out, you chuckle and decide to let a small orb of red energy pool in your palm. Then flicking your wrist, the small red orb shoots over to hover above Judith and bob up and down. It does it's job, distracting her so her father can easily change her.

"That must come in handy back at your community," Maggie muses.

"I don't really show off like this in front of them," you sheepishly admit. "Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but they don't really ask me to do anything other than to help keep them safe and keep their houses from deteriorating." There are hums and grunts, but everyone is more interested in filling their stomachs. "Well if I'm going to be on my way come sun up, I should get some rest."

No one objects, so you get up and walk back over to the opposite side of the barn. You sit down in a corner, trying to find a comfortable enough position so you can get a bit of shut eye.

When you wake up, the sun has not fully risen yet. It's a little lighter in the barn and you can see without the small fire throwing off light, so it's easy to spot Rick keeping watch by the barn doors. You sit up, stretch, and sleepily climb to feet in order to join him.

"You guys rotated watch?" You mumble. "You should have woken me."

Rick grins. "Nah. We had it under control."

"If you say so."

His grin subtly falters and then he quietly clears his throat before glancing between you and his group. "So before you go on your way, can I have a word?"

"Sure." You yawn. "Lets just go outside so we don't wake anyone." At Rick's nod, you open the barn doors and exit as quietly as you can. He follows you outside and you glance around for any dead before crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face Rick. "What's going on?"

He stares at you, clearly trying to figure out how to voice his thoughts. It takes him a moment to gather himself and then finally he says, "I know we just met each other last night, but is there any chance- any chance you might be willin' to give us a chance? I'm supposed to be this group's leader, but I am runnin' on fumes here. We all are. We're desperate." Your heart goes out to him and you can't help but frown. You understand desperation very well and you figure it must be worse on him because of the two young children he has. "This world, as vulnerable as it is, it's not a place I want to raise my kids."

"Rick, I-" You pause, sigh and then start over. "Of course I'd be willing to give you guys a chance."

"But?" He pushes, seeing the flash of hesitance in your expression.

"No, no buts." You shake your head. "You just- if you guys want to be a part of this community, you have to actually want to be a part of the community. No drama or violence is permitted within the walls. My sole focus is making sure these people live as long as possible and I won't have anyone jeopardizing that."

Rick nods. "We're all for playing fair. All we're askin' for is a chance. A real chance at survivin'."

"Well then I guess today's your lucky day." You hold out a hand for him to shake. He holds your gaze before glancing down at your hand and hesitantly reaching forward to grasp it. "So do you want to tell them the good news or..?"

Rick huffs a laugh of disbelief as he retakes his hand. "Are- are 'ya serious?"

"Yeah. Why not." You shrug. "The community could use a good shake up, so come on. Lets go wake your people up."

You and Rick re-enter the barn, but you let him wake his family and friends on his own. You gather your pack, tossing the trash and rearranging what's left. Rick tells them the good news and you smile when you see them sag in relief. They have no belongings whatsoever, so they pick up what weapons they have and make to exit the barn.

"Um, Carl and one other person can sit up front with me. Three others can squeeze into the backseat with Judith and two can ride in the very back." There are nods of agreement all around before Daryl and Glenn climb into the bed of the truck. Meeting Daryl's gaze, you say, "You and Glenn keep watch. If you see anyone, pound on the roof. I don't want anyone following us."

He gives you a terse nod. "Got it."

"Or if you and Glenn want to switch out with someone from the inside, pound on the roof. I'm gonna drive as long as I can, but if anyone wants to stop during the night we will."

Everyone seems to agree, letting you decide whether or not you drive through the night. You'll make that decision when the time comes, so as everyone else climbs into the cab of the truck you open the driver's side door and get behind the wheel. You bite back a smirk as you grip the steering wheel in hand, red wisps of energy wrapping around the wheel before disappearing into the guts under the hood.

"So that's why we didn't hear the rumble of an engine," Rick muses. "It's runnin' on magic."

"Beats having to find and siphon gas," you say. Everyone chuckles and after making sure Daryl and Glenn are steady, you drive off.

Not even five seconds in and you hear, "What the hell kind of truck is this?"

Daryl's gruff question makes everyone inside the cab laugh, but no one bothers to fill him in.

          - - - - - - - - - - 

You drive well into the afternoon, only stopping when Glenn and Daryl grow too hot under the sun and switch out with Rick and Michonne. The bit of food you had left in your pack was divided up among the others again and then when the sun set you had stopped to instruct those in the bed of the truck that they could sit or lay down since they wouldn't be able to see anything come nightfall anyway.

Your constant yawning had Maggie concerned, but you assured her you'd done a drive like this numerous times. All you asked was that they talk to you, so to keep things light they told you all about their accomplishments since the world had ended. Carl mentioned being reunited with his dad after being told he was dead, Maggie mentioned finding love with Glenn on her father's farm, and Daryl mentioned finding a prison that they stayed in after clearing it out as much as they could.

You didn't bother asking what had happened to the farm or the prison because you knew full well what happened to places left out in the open. Sooner or later they got taken over, whether it be by the dead or living. So when they ran out of happy tales, you filled them in on your own. You told them all about coming across the retirement home- about how you and Daisy (the young girl you had saved) were allowed to stay with them for a bit while you went out everyday to find a more suitable living situation. You had still been experimenting with your powers, so it was a miracle you managed to fix up an entire housing community and erect walls around it.

Only about half of those in the retirement home chose to go with you and Daisy, and that was even after finding out what you were capable of. The others were grateful for the invite, but they had families they wanted to look for or were too old and didn't want to be a burden on anyone. No amount of pleading from Daisy could sway their decisions.

A new day dawns and the environment around you starts to become familiar. You perk up in your seat and drive just a little faster because after being out for so long all you want is your bed and a shower.

Only you can see the entrance to the community and you know the others can only see what everyone else without permission to enter sees- a run down housing community that was way passed being livable. So stopping right before the barrier, you gesture for everyone to get off with you after letting the truck cut off.

"What's going on?" Rick asks as he hops out of the bed. Michonne follows him.

Facing the group, you grin. "The community is just behind me," you say while gesturing over your shoulder. You see them glance behind you, frowns marring their faces. "You're just seeing what I want everyone who passes by to see- a place not worth investigating. So with your consent," you hold a hand out just at shoulder height, letting a red glow envelop it, "I just need to push a little energy through you so you can see what I see."

Everyone is caught off guard and wary now, but surprisingly it's Carl who says something. "Will it hurt?"

You glance down at him and smile. "Not at all. I promise. Everyone inside has admitted to it feeling like a cold chill running through them and then nothing. Absolutely no pain."

As you guessed, everyone looks to Rick. He takes a moment to think about it before saying, "Do it. But if there's any pain at all-"

"There's not."

"Good." He nods. "So what do we do?"

"Just stand there. I'm the one who has to do all the work." Letting your arms hang down by your sides, you shake yourself out before concentrating on letting your power pool into your hands once more. Then when it feels like you have enough energy to pass through all eight individuals, you face your palms towards them and push out. The energy leaves you and passes through them, and only a couple of them stumble back a step or gasp in surprise. When they finally take notice of what's actually behind you and their jaws drop, you chuckle. "Welcome to your new home."

"How- it looks untouched." Carol mumbles in awe.

"Well it wasn't," you say. "It took me a few days to fix up several blocks of houses. Then about a week to get the solar panels set in with the help of our retired electrician. We were just lucky a water tower was placed close by and the new water lines were set in before the world ended. It's easy to keep the tower operational and our houses supplied with running water."

"This is insane," Glenn mutters in awe. Maggie nods along with his assessment.

"When you reach the barrier, you're going to feel a little resistance. That's normal." you then explain to them. "All you have to do is keep walking through and you'll come out on the other side."

"And if we wanna leave?" Daryl asks. Everyone looks at him as if he's crazy for already thinking about leaving, but he merely huffs and explains further. "To hunt or make runs, not find shelter elsewhere."

You shrug. "Then you leave. You'll feel the resistance again, but that's just so you remember where the barrier is. Now that you've been given permission, you can come and go as you please. But please remember, once you're behind the barrier, anyone who hasn't been given permission to enter will just see you vanish into thin air. So make sure you're never followed or if you are make a beeline for the barrier and come get me. I'll get them outta here." Everyone seems to be in agreement and you smile. "Well come on. Let's go find you a house or two."

Turning around, you readily walk towards the neighborhood. The resistance of entering doesn't faze you as it once did, so you hurriedly turn around to see everyone's reactions. You see when they hesitate and you laugh as they continue on through and seem to all breathe a sigh of relief. Then once they have their wits about them, you gesture for them to follow you.

A few people are sitting out on their porches, some surprised and others (looking at you Gladys) are ecstatic.

A wolf whistle pierces the air and everyone glances in the direction it came from. "'Bout time you brought in some good lookin' fellas! I was getting tired of looking at Tom's ugly mug."

Michonne and Carol snort as Maggie and Carl giggle, and you shake your head at the white haired, seventy-eight year old woman. "Gladys, stop teasin' the men. They literally just got here!" You holler back.

"Any of them single?"

"Oh my god. Go take a cold shower, you cougar!" Gladys cackles and you groan quietly before looking over your shoulder. "Sorry about that. I should have warned you about Gladys and her tendency to hit on any man that isn't her neighbor."

"S'alright." Rick chuckles. "It'll be nice to have some normalcy back in our lives."

"What's with the bars on the doors?" Michonne then wonders.

You look at one house in particular, it's front door having another door of bars attached in front of it as well. "The houses with bars on their doors were requested by those living in the house. These people are at the age where they can easily pass away in their sleep without warning, and after an incident back at their retirement home they requested bars on the doors as a precaution. They lock in a couple of places from the inside."

They seem to agree that that was a good idea as you nod at everyone else coming out to see what Gladys was yelling about. When you spot Mary Alice, a sixty-seven year old ex-nurse, you start to walk towards her house. "Hey Mary Alice, have you seen Daisy around? I want to introduce her to some new people."

Mary Alice stands up and walks over to the top stair of her porch. "Oh. Hello." She beams. "It's nice to see some capable, new faces around here."

"Ma'am," Rick drawls.

You can practically see Mary Alice swoon and you mumble, "You're going to give every goddamn old lady heart palpitations in here," under your breath. Rick chuckles and you clap your hands to garner Mary Alice's attention once more. "Mary! Where's Daisy?"

"Oh, um." She pauses as she fluffs her hair. "Last I saw her, Dave had asked her to help him pick some fruit from the garden."

"Okay. Thanks." Turning around to face the group, you smile sheepishly. "Maybe I'll just show you to your house first. Daisy might be busy for a bit longer." You're about to motion for them to follow you when you see Daisy appear from between two houses, munching on an apple and looking as carefree as a child her age should be. She meets your gaze from across the street, but before you can draw any attention to her you notice her steps falter as the most heartbreaking expression takes over her features when she sees who's with you. For a second you think this group might not be as innocent as they seemed, but then-

"Momma?"

Time seems to slow as Carol, of all people, freezes and then turns around. She stumbles back, hand going to her mouth in shock as she chokes on a sob. "S-Sophia?"

Your eyes widen at what's unfolding before you- Daisy (apparently Sophia) dropping her apple core before sprinting across the street. Carol meets her halfway, the two colliding with one another as their cries pierce the air. The rest of Carol's group looks on in awe before they join in on the reunion and you laugh as your vision suddenly blurs with unshed tears.

You startle when an arm settles across your shoulders and you glance over at Mary Alice smiling as she watches the reunion as well. "Did you know?"

"Not a clue," you say. "This is just an insane coincidence."

As everyone else takes a turn reuniting with the young girl and introducing her to the new faces, Carol glances up at you and starts to make her way over. You smile as she nears. "My Sophia was the kid you mentioned, wasn't she? The girl you saved before you came across the retirement home."

"Yeah. I just didn't know her name was Sophia." You chuckle. "She said something about her name making her sad because it reminded her of her mom, so she chose a new one."

"Why Daisy?"

You shrug. "Because we were walking through a field of daisies and she liked the sound of it."

Carol wetly chuckles and you give a surprised oh when she yanks you into a hug. "Thank you. Thank you for keeping my baby girl safe."

"No thanks needed, Carol. Whether your daughter knows it not, Daisy- er, Sophia- saved me as well. I'm just glad I could reunite the two of you."

The two of you pull out of the hug just to see the rest of the group making their way towards you, and Sophia hurries to wrap her arms around your waist. "Thank you. Thank you for finding my family."

"Don't even mention it, kid." You ruffle her hair, chuckling. "I'm just glad you found each other again." As you look up to meet everyone's house, you say, "So about your house.."

The group chuckle and you finally lead them to a couple empty houses just down the block you currently reside on. You inform them that every house in the neighborhood was built with four bedrooms and two bathrooms. Rick tells you they'll take just the one house for now until they're acquainted with their surroundings and you let him know that that was fine, but in a few days you were taking a group out to pick out furniture and appliances for two houses.

Daryl scoffs. "Where exactly does one go shoppin' in the goddamn apocalypse?"

"In the store Y/N hid with her magic. Duh!" Sophia muses. Daryl glances down at the young girl before a smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. She beams at him and he playfully reaches out to ruffle her hair.

"So, uh, yeah," you muse. "You guys can go ahead and wait here while I go round up a few sleeping bags that we can transform into mattresses," you tell them. "The water should be working, but you might want to run the faucets and showers for a minute or so to make sure all the air is out of the pipes." You start to back away down the sidewalk, heading towards your house. "I'll even knock on a few doors and see if there are any shirts and pants anyone is willing to let go of so you guys can shower. You can change into clean clothes while washing those you have on right now."

Before anything can be said, you turn around and make your way towards your house. You're not sure why all of sudden you became nervous- there is nothing to be nervous about- but you felt yourself suddenly getting anxious under all their gazes.

It doesn't take you long to find a few sleeping bags in your garage, so you take those with you while stopping by next door. You ask your neighbors for any sleeping bags or air mattresses, as well as a change of clothes, and they're all too happy to accommodate the newest residents of your sleepy little community. So by the time you make it back to the house where you had left the group, arms laden with bags that are threatening to cut off the circulation in your arms, you aren't surprised to see some of them already holding dishes of food.

"These old ladies sure do work fast." You laugh. Rick and Glenn are quick to pass off the dishes in their hands in favor of helping you bring in the stuff for them. They take the sleeping bags from you, leaving you with large shopping bags full of clothing. "So do you guys want everything set up downstairs or you do want to sleep in separate rooms already?"

"Downstairs is fine," Rick says. "At least for now."

In the living room, the sleeping bags are all rolled out and the air mattress is blown up. Rick settles Judith down on the mattress and Carl is quick to crawl on next to her. You've only enlarged one sleeping bag- the one Glenn and Maggie seemed to have gravitated to- when Rick stops you, telling you that you've done more than for him and his family. You ask him if he's sure and he nods, but you can't help just one last wiggle of your fingers to give the sleeping bags a little extra cushion.

"So I guess I'll leave you to it," you say. "In the bag with the clothes, there are plates and utensils. Everyone's offered up their laundry rooms for you to use, but if you're uncomfortable encroaching in on their houses then just get Sophia to show you to mine."

There's a round of thank yous as you leave so you wave and let them settle in. As you're walking out the front door, before you can shut it behind you, someone's gripping it and opening it wider. You're surprised to see Daryl follow you out.

"Everything good?" You ask.

"Yeah." He nods, hands finding their way into his jean's pockets. He shuffles rather sheepishly and you can't help but grin. "Yeah. All good here." You nod and turn to head down the stairs, only for his gruff voice to stop you in your tracks and make you turn back around once more. "Thanks. You didn't have to bring us in or trust us with your secret, but 'ya did. You gave my group a fightin' chance- 'ya gave those kinds in the house a fightin' chance. So thanks."

You smile at him. "You're welcome." He meets your gaze for a moment, eyes hidden behind a curtain of hair and you chuckle. "Go grab a plate of food and a shower, Daryl. You guys are safe here so relax. All of you look like you can sleep for days."

He shakes his head. "We still got people out there."

"And that sucks, I'm sure, but you need to look after yourself first," you say. "You won't be doing anyone any good if you're falling over your own two feet because you're beyond exhausted." Daryl shifts on his feet, his expression turning rather displeased. "Rest up and I promise that when you and a couple others are ready, I'll be right there with you to find your people."

Daryl holds your gaze before he relaxes a bit and he gives you a terse nod. "Fine. Until then, 'ya gotta learn not to rely on 'ya powers or whatever. Gotta keep that a secret until the last second."

Your nose wrinkles and then you sigh. "And here I thought I was done with physical education."

[thebluewritingbench]

the wrong side of a second

or, how 5x8 might have gone if Lena didn't succeed in turning off Mount Norquay's Kryptonite cannons on time

A tribute to Lena at her worst, if a few extra seconds had put her beyond forgiveness. It's an angsty one - cw for major character death, if that's something you'd rather avoid at all costs

(also on ao3, if that's more your speed)

+

The walls of the cell are white, clean, pristine. Three blank, empty, one of glass. There’s a bench, long enough to lie down on, too hard to be comfortable.

Lena stares at the white walls. They’re bright enough to make her eyes hurt, but she can’t look away from them. Can’t blink. If she blinks, she’ll see the moment again. Her eyes sting from the effort of holding them open for so long.

They separated her and Hope the moment they arrived at the DEO. Lena doesn’t really remember how they got back here. She doesn’t remember anything after the blast hit, after the sky lit up with green like the Northern Lights, after the screaming started. Her screaming. She was the one screaming. She’s not sure why she isn’t still lying crumpled on the floor on the bunker, like she should be.

There were strong arms grabbing her the second they appeared, guns pointed at them from all directions. Cuffs being pressed into her wrists. She’s not sure why they bothered. She wasn’t trying to escape. She’s here of her own volition.

She’s still wearing the clothes she was wearing at the bunker. The ponytail is so tight that her head aches, but she doesn’t bother trying to pull it out.

She wonders if she can just die, right here, right now, if she uses enough willpower.

She’s so cold that it might as well be her lying in the snow at the bottom of a mountain.

Footsteps approach her cell, loud and echoing through the hallway. She doesn’t look away from the wall when the person comes to a halt in front of her cell, but their shadow blocks out some of the brightest light.

“Last I heard, she was heading to Mount Norquay to stop you,” says Alex. “So, I’m going to ask now, calmly. Where is Supergirl?”

Lena sucks in a breath. Maybe this was why she came back. There was this to do.

This one last horrible thing. This living nightmare of a thing.

She opens her mouth, doesn’t remember any words. She closes it again. There’s bile at the back of her throat. Alex allows her a long, hearty pause before she speaks again.

“We’ve got your little… mind-controlled slave locked up. She refuses to tell us anything. So, I’m asking you. Where the fuck is my sister.”

My sister. It’s the first time she’s heard Alex use those words to refer to Supergirl. Lena closes her eyes, desperate to escape Alex’s voice. As soon as she does, the inside of her eyelids fill with green, and she watches the tiny figure in the center of a sea of neon arch, convulse, fall, down down down. She sucks in a sharp breath through her nose, wrenching her eyes open.

“Supergirl is dead,” she says, looking directly at Alex. “I killed her.”

Every muscle in Alex’s body goes perfectly still. “What?”

“The cannons at Mount Norquay. They were Kryptonite. I tried to turn them off. I wasn’t fast enough.”

Alex’s hands are starting to shake. “You’re lying,” she says.

Yes, Lena wants to say. I just wanted to hurt you, for a moment. It’s not real. “No,” she says instead. “I’m not.”

“Luthor. Tell me you’re fucking lying.” The shaking has moved up her arms.

I wish I could. “I’m not lying. What reason would I have to lie?”

“Kara is not fucking dead. You didn’t kill her, you hear me? She’s survived way worse than you. Do you know the kind of things she’s survived? You’re not powerful enough to kill Supergirl. You’re deluding yourself to think that you could be,” she spits out her words, venomous in the same insidious, green way as Kryptonite.

Lena can’t close her eyes. She can’t look away, back at the white walls. She can’t look down at her lap, like a child scolded. She can’t do anything but stare into Alex’s eyes and watch the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders, the twisting of her facial expressions. She doesn’t know what to say. There’s nothing to say. Words stick to the dry roof of her mouth.

Something in Alex’s face shifts more panicked with each moment of silence that ticks by. Lena swallows, digs her nails hard into her palms. Alex’s fist bangs into the glass in front of her, and it shudders. Lena flinches.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“They were Lex’s cannons,” says Lena, her voice unsteady, and each word takes a mountain’s worth of effort. “He didn’t design them to incapacitate. He designed them to kill. I could have disabled them, if I’d just had a few more seconds. It would have only taken a few more seconds.”

“A few more seconds,” Alex repeats blankly.

There have been so many instances in their lives when a few seconds made the difference between life and death. So many instances where they just managed to come out on the right side of those few seconds, just managed to keep everyone safe.

This time, they came out on the wrong side.

“Lena,” says Alex. “Tell me my little sister isn’t dead. Tell me you didn’t kill Kara.”

Lena looks down at her hands. The response that comes to the tip of her tongue is I didn’t mean to, but it’s too juvenile, too blameless. “I can’t.”

“Fucking hell,” says Alex, turning away, digging her hands into her hair. “God, fuck.” She whips back around to face Lena. “I thought you were on our side! I thought you were someone we could trust! Kara thought you were someone we could trust! Do you know how many times she’s stuck her neck out for you? Risked her identity? Risked everything?” She’s yelling, and it vibrates in Lena’s bones. She wants to flinch, wants to close her eyes and wait for it to be over like she has every time it’s been Lex or Lillian, but she can’t. She can’t, because this time it’s her fault. This time she deserves it.

Lex would be proud of her, she realizes. Lex would be delighted that his weapon worked so well.

How far she has fallen.

“She’s not dead,” says Alex. “You’re lying, and you’re despicable, and Kara is not dead.”

“She is, Alex,” says Lena, leaning forwards, and she’s shaking too, can’t get it out of her voice or her lungs. “She is, she is, Kara’s dead. I watched the cannons go off. I watched her fall. I saw her hit the ground. I saw it, I saw it all, and I wasn’t fast enough to stop it, I would have stopped it. All I needed was a few more seconds. Just a few.”

She feels the few seconds in her chest, a deep, hollow, aching squeezing. If she’d only been a little bit faster. If only she’d never pressed deploy. If only she’d never gone to Mount Norquay. If only she’d confronted Kara at the beginning. If only she’d known all along.

If only, if only.

“I don’t believe you,” says Alex, shaking her head.

“I wish I was lying. God, I wish I was lying.”

“She’s my sister. She’s my sister and you killed her, you killed her.”

“I know,” says Lena, and she’s starting to cry. “I know, I know.”

“Don’t fucking cry,” says Alex, slamming her fist into the glass beside Lena’s head again. “You’re not allowed to fucking cry, do you hear me? You lost that right! You lost that right when you blasted my little sister out of the goddamn sky! This is your fault, this is all your fault!”

“I know,” Lena sobs.

“Stop fucking saying that!” Alex yells. “Stop it, just stop it, just…” She turns abruptly on her heel and strides away, and Lena thinks that she’s finally going to leave and let her hate herself in peace, but Alex stops before she can round the corner. She’s still for several moments, her breathing loud and harsh, and then she turns again to face Lena.

“You want to know what the worst part is? She was in love with you. And I know she was fucking obtuse about it, but I also know that you weren’t. You knew that she was in love with you. You knew that you were in love with her. You knew, and you still…? How could you still…?”

“I wanted to hurt her,” Lena whispers. “I wanted to hurt her like she hurt me, and then I didn’t want anyone to hurt ever again.”

“You wanted to hurt her? So you killed her? So you left her rotting in the snow at the base of your little mountain fortress? Because I sure as hell don’t remember her doing any of that to you.”

The childish words slip out before she can stop them, barely audible. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to? Does that fucking matter?She’s dead either way, isn’t she? Your intentions don’t mean shit, this isn’t something you can just apologize for and get fixed! It’s not one of your little basement experiments that we all stayed silent about because Kara insistedyour intentions were good. You can’t just say sorry and cry into her arms to fix this, Lena.”

And there’s nothing she can say, no defense to Alex’s words, so she just stares at her hands and shakes and sobs quietly, tears streaming hot and fast down her face and falling into her lap in a steady drip.

“Stop it,” screams Alex, anguished, composure gone. “Fucking stop it!”

“I can’t,” Lena chokes out. “I can’t, I can’t.”

She can tell by the fury that’s radiating off Alex that she wants to shake Lena, or slap her, or punch her into the ground, but that’s she’s holding herself back because she knows that it won’t be satisfying. Knows that Lena won’t fight back, that she’ll just take it quietly.

There’s nothing Lena could do or say right now to make any of this better. There’s no better to this situation.

“What kind of person does that? What kind of person kills the only other person in the world that they truly love? What kind of person could bear to let that happen?” says Alex, hollow.

“You think I can bear it?” says Lena. She runs her fingernails down her arms, sharp, repeats the motion, repeats again.

“I think you’re going to have to,” says Alex, and her voice takes on a sharp, ugly quality as she steps back towards the cell. “Because I sure as hell am not going to let you die. Oh, don’t give me that look,” she says, when Lena looks up, startled. “Believe me, I want to kill you. I don’t think there would be anything more satisfying in the world right now than taking you out myself and letting you rot. But that would be too merciful for you. You would just… get away without any of the consequences. No, Lena, I hope you live a long, miserable life, and that every second is consumed by thinking about what you’ve done. You’ve annihilated one of the only things that still gave people hope in this world. You were trying to prevent people from being able to feel hurt again? That’s all they’ll feel now, because of you. You didn’t just kill Supergirl, you just killed every single person that she would have saved for the rest of her life. That’s their blood on your hands, too. That’s their families that you destroyed.”

Lena thinks she might throw up. She doesn’t remember how to breathe properly. It sits ragged in her throat, choking her.

Alex isn’t done.

“God, and I hope every second of your life is consumed with the knowledge that you killed the only thing that could ever have made you genuinely happy. Because do you honestly believe that anyone else will ever be capable of loving you the way she was? With your family? With the shit that you’ve done? Kara was willing to look past that. She did every day. She would have forgiven you for this, had she survived. She would have fought for you back. And she can’t do that anymore. Because of you.”

Lena’s drowning. Every word that comes out of Alex’s mouth is like another needle in her skin, lining her flesh and her throat and her the inside of her organs and she can’t even tune them out or deny them because every word she says is true. Kara was the only person who believed she was good, unconditionally.

“It was wrong,” says Alex, dangerously quiet, back outside the cell now. “It was wrong of Kara not to tell you she was Supergirl earlier. I’ll be the first to admit that. But she was willing to put in the work to fix it. She would have done everything in her power to fix it, and you weren’t even willing to try. You self-destruct, Lena, and that’s one hundred percent on you.”

God, she’s so stupid. How was she ever this stupid? How did she get here? How did she let this happen? She might still be crying—her eyes are certainly still blurred, but her skin is too numb to feel the tears. She doesn’t even feel like her body belongs to her anymore.

“Don’t just sit there,” Alex says. “Say something. Just… fucking say something!”

“What do you want me to say?” Lena says, and it’s like her voice is coming from someone else. “That you’re right? You are. Of course you are, you’re right about all of it. This is my fault, all of this is my fault, and there’s nothing—nothing I can do.”

“I changed my mind,” says Alex. She slides down the wall beside Lena’s cell, digs her hands into her hair again, curling in on herself. “I don’t want to hear your voice.”

Lena closes her eyes. The moment the cannons went off starts to play again behind her eyelids on repeat. Flash of green, sickly green. Tiny figure, blonde hair, flopping like a ragdoll, dropping like a stone. She glowed, when the cannons hit her. Like every single one of her veins and arteries and capillaries lit up with Kryptonite, all at once. Like a broken glowstick. She glowed, suspended a thousand feet in the air, her arms splayed like she was taking it all in willingly. It plays again and again behind Lena’s eyes, and she doesn’t feel like she has the right to stop watching. It’s her prison to endure.

Alex voice breaks through, soft and awful and crackling. “It’s sick. It’s really sick, but I wish you were happy about it. I wish you were happy with yourself so I could hate you more. But you’re so… pathetic. You’re so fucking pathetic, how can you hate someone who’s so pathetic? Who am I supposed to hate when you’re like this? It’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry,” Lena says, and it’s not even the tiniest dent in the way she feels.

“I know. That’s the problem. I wish you weren’t. It would be easier if you weren’t.”

Lena stays silent. It’s despicable, but she doesn’t want Alex to leave. She doesn’t want to be alone. She wants… god, all she wants is for Kara to be here. She wants Kara’s arms around her, warm and comforting, steady and real. She wants to bury her face in the crook of Kara’s neck, breathe in her shampoo, cry herself to sleep on her shoulder. She wants Kara��s lips on the top of her forehead, brushing soft, whispering reassurances into her skin.

She wants, and she’ll never have, never again.

And it’s her fault.

It hits her suddenly, in a way it somehow hasn’t before, and the pain in her stomach is so intense that she has to wrap her arms tight around her middle to stop herself from falling apart, has to fold forward as she gasps out sobs, loud and harsh. She’s not sure it’ll ever stop. Behind her eyes, Kara falls, she keeps falling, she hasn’t stopped.

“I don’t how to do this if I can’t hate you,” Alex says, over Lena’s sobs, and Lena can hear in her voice that she’s crying too, even if her vision is too obscured to see it. “I can’t do this if I don’t have anger to lean on. I just want to hate you. I just want to hate you.”

Please hate me, Lena wants to say. She’s crying too hard to speak, it’s hurting the inside of her throat, like each sob is ripping something. Hate me all you want. You’ll never be able to hate me as much as I hate myself.

She doesn’t need to say it. Alex knows.

She must cross some line into hysteria, because she wakes up with the heavy feeling that she’s been under sedation for a long time. She’s in the same cell, lying on her back on the hard bed and staring up at the ceiling. Her chest is hollow; someone’s scooped out everything from inside her ribs.

It feels like the end of time.

“Are you awake?” asks Alex’s voice, scratchy. She’s sitting outside Lena’s cell, arms wrapped around her knees. It looks like she slept there.

“Yes,” says Lena. If this is what awake is.

Alex looks away. She drums an uneven pattern on floor with her fingertips. Her hair is sticking up at the back.

“Why are you still here?” croaks Lena. “It’s because of me that your sister is dead.”

“I know,” says Alex. “I wish I could kill you for it.”

“Why don’t you?”

Alex looks over, and she’s aged about forty years overnight. “You’re the only person who loved her as much as I did.”

Lena laughs, humourless, at the ceiling, because if that just isn’t the most fucked up thing she’s ever heard in her life. “Well, fuck me.”

At some point, Alex is going to have to get up and leave. She’ll be able to seek solace in her other friends, in the other people who love Kara. And Lena will be moved somewhere more permanent. She’ll let them take her. She won’t struggle. She hopes there’s no trial, but if there is, she’ll plead guilty.

For now, they both just stare at the ceiling, at exposed dirty grey pipes, as the DEO rumbles around them.

Somewhere far away, Kara lies in the snow, crumpled and green and more peaceful than they’ll ever be again.

[seoloquent]

project: dance, dance, revolution

summary - you hate that ai robots are beginning to take over the entertainment industry, but you have no choice than to help them. but what if it all didn't turn out to be what you thought it was?

pairing - johnny and fem!reader

genre - strangers-to-lovers!au, robot!au, comedy, fluff

word count - 10.101

warnings - cw! food, there might be some grammatical errors... i'm depending on grammarly on this one

author's note - this is for @pastelsicheng's ai project #14320 collab! this was honestly such a challenge for me since i have been in a writing slump for over two years i believe, but i'm glad it gave me the push i need. i am still super rusty, but i think the dialogue is cute, so i'm happy with it! thank you so much emmy for sharing your great idea with everyone, and i hope you all like it!

************************************************************************

Johnny AI AU - seoloquent

Kun was terrified.

Despite experiencing your various emotions throughout the five years of being your manager, he has never seen you this angry before. But, honestly speaking, he couldn’t blame you. He’d be just as mad if he found out his boss went behind his back and signed a contract with a company he hated. As much as he could sympathize with you though, Kun just couldn’t get himself to understand why you were so upset about working with LSM Incorporated. If he were in your shoes, he’d be doing backflips off the wall! The amount of exposure, and revenue you are potentially going to be receiving… Kun just does not understand what the problem is.

Although your strides were long and strong, Kun was able to keep up with you while making sure he kept his distance, as if a dark cloud followed behind you. As cautious as he was to not have you blow up at him, he still tried to convince you to not make a scene within the conference room by his desperate protests; in which you kindly ignored. Every single word that left his mouth went through one ear and straight out the other as you paid him no mind. You were in a tunnel vision; the only person you wanted to talk to right now was your boss.

Pushing the door open with much force (that Kun had to catch before it slammed onto the wall behind it), you caught the attention of the CEO of your company, as well as Lee Soo Man of LSM Inc. They flashed pleasant smiles your way, completely oblivious of your angry state.

“Y/N, just the person we wanted to se-”

“Are you serious?!” You slammed the contract papers down on the table, your eyes wide and fierce as they stared into your boss’s eyes.

Your emotions were still fresh from when you first received the signed contract papers from Kun about an hour prior. The feelings of betrayal and violation lingered within you, and the uneasiness it caused made you sick. How could someone lack so much human decency that they justified going behind their employee’s back, an employee that has their trust in them at that, and force them into labor; which they have already voiced that they did not want to do? It baffled you, and you were hurt, as you believed that you and your CEO had a great business relationship. But he took that open communication for granted and took advantage of you.

After realizing that you stormed in with anger rather than excitement, he pursed his lips and looked down at the papers, chuckling to himself. “Oh. So you’re still opposed to the idea.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Of course I am!” Your voice rose as your eyes grew bigger. “You never talked to me about it again after the first time; what made you think that I changed my mind?”

“Y/N, I have to get you to notice that you are not the only one signed to this company. This will not only be good exposure for you, but for us as well.” He justified. He kept his voice calm, not only to calm you down but also to keep a professional demeanor in front of his newly established business partner.

“Oh, so you’re doing this for yourself?”

“Of course not! This is for the benefit of not only you, not only me, but for the company as a whole.” Your CEO reasoned. Before you could respond, he cleared his throat and turned to Lee Soo Man. “I’m sorry, but will you excuse us for a moment? I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation in front of you as our partner.”

Normally, you would be embarrassed that you presented this side of yourself in front of a potential partner, but embarrassed in front of Lee Soo Man? You care more about a monkey’s opinion about yourself more than his opinion. Besides, it doesn’t seem like he’s phased by your reaction at all. Strangely enough, when you turned toward the founder of LSM Inc., you realized that his arrogant smile had never left his face since the moment you stormed into the conference room. It gave you chills. He seems so artificial that you wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to be a robot himself.

After Lee Soo Man gave his, “No problem,” your boss stood up from his seat and escorted you both outside the conference room. The moment the door closed, your boss’s true emotion started to show. His eyes grew wide and his fingers grabbed onto his freshly trimmed strands as he breathed out a heavy breath of frustration. Equally as frustrated, if not more, you crossed your arms and made sure your gaze was unwavering; something you needed to learn after being manipulated many times from past experiences with people who work within the entertainment industry. You stepped your metaphoric foot down. Even if your boss had signed a contract without your acknowledgment, you were not going to do the job. That’s not your signature on the papers.

“Are you crazy Y/N?!” He yelled in a hushed tone, careful to not have anyone overhear your conversation. “How could you act like that in front of him?”

“Do I not have a right to be angry? You sold me away to a robot company Jack, a robot company!” You slapped the back of your hand on your other palm, now physically unable to withhold your emotions.

“I didn’t sell you away, you’re getting paid to do this job.” He spat. Now self-aware of how uncivil and unprofessional he was being, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to ease his nerves. You are going to get nowhere if you bickered like this, and if you keep it up, he knows he is going to say something he regrets.

Now keeping his tone soft, he revealed, “I chose you because you’re the best for this job.”

“Aren’t there other artists under this label who could do this? I’m sure they’re more willing to work with LSM than I am.” You matched his tone, hoping that this time you could get through to him.

“Those other artists can’t produce the same product as you can.” Jack shook his head disapprovingly. “Listen Y/N, I don’t want to waste any more of Mr. Lee’s time, so I’m going to make this short. I apologize in advance if you find any offense in this, but business is business.” You stared intently into his eyes, in hopes to understand where he was going with his next sentence, but his expression could not be read.

“If you can’t do this job, then I’m afraid that I’ll have to drop you from this label.”

You never knew what people meant by having their hearts drop down to their stomachs until now. You felt as if the wind was knocked out of you, your breath short and shaky and your knees weak. All these years… all this work you put in to make a name not only for yourself but for this company… it baffled you that all that effort could be thrown away so easily, just because of some AI company.

As much as you wanted to keep standing up for yourself and your role in the company, you knew there was no use. Your boss didn’t seem to give you a choice either, seeing that he walked back into the conference room shortly after his bombshell. The only thing you could find yourself doing is laughing bitterly to yourself while shaking your head. What in the world are you going to do now?

***

Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to go to a bar when you’re in a bad mood. The constant noise of chatter and the clinking of glasses did not soothe your nerves one bit. Rather, it made you even more annoyed, and on the brink of yelling out at everyone to just be quiet. Instead of making a fool of yourself in public though, you sat with your head under your arms, forehead resting on the cool surface of the bar. Kun, your designated moral support, sat next to you, tapping his glass of whiskey as he thought of what to say to you.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

That simple yet oh so effective sentence had you throwing your head back and releasing a loud groan. Your reaction had your manager shrugging, his face reading, ‘What did I do?’ You rested your cheeks on the palms of your hands as you thought: ‘What can I do?’

Gazing off into a space of nothing, you replied: “I dunno.” You shook your head, your hands still on either side of your face as you deadpanned. “I have no idea what I’m gonna do.” After a moment, something clicked in your head, and you set your arms down and turned to Kun. “Do you want to bail on them and start a company with me?”

He snorted at the inquiry. “You know we can’t do that! At least not right now. It’s way too last minute.”

You looked down at your arms with a sad expression and sighed. “You’re right.” Not only would it be an impulsive decision, but you had no motivation in you to own a whole entertainment company. “What am I gonna do?!” You cried out, your hands covering your face to hide your shame.

“Hey, hey, hey! Stop the whining!” Kun took your hands away from your face, revealing the pout on your face. “Everything is going to be fine! I’m sure of it.”

Kun, a big pep-talk kind of man, was always ready to reassure you when you were in doubt. And boy was he good at it. You still remember when you were growing anxious before your first big concert at an arena. The staff ran around the whole place frantically trying to find where you ran off to. Thankfully, your trustee manager was able to find your hiding spot, which was beside a vending machine in an empty hallway. His comforting words found a way to ease your speedy heart rate, and clear up your clogged mind. After that day, you knew you could always go to him when you were feeling down or unsure of yourself. He’s a friend you could always lean on.

“How are you so sure?” You asked, your voice so small that he almost missed the question.

“Think about it,” he set his glass to the side and folded his hands together, “this contract is only valid for six months. It’s not like you’re going to be working there forever.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I know that; but still! I don’t want to do it at all!”

“You never know what will happen until you try though! You might end up liking it.” He nudged your elbow as he flashed a convincing smile.

“Me? Liking it?” You scoffed. “Kun, do you even know me?”

He pursed his lips and sighed. This situation was foreign to him since he always knew what to say. But now, it seemed like everything he was saying was making the situation worse. He wanted nothing more than for you to feel comfortable, but that mission is basically impossible knowing how much you oppose the AI industry. But still, Kun is a persistent man. He wasn’t going to back down just yet.

Finally, something clicked.

“Actually, your idea doesn’t sound half bad.” You cocked a curious eyebrow, surprised that he brought up something you spurted out carelessly. “Think about it: you’re still your own person. Even though you’re technically bound by a contract doesn’t mean that you can’t make a decision on your own. He did give you the choice to leave.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “So you’re saying that I should just leave the company?”

He shook his head. “No. What I’m doing is offering a deal. I want you to try to work with LSM for at least three months. If you try it, you might like it! If not, I will quit with you, and we can try to start a company on our own; which I know we both don’t want. But hey, that might be fun too.”

You thought about the proposal for a moment. It wasn’t too much of a bad idea. It was actually quite reasonable. Yeah, you aren’t looking forward to being surrounded by robots and their arrogant creators, but you guess that it’s worth a try. Just for the experience at least.

“I think we have a deal.” You held your hand out.

He took your hand in his and gave it a firm shake.

“Pleasure doing business with you, partner.”

***

You shivered upon entering the entertainment wing of LSM Inc. You were told that the lab would be a bit chilly, which is why you brought a jacket with you, but the cool air still found a way to nip at your skin through the material. You have to say, the lab was not what you expected it to be. Rather than it being some cold, plain science lab, it was made out to be much more casual. Your eyes settled on what looked like a lounge area for the employees, and you watched carefully as they conversed with one another with soft smiles on their faces. Scanning the place even further, you came across capsule areas, in which you assume where the AI robots stayed. As cool as the dome building seemed, you still couldn’t shake off the grudge you had against the company.

“Oh, you’re here!” A man holding a clipboard exclaimed. He ran over to you and Kun, flashing a bright smile. “Mr. Lee told me that we were to be expecting you both. I was hoping to greet you at the main lobby entrance, but I got caught up in another situation, so I apologize. My name is Kim Doyoung, I’ll be your guide for the day.” He politely held his hand out, and you shook it while replying with a small, “Hello.”

“We’re pleased to have you here with us Ms. Y/N. Please, follow me.” He motioned both of you to follow him. “I must say, I’m a huge fan of your music. I’m really happy that you decided to work with us for the next comeback.”

“Oh. Don’t mention it.” You shook your head while smiling slightly.

As Doyoung lead you to wherever he was leading you, he pointed out different areas to help you grow familiar with the lab. You learned that they have many recording and dance studios like regular companies do. You couldn’t help but wonder why, since they could just be programmed to sing the songs, but you didn’t bother to ask.

Finally, Doyoung stopped at a station, but his bright expression was replaced by a puzzled one. He looked around as if he were looking for someone. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but stare at what stood before you. The tall human-like… thing, stared right back at you with a neutral expression. It gave you chills how real he seemed; like he could walk past you on the street and you wouldn’t bat an eye. Despite how anxious it made you feel, your curiosity outweighed that emotion, and you inched closer to get a better look.

Your tour guide caught you eyeing the bot, and that smile found its way back onto his face. He heard that you might be a bit opposed to working with the AI’s, so he was glad to find you expressing some sort of interest in their prized possession.

“He’s so human-” As if in a trance, you reached out a hand to touch the robot, but it suddenly stepped back just before you got to it.

“I’m sorry, but physical touch is not allowed unless permitted.” The robot announced before flashing a commercial smile.

Doyoung’s chuckled beside you. “For the safety of our bots, we have prohibited anyone from touching them.” He leaned in to add, “Too many fans at fansigns got touchy-feely.” He shook his head disapprovingly.

“Eager to get a feel of my bot already?” You heard a voice from behind you.

When you turned around, you felt as though you got whiplash. The man standing behind you looked identical to the robot standing before you. The only difference was that the robot had blonde short hair and was styled in fancy clothing whilst the man had long brown hair and didn’t seem to care much about what he had on. He had his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, a sly smirk plastered on his face.

“You’re late.” Doyoung deadpanned.

“I’m not late, I was taking a nap in the Pod, and nobody cared enough to wake me up!” The mystery man shrugged.

Finally, you snapped back into reality, but you still had to verify that what you were seeing was real. When you finally accepted what was going on, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“How cute.” You snickered to yourself.

A puzzled expression masked the mystery man’s face. “What’s cute?”

“What is this? The Man and the Muppet?” Your comment had Kun nudging your arm and shooting you a warning look to which you responded with an apologetic gaze.

Not giving the mystery man any time to respond (merely because he does not have the patience), Doyoung spoke up. “This is Suh Youngho, he’s the head AI Developer of our department. He’s the creator of #S127.” Youngho put his hands behind his back and bowed as his greeting.

“I’m guessing his name is Youngho as well?” You pointed to the robot, still standing expressionless.

“He wishes, but no, we call him Johnny!” Youngho swung an arm over his identical twin of a robot, smiling brightly. “After a long and hard fight for it, he will be releasing his first solo album this year.” He wiped a fake tear from under his eye. “Johnny here is my firstborn, so this is going to be really special.”

“And you’re going to help us make it very special!” Doyoung cheered.

“Actually, speaking of that, what exactly am I supposed to be doing? Wouldn’t it just be easier for me to give you guys a demo and you program him to sing it or something?” You asked.

Doyoung was quick to answer. “That would defeat the purpose of AI robots actually! The thing is, they’re supposed to learn to adapt to certain environments, like we do! So they learn how to sing songs and how to dance complex choreography just like we do.”

This time, Kun was the one to ask a question. “Aren’t you guys just putting more work upon yourself?”

“Yes, and no,” Youngho started, “It’s like a domino effect. The more work we give our bots means more research that needs to be done. The more research that is done, means there’s more data we get. The more data we get means a more refined bot, and then it loops.” Kun opened his mouth in an ‘ah’ shape and nodded his head after the explanation. “Hopefully we can get this bad boy to the point where we don’t have to do any more research and he can be a successful artist on his own.”

Even though this was all very interesting, you still couldn’t help but still be opposed to the thought of helping a robot making it in the entertainment industry. You caught a glimpse of the future as you fell into a daydream: AI’s getting a full sweep in wins at big music award shows, discrediting those who actually put their heart and soul into their work. Robots don’t have a heart, nor do they have a soul. Even if they do seem to “work hard,” they will never be on the same level as a human artist. It just won’t be fair, but what even is fair these days?

“So, to answer your question, we need Johnny to learn what it’s like to be a true singer-slash-songwriter. And to achieve that, he’ll be staying with you for the duration of the six months before his solo debut.” Doyoung’s words snapped you out of your daydream and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

“Oh, so this is going to be like ‘Take your robot to work day’ or something? But just for six months instead?” You questioned.

Doyoung looked up as he thought, nodding and shrugging seconds afterward. “Well, yes, but we were hoping that Johnny could get the full package. We planned for him to stay with you 24/7 so that he could really get a feel of your creative process.”

You did a double-take, eyes wide and mouth agape showcasing your shock.

“E-Excuse me? You mean to say that he will be… living with me?” You spoke low and slow, scared of the obvious answer.

You didn’t see anything about this in the contract papers; not that you read it anyway since you weren’t the one who signed them; but still! You could feel your heart race as you thought of him living in your apartment, those brown soulless eyes studying every move you made. The vision made you shudder.

“Affirmative.” Youngho nodded firmly.

Your heart wanted to burst out of your chest. “I’m sorry, but can you guys excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with my manager in private.” You said just before taking Kun’s hand and dragging him somewhere where the two scientists wouldn’t be able to hear your conversation.

“I’m living with the robot?!” You whisper yelled, careful to not have anyone nearby hear your anguish.

“In my defense, I had no idea about this.” Kun shook his head with his hands up.

You paced back and forth as you panicked. You lifted your hands, but not knowing what to do with them, you just clenched them into a fist. It seemed like your life was spiraling out of your control. Nothing is going your way, and it is driving you insane. You need to get your life back in order fast. If not, who knows what will happen?

“I swear, if he wasn’t the one paying me, I would kill Jack right now.” You grumbled.

“Hey, it’s not like Johnny is a real guy. I doubt he would try to do anything to hurt you.” Kun tried his best to reassure you, but it was not doing much to help.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know what those guys are capable of!” You pointed toward Doyoung and Youngho. “That Doyoung guy is nice, but I don’t know if I can trust him. And Youngho seems like he’s gonna be a handful.” You stared at the said man as he and Doyoung bickered, probably about him being late again.

Kun turned his head to see the two men bickering, and the only thing he could do was chuckle. “I think they should be the least of your worries.” His comment made you sigh deeply. “You’ll be fine, I promise you!” He put his hands on your arms to steady you, but you avoided his gaze as you stared down at your feet with a pout on your face. “You know I’m always on speed dial if you need me.”

You nodded your head, still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey,” his call made your eyes meet his. “If all goes wrong, we can always dump a bucket of water over ‘em.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “Yeah, and then we’ll get sued and possibly go to jail.”

Kun smacked his lips and said, “Eh, I’m sure they’ll be able to fix the guy. A little water can’t do that much damage.” He stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. After a small moment of silence, he kicked your shoe gently. “So what do you say? You’re still gonna do it, or no?”

A groan erupted from your chest, and you brought your hands down your face out of frustration. You really don’t want to do this, but a deal is a deal.

“Three months. I’m giving three months.”

“That’s my girl!”

***

You found yourself pacing around your apartment in the early morning. It has been about a week since you first spoke with LSM Inc. From this day forward for the next six months (or three months you hoped), Johnny would be shadowing you at all times. You were a nervous wreck since you didn’t know what to expect from living with a robot. What if he suddenly malfunctioned and they blamed it on you? You can’t handle this type of responsibility. Or what if he malfunctioned and started acting violently toward you?

“Snap out of it!” You whisper yelled at yourself, hitting your temple with your knuckles. You always tend to scare yourself when you’re nervous. Everyone you have spoken to about this matter has told you that you had nothing to worry about, so you made it your goal to not worry. But why is it so hard?

DING!

You swore your heart jumped out of your chest when your doorbell suddenly sounded throughout your home. As much as you wanted your heart rate to calm down, it only began to race faster the closer you got to your door. When your hand touched the gold knob, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, then you finally opened the door.

Two identical men stood before you, flashing the same bright smile.

“Good morning to you!” Youngho greeted you cheerfully, to which you replied with a dazed “Morning,” before allowing them inside.

You eyed the two men as they entered your living room, confused as to why they were the only ones here. “Where is Mr. Kim?”

Youngho cocked an eyebrow before turning around to face you. “Who?”

“Your coworker. Doyoung, I believe his name is?” You answered.

“Oh!” He let out a hearty laugh. “You don’t have to call him that, it makes him sound old. And I’m older than him, so that kind of hurts my feelings.” He joked, but the only thing you could find yourself doing was nodding your head and looking away.

Sensing your discomfort, he cleared his throat before answering your question. “He’s busy back at the lab. I’m here to make sure John is all set before I leave him in your care.” You winced at his words. It only added to the overwhelming weight on your shoulders.

“Why do you ask? Did you grow fond of him already?” He slung his backpack from around his shoulder onto the floor. You peeked inside when he zipped it open, finding wires bunched inside.

“Uh, no, I wouldn’t say that.” You let out a nervous laugh. “I just find it a bit overwhelming with only you two here.”

A smirk grew on his face. “So, you’re overwhelmed by my great looks huh?” He flipped his hair and shrugged as if it was inevitable to be starstruck by him.

“I look exactly like you,” Johnny spoke for the first time since entering your home.

You had to hold back a laugh at the sudden comment, and Youngho’s reaction didn’t make it any easier.

“So? You’re inspired by me, so therefore I take the credit of our looks!” He stuck his nose up in Johnny’s face. When the scientist turned back toward you, he realized you were holding back a laugh as your pursed your lips and looked away. “What? You find this funny?”

You put your hand up and shook your head. “No, no.”

Youngho was happy to find you in a better mood than when you first met. Sure, you’re still on the shy side, but at least you’re laughing instead of frowning like the first time. He heard that you weren’t exactly on board with working with LSM, so he made it his goal to have this be an enjoyable experience for you. He hopes that one day your negative opinions about AI’s would change. They’re as special to him as music is to you.

“I need to set up Johnny’s things. Is it okay if you tell me where he’s allowed to sleep?” Youngho asked.

You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled expression finding its way on your face. “He sleeps?”

“Yeah!” Youngho nodded simply. “It’s like setting your computer on sleep mode. Machines need rest as much as we do. Johnny here is a hardworking man, he deserves to sleep.”

You supposed he was right. He might break easier if his gears were running constantly. Plus, he was made to function as a human, but you didn’t know that it was to this extent. To say the least, you were impressed at the attention to detail.

You motioned the two to your guest bedroom, and immediately Youngho got to work. Johnny stood next to you as the both of you spectated Youngho’s work, but you were shortly distracted by the robot.

You peered up at the tall machine with a curious gaze, and he turned to you with a kind smile.

“So, I’m not sure if this is an inappropriate question or not, but I’m curious.” Johnny nodded for you to go on. “Should I, like… talk to you like Siri? Or can I talk to you like a normal person?”

You were startled to hear Youngho’s loud snort in the corner of the room, but instead of him being the one to answer, Johnny did.

“You can talk to me like a normal person, don’t worry.” Johnny shook his head. “If it makes you comfortable, you can view me as a human if you’d like. I’m not that much different than you actually. We’re just wired differently.”

“Hey,” Youngho’s stern voice caught both of your attention. “Be proud of who you are, whether you are a human or robot. We’ve been through this John.”

Johnny nodded. “Right, right. My apologies.”

Youngho hated it when Johnny tried to tell others to view him as a human. Not because he believed that Johnny was trying to fool people, but because being a robot is his identity, and he should be proud of that. Sure, it’s not likely that Johnny could feel the feeling of pride, but Youngho could tell that Johnny was insecure. It worried him, but he didn’t want to tap into his database to change anything since he wants Johnny to be as authentic as possible. So for now, Youngho is keeping track of Johnny’s growth as an AI person.

Soon, Youngho was finished with setting up Johnny’s station. In the corner of the guestroom stood a white podium with a screen built in the middle of it. He let out a deep breath of satisfaction as he stepped back and dusted his hands off.

Before you could ask what it was, Youngho was already answering your unspoken question. “This is Johnny’s Communication Center. Every night he’ll have to transfer data from his system so that we’ll know what he’s been up to and see if he’s made any improvements. That’s if he’s not with me at the lab.” Suddenly, his face grew serious. “For legal reasons, I have to let you know that this station is strictly off-limits. There’s confidential information in here that belongs to LSM Inc.”

Even though you were curious, the last thing you wanted to do was get involved with the law, so you took note of his warning. Hopefully, it isn’t something regarding the invasion of privacy.

You shook your head before you could scare yourself even further. Positive thoughts. Think positive thoughts.

“Alright, on that note, I think my work here is done!” Youngho announced. “Can I talk with you in private?” He asked suddenly, pointing a finger at you.

“Me?” You had to double-check whether he was really talking to you or not. He chuckled as he nodded his head, confirming your wonders. “Oh, okay.”

You followed the man out of the room, leaving Johnny to check out the place he’ll be living in for the next few months.

After the two of you reached your living room, Youngho began to speak. “Hey, so, I really want to thank you for working with us on this project. I heard that you’re not the biggest fan of AI’s, so I was surprised to hear you signed the contract.”

You held back from rolling your eyes as the memories of your boss came up. “It’s not like I really had a choice.” You smiled softly and shook your head.

He tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

You tensed up when you realized what you just said. As much as you did not want to do this job, you made it your goal to remain as professional as possible for the sake of your reputation. After working in the entertainment industry for some years, you learned to keep your personal feelings apart from your job. If- no, when you do end up quitting the job after three months, at least LSM won’t be able to say anything negative about you.

Refraining from explaining yourself, you shook your head once more. “Nevermind what I said. Johnny will be safe in my care!”

Youngho pouted, his eyes scanning your face. He wanted you to elaborate, but he had no time to talk further. He needed to get back to the lab.

“Well, I hope so. Call me if you need anything. I need to get going.”

Nodding, you waved goodbye to him before seeing him off. Your feet ended up taking you back to your guest bedroom, where you found Johnny sitting at the end of the bed, staring at the wall in front of him. You caught his attention after you cleared your throat, and instead of staring at you with that lifeless gaze, he smiled brightly.

You mustered up the courage to walk up to him, still stopping some feet away though. Crossing your arms, you tried to think of what to say. While you thought, he examined your face, trying his best to read your expression so he to could come up with something to talk about. The silence was awkward for you, but Johnny never sensed the discomfort. He was happy to be here with you. You are the gold coin on his road to success, so he decided to cherish you.

“So… it’s quite early and I usually don’t head to the studio until the evening. Is there anything you wanted to do?” You asked.

“There isn’t anything I can think of…” he shrugged his shoulders.

Suddenly, your stomach grumbled and your hand covered it as a reflex. You were so nervous this morning that you didn’t have much of an appetite, but hunger was catching up to you now.

“I didn’t have breakfast yet.” You laughed nervously. “Are you… able to eat anything?” You felt weird asking such a question since he’s a robot after all, but who knows what he can and cannot do? Technology is so advanced these days. Besides, isn’t he made to live like a human anyway?

In all truthfulness though, Johnny isn’t allowed to eat-- sometimes. In special cases, he can nibble on a snack, but eating a full course meal was a no-go. But Johnny was aware of your discomfort of being with him, and he was determined to make you feel the opposite. As long as he doesn’t clog his gears, taking the risk should be okay.

“I know of this breakfast house Youngho likes to go to every now and then. Do you want to go there?”

Your face lit up at the suggestion. You were more excited at the thought of being around others rather than eating. Being in the house alone with Johnny was really starting to suffocate you, and you needed out immediately. Maybe some fresh air and being surrounded by humans will make you feel somewhat better.

The two of you were quick to leave the apartment after you accepted the offer. Johnny led the way to the restaurant, and on your way, he let you know that it was not far from your home. Come to find out, it was within walking distance. You wondered how you never noticed the humble breakfast house, but after thinking about it for a while, you realized that you are always on the go. Ever since you moved to your apartment, you never took the time to stop and get to know your surroundings.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny’s question snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh… nothing, just thinking.” Finally, you noticed that you were standing in front of the restaurant. “Let’s head inside.”

Surprisingly, Johnny was easy to talk to. Even though he had somewhat awkward responses to your questions, it was never boring or dry. You got to know about his life in the lab, and even how Youngho decided to grow his hair out because people mistook him for Johnny so many times. His story was so interesting, and it kept you on your toes, itching to hear more. It was beyond what you could ever imagine.

“So what is your goal?” You suddenly asked.

He tilted his head in curiosity. “Can you elaborate for me please?”

“You know, like what’s your goal as a singer? Or even just as a living being?”

He sat back in his seat as he pondered on the simple, yet deep question. It’s something he’s never had time to think about. Actually, it’s something he never considered thinking about. Ever since he was first powered up, he has always been working. But working towards what, is the question he began to ask himself.

“I… honestly don’t know.” He shook his head after moments of thinking.

“Really?” Your eyes grew wide at his response. “If that’s the case, then why do you expect to learn how to write music? You need to have some desire or passion to do so.”

He crossed his arm over his chest and rested his chin on his other hand. “I guess you’re right… But how do I find out what my goal is?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “What are you living for? What’s your purpose? You have to ask yourself these types of questions.”

It worried Johnny that he didn’t have a passion despite calling himself a music artist. But he knew he needed to figure it out fast because he really does want to be successful in this field. But is there anything really to work for being the person he is?

***

The next day, you were back at the lab for Johnny’s first checkup. The first night at the studio was not a success, which wasn’t surprising considering that he had nothing to write about. This was exactly what you were afraid of. No matter how busy he might be, he hasn’t gotten the real human experience, so what really can he write about? Hard drives and wires?

“Hey Babysitter!” Youngho greeted you cheerfully after spotting you and Johnny some feet away.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Babysitter?”

“Yeah, you are taking care of my kid after all.” He laughed, ruffling Johnny’s hair, to which Johnny slapped his hand away. “How was the first day?”

You sighed deeply, thinking about yesterday’s events. “It went okay, but we made no progress in the studio.”

Youngho smacked his lips. “Well, that’s alright. We still have six months ahead of us. There’s still time left.”

“That’s true.” You nodded your head. “But on the bright side, Johnny treated me to the best breakfast I had in a while! So brownie points for that.”

Your words came out too fast for Johnny to stop you. He froze, his hand slapping his mouth in shock. He is dead meat.

“He didn’t eat with you, did he?” Youngho blinked at you. Sensing the tension in the air, you nodded slowly, but kept your mouth shut. “Oh my-” Youngho stepped back as if he was about to faint.

He clenched his fist against his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. You felt like you did something wrong, but you just couldn’t figure out what. You were sure Johnny would tell you if you did.

“Johnny, just head to the back, okay?” Youngho said, his eyes still closed.

“Yes sir.” Johnny rushed away without another word.

“Did I do something wrong...?” You asked shyly.

“No you didn’t, don’t worry.” Youngho sighed. “He knows better. If he eats too much he could clog his gears. But mostly, I just hate cleaning him out, it’s so tedious!” He groaned at the thought of all the clumps of food he has to take out.

“Oh my gosh! I wouldn’t have let him if I have known!” You exclaimed.

Youngho shook his head. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. He seems to be functioning well, so he should be fine.”

You were worried at the thought of Johnny breaking while under your supervision. Imagine getting sued by a company that handles AI’s? Your life would be over! You can’t let that happen, you won’t allow it to happen.

“Is there any way for me to know if he’s okay or not? Like does he feel pain or no?” You asked. You needed to know just in case you had to rush back to the lab if anything happens. You’re not going to be the blame for anything.

“Yes, and no.” Youngho went on to explain. “He can feel you if you tap him on the shoulder, but if you punch him, it’ll still feel like a mere tap. But the only time he does feel pain is when something in his system malfunctions.” You tilted your head, still not catching on. He found your expression cute, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. “Just think about it: when you’re using your phone, it can feel your taps as you scroll. But if you drop it on the ground, you don’t hear it screaming out in pain.”

“Ah, I think I get it now!” You nodded your head fervently.

“Right! But we did program him to feel some type of pain just so we will know if something wrong is happening to the important parts.”

“That makes a lot of sense… Man, you guys really have it all laid out huh?” You couldn’t help but be impressed at the amount of thought that went into creating Johnny.

“Yeah, well, it’s nothing much.” Johnny shoved his hands in his pockets as he shrugged nonchalantly. As laid back as he was acting, nothing could hide the blush that crept onto his face. He’s a sucker for people acknowledging his work.

“Well, as much as I want to argue with you about that, I have to get to my schedule! Kun is waiting for me outside and I can’t keep him waiting. I’ll be back soon!” You waved as you began to walk away.

Youngho waved back to you as he watched you exit the lab. He sighed to himself, not knowing what he was going to do with Johnny. But knowing that it is best to get the job done now rather than later, Youngho dragged his feet to the operation room where Johnny would be waiting.

Johnny tensed up once Youngho entered the room, and he avoided eye contact in hopes he wouldn’t blow up at him. Thankfully, Youngho didn’t have the energy to yell.

“Why did you do that?” The scientist asked simply.

“She was uncomfortable and hungry, so it was the only thing I could think of.” Johnny justified his past actions, but Youngho wasn’t having any of it.

“Let’s just get this over with, and then we’ll check your data.” Youngho sighed as he started to prep for the cleanup.

“Wait, wait! I have a question.” Johnny stopped him. “Do you have a goal?”

Youngho was taken aback by the sudden question. “Yes… I think so? I guess it depends on what the goal is for.” He wasn’t very sure if he had a set goal, but he did know that he is satisfied where he is right at this moment. The only thing he is concerned about is making sure #S127 remains on the rise.

“Do you think… I’m able to have a goal?”

“You can have the goal of winning a Grammy!” Youngho suggested.

Johnny scoffed. “Well, yeah, but I’m talking about for myself. Am I able to find a goal or a passion at least for myself?”

Youngho blinked at his robot. He was at a loss for words. It seems like a simple yes or no question, but there are levels to it. The right answer to this question was up in the air somewhere, and Youngho was finding a hard time finding it. What in the world did you do to his bot?

“I’m sure you can if you put your mind to it,” Youngho answered. He grabbed his phone and began texting you, suggesting that the two of you grab coffee when you get back to the lab. He needed to talk to you to figure out the meaning behind Johnny’s words.

Some hours later, you were at a Starbucks near the lab sitting across from Youngho. You were nervous you did something bad after all, but you couldn’t get yourself to figure out what you’ve done. But thankfully, Johnny was the first to speak.

“So, Johnny asked me a question that kind of shocked me. I’m supposing you asked him the same question yesterday.” He began.

“What question are you talking about?” You asked.

“If he has a goal. He’s been thinking about it really hard.”

You felt as if a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. You thought of something way worse, even though you talked to Johnny a handful of times yesterday, and the conversations the two of you had were never bad or questionable. Your nervousness always found a way to get to you still.

“Well yeah! He needs to have a passion in order to be a real artist. And to have a passion, he needs to have a goal.” You nodded.

“Are you sure he can have a passion? He’s a robot.”

You were surprised at his response. “Aren’t you the one who created him? I thought you would know this! Writing songs isn’t just jotting down words on a piece of paper you know. It’s much more to it than that.”

Youngho sighed. You’re right, and it bothered him. It’s not you that he’s bothered by, but the fact that he really doesn’t have everything figured out. He’s so used to being a genius and having questions answered before people could even ask them, but the fact that he doesn’t have an answer prepared for something as simple as this messed with his head. How did he expect to make a successful idol group if his idols can’t even write music on their own?

“I could always just give you a song to use.” You suggested.

“No, I don’t want that,” Youngho answered quickly. “We do that every comeback. We need to actually make some improvements.”

You took a sip of your coffee as you watched Youngho try to figure out what to do. You knew Johnny writing his own song was too good to be true, but you have to admit, there is a part of you that believes in him. If he can read and understand human emotion, there are chances for him to be able to write a decent song.

“What was your purpose in making Johnny and the other guys in the group?” You asked suddenly.

Youngho frowned at the memories that came up in his mind. “I actually didn’t create Johnny and the others to be idol singers.” You furrowed your eyebrows at the bombshell. “I actually intended for them to be soldiers.”

Your jaw dropped. You would have never thought of #S127 fighting in a war. It’s a complete 180 from what they are doing right now.

“What made you change your mind?!” To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

“I didn’t change my mind.” He laughed. “The government rejected my offer, but they told me about LSM Inc. and now here I am. Lee Soo Man suggested that I use my bots to make an idol group, and I wanted nothing to do with it. But it was either I make a group, or be broke with robots that have no purpose.”

So he was in a similar situation that you’re in right now. It made you feel happy to see that he seems to enjoy his current circumstances, but still, you can’t get yourself to accept that you have to share competition with AIs who can’t even figure out how to write a song on their own. Despite that, you were growing fond of Johnny, and you wanted him to be able to find his passion. He’s the only AI you would allow to win.

“I would have never thought of Johnny being a soldier.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Considering that this is your current circumstance, you need to figure out if they’re able to create their own goals for themselves. I understand the base goal is to win awards at big music shows and hit the charts, but there needs to be a better foundation.”

Youngho couldn’t help but admire you as you gave your advice. Not only are you beautiful, but you’re thoughtful, and the more you spoke, the more it attracted him to you. Where were you when he needed you the most? The company has worked with so many different artists before you, but you’re the only one that is actually helping. He just wanted to take you into his arms and thank you repeatedly at this moment.

From here on out, Youngho was determined to find out what Johnny’s goal is. Whether it is impossible or not, he is going to make sure Johnny becomes the best songwriter there is.

***

The three months had gone by before you knew it, and in all honesty, you didn’t want to quit the job. Johnny and you had grown closer the more you worked together, and you enjoyed seeing his progress as he worked to become a better and more authentic writer. And Youngho and you also hit it off very well, becoming closer friends the more you talked. You also realized that you were catching feelings for the scientist, but you ignored it, believing that it was nothing but a simple crush. ‘It will pass overtime,’ you would tell yourself.

Kun on the other hand did nothing to remind you of the deal that you made with him since he knew you forgot about it. He enjoyed seeing you have fun made him happy, he never liked seeing you in a sour mood. He too has gotten close with Youngho as well after going out drinking with him and Doyoung several times. Just like tonight.

This time, you decided to join the guys tonight for drinks at the bar. Once you found out Kun was hanging out with the two scientists, you felt left out and invited yourself to the next outing. It wasn’t like they minded though since they love your company.

“So, I heard that you don’t really like AI’s Y/N. Can I ask you why that is?” Doyoung asked.

You poked your lip out as you thought. “Well, it’s mainly because nothing they do feels true to me. It’s all programmed. Not only that, but they’re slowly taking over our jobs. I’m not exactly comfortable with that.”

Youngho shook his head. “I get what you’re saying, but that’s not necessarily true. AI’s, at least the ones we make at LSM, is made to function like humans. So everything they do is learned after we establish a little bit of a foundation we put in their program. And there are still significantly more humans who have jobs than AI’s, but I do get your concern.”

What he said had you thinking. You supposed he was right, but you still felt so odd about it. But you figured it’s just something that you’re going to have to learn to accept as time goes on. The only AI you trust is Johnny, and that’s all that matters to you right now.

“You might be right, but it’s going to take me some time to get used to them. I like Johnny at least.” You shrugged.

“And that’s all I need to hear.” Youngho smiled widely.

You giggled at his antics. “Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom really quickly. I’ll be back. Don’t buy any more drinks without me!”

“No promises!” Kun called after you, laughing afterward.

Youngho tapped his glass, trying to decide whether the question he has is worth asking or not. But he needed to muster up the courage since it’s an important question. For him at least.

“Hey, Kun, I have a question.” Youngho started.

“Hit me.” Kun nodded.

“Do you… like Y/N?”

Kun threw his head back in laughter. “What?! Where did that come from?”

Youngho could only scratch the back of his neck and let out a small laugh. He was embarrassed, but it’s something he has been wondering about forever now.

“He’s been waiting to ask that question for ages!” Doyoung exclaimed. “He wouldn’t stop bugging me about it.”

“Well, to answer your question, no I don’t. She’s like a sister to me.” Kun shook his head simply. “You should ask her out on a date. I’m sure she’d like that.”

Youngho shook his head fervently. “I don’t know if I can do that. Not right now at least.”

“You never know until you do it.” Doyoung sing-songed. Kun couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shut up, she’s coming back!” Youngho whisper yelled.

For the rest of the night, Youngho thought about you as the four of you enjoyed more drinks. He knew he had feelings for you, but he wasn’t sure if you felt the same as he did. For now, he just wanted to take more time to read your actions before he let you know of his feelings. He needs time to muster up the courage.

The four of you decided to end the night after realizing how tipsy you have gotten. Kun realized that you had a packed schedule the next day, so they needed to get you home immediately. He already knew you were going to regret it later on.

Kun had made sure you got up to your apartment safely. You stopped him at the door, saying that you could get in the house yourself, and just go home. He at least opened the door for you before leaving, hoping that you’ll get to bed right away rather than finding things to do around the house.

When you entered your home, you began to drag your feet toward your room, that was until Johnny stopped you in the hallway.

He leaned forward and sniffed. “Were you drinking?”

You giggled. “Yeah, I was.”

“You might want to get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.” Johnny pouted at your condition. Looking at how you were, you for sure were going to experience a hand hangover in the morning.

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” You waved him off. You stepped forward to start going to your room, but you paused and stepped back. You looked up at Johnny and sucked in a sharp breath as you thought. “You look a lot like Youngho.”

Johnny blinked, confused at the sudden revelation. “I am aware of that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you just saying that because you are Youngho? Are you trying to fool me?” You poked your finger into his chest.

“No…” Johnny wasn’t sure how to respond to your absurd words. He’s never been in this situation before.

“Well, Youngho, goodnight. I will see you tomorrow.” You smiled at him. Rather than leaving, you stood there, staring up at who you believed to be Youngho through your heavy eyelids. Suddenly you got on your toes and pecked his lips softly. “Rest well Youngho.”

Johnny stood in shock after you left to your room. What was he going to tell Youngho? He has never allowed this to happen before. The kiss was so unexpected that he couldn’t dodge it! He hoped he wouldn't get in trouble.

The next day, Johnny was at the lab for the daily check-in.

“How was the night at the Babysitter’s?” Youngho asked as he plugged Johnny’s chip into his computer to retrieve yesterday’s data.

“She kissed me.” Johnny found himself blurting.

“She what?!” Youngho squeaked.

“She kissed me.” He repeated.

Youngho couldn’t believe his ears. He shook his head, slapping his hand on his forehead. “Huh?!”

“She kissed me—“

“I heard you the first two times!” Youngho yelled.

Youngho suddenly turned around to his computer and rushed to retrieve any video data if there were any. And there was. The camera hidden behind Johnny’s eyes wasn’t always on, but they only started recording if Johnny felt that he needed to. Youngho played the video, nervous about what he’s about to see. But all that worry washed away after seeing your drunken smile. Seeing you kiss his robot amused him more than he thought, as he couldn’t help but snort and laugh hysterically at what he just watched. It was something he never thought he would see or even hear about.

“She thought I was you,” Johnny revealed, which shut Youngho’s laughter up.

“W-Wait, really?” He was shocked.

“Yeah. She kept calling me Youngho.” Johnny nodded. “I think she likes you.”

A blush crept up Youngho’s neck, and he couldn’t hold back the grin on his face. Knowing that you had the same feelings he currently has sent him over the moon. He just wished you kissed him rather than his lookalike.

Youngho waited until the evening to talk to you so that you were free from all your schedules. The two of you spoke at the convenience store near your apartment, enjoying a canned beverage.

“So… Johnny found out what his goal is,” Youngho revealed.

You gasped, clapping your hand over your mouth. “For real? What is it?” You were slightly disappointed that you didn’t know what it was first since you’re the one that is with him most of the time, but you could care less since the whole point is that he knows what he’s working for now.

“Well, his goal is to gain more of a human understanding. He wants to be able to truly write a song. And he found a passion in… people, to simply put it.” Youngho chuckled. “He talks more and asks more questions than he has ever had before.”

“That’s great! I’m so glad, I was really rooting for him.” You cooed.

“I just want to thank you so much. He has been making so much improvement since he started working with you. You really helped us out. You helped him out.” Youngho smiled softly.

“Oh it’s no biggie. I’m glad I was of some help.” You laughed. “He’s the one who did most of the work, so the credit should go to him.”

“I’m supposing that’s why you kissed him then? Because you’re proud of him?” Youngho asked suddenly, a playful smirk on his face.

“What?” Your eyes grew wide in shock. “I kissed him?”

Youngho’s cackles filled the air. “You don’t remember? Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t since you were so drunk last night. Johnny told me you thought he was I, and you kissed him.”

Your fingertips touched your lips after the memories started coming back to you. “Oh my gosh!” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “This is so embarrassing!”

“Don’t be embarrassed! Actually, I’m quite flattered.” Youngho reassured you. “Just be sure to kiss me next time.”

You brought your hands down from your face so you could get a good look at his expression. You had to figure out whether he was joking or not.

And to answer your unspoken question, he cupped your cheek with his hand and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Please tell me this feeling is mutual.” You whispered.

Youngho chuckled, poking your nose as he sat back in his seat.

“Don’t worry. I want you to be mine as much as you want me to be yours. You have me baby.”

[hualianff]

Distant Faces

The Lonely (Instrumental) – Christina Perri

After much deliberation, HC finally decides what to give XL on his birthday: a painted portrait of XL and his parents during Xianle’s most prosperous days. Even though HC tries his best not to remember his life during those times, he knows XL loved his parents despite how everything turned out. 

It’s been over 800 years, after all. 

XL had offhandedly mentioned he can’t even remember the details of his parents’ faces anymore. The way his mother’s eyes shone chocolate brown in the sunlight; the way his father scowled in disapproval but never in a malicious manner. The way his mother held him when he felt sad, let him cry on her shoulder. The way his father looked proudly upon XL as his son.

Admittedly, XL had a complex relationship with his father. They didn’t always see eye-to-eye, especially towards Xianle’s inevitable deterioration. XL can cry because he misses his mother, but with his father, it’s more than that.

It’s regret.

It’s shame.

It’s anguish for the tension that kept his father at a distance that now seems insignificant.

But being the kind of person XL is, he’d rather remember the positive aspects of his relationship with his parents than the hardships.

Especially because he feels like he failed them in the end.

HC cannot relate to XL’s experience of having loving parents who genuinely cared for him, much less the loss of such parents. An abandoned child like himself had to bear the burden of living from a young age. HC did not grow up nurtured or fawned over; HC endured his cruel existence by looking after himself. 

After meeting XL again after his third ascension, HC now knows what it’s like to be loved–fiercely and unconditionally. To imagine losing XL gives HC a palpable semblance of what XL felt when he woke up completely alone on the day his parents passed. Over the decades, XL has briefly talked about that day, though never in full detail. Partially because XL’s mind has blocked out the trauma, but it is also simply too painful to remember.

Originally, HC heavily debated whether gifting his husband the portrait was even a good idea. The last thing he would want to do is upset or offend XL. HC wasn’t even sure he could properly replicate the king and queen’s faces.

Ultimately, HC decided to go through with his plan. He hopes that if anything, this painting can help XL recall his parents’ faces and the fond memories he had with them. Perhaps it could serve as an outlet for healing from the years XL suffered on his own. Everything HC does is for the happiness of his husband.  

After going through one of his earliest memories via his butterflies, HC spent days sketching, outlining, and painting the portrait. He miraculously managed to portray the details as accurately as possible—MQ and FX themselves confirmed. The two heavenly officials failed to hide their teary eyes, MQ abruptly turning away while FX furiously rubbed at his cheeks. It’s one of the few instances HC holds his tongue when around the two martial gods.

There is no shortage of people who celebrate XL’s birthday when it arrives—heavenly officials, Ghost City, and worshippers alike. HC spends the entire day by his husband’s side, visiting as many festivals to witness the joyous ceremonies. Worshippers place extra lavish offerings on their altars while XL’s friends personally deliver their gifts at Puqi Shrine. (The designated location for heavenly officials.)

Once it’s evening and the festivities have calmed down, only two remain inside Puqi Shrine. HC has taken the liberty to cook a quick meal for them to share. He ladles soup into XL’s bowl, then scoops rice topped with fried fish onto his plate. 

“Thank you for making us dinner, San Lang. It looks delicious,” XL says, eyes sparkling. HC smiles warmly.

“I would be a fool to not spoil Gege with wonderful food, regardless if it’s his birthday or not,” HC solemnly says. “Though I do hope he enjoys the fish and soup.”

“There are no doubts about that,” XL replies before eagerly spooning some broth into his mouth. His eyes visibly widen as he sputters a bit, spoon lowering back into the bowl. “Oh, that’s hot!”

“Careful, gege. Allow this dutiful husband to blow on it.”

They finish eating with satisfied slurps and chewing, keeping casual conversation between bites. Before XL can get up to clear off the table, HC snaps his fingers, every dish already washed and placed back in the cabinets. 

They are finally alone, energy spent and stomachs no longer empty. HC’s eyes shift to the corner of the room where a covered, flat object is propped against the wall. 

“Gege, I have one last present for you.”

“That’s been here this whole time? Wow, it’s so big!”

HC doubts himself even as he hands over the wrapped gift. He watches with bated breath as XL carefully works open the covering with nimble fingers to reveal what’s inside.

Once XL sees the entire painting in all its glory, his hand flies over his mouth. His initial excited smile upon tearing away the wrapping paper is replaced with a tense frown, the type when someone is trying their best not to cry. 

A ragged sob escapes his lips.

XL can’t stop staring at their faces—his parents’ faces—who he hasn’t seen in centuries. Who he never got to say goodbye to. He touches the canvas, paints dried and glossed over with a finishing product that gives the image a sleek sheen. He touches their familiar faces, pleasant smiles etched onto their lips, and then his own, placed between his father and mother, smiling widely: happy.

XL hugs the canvas to his body, closing his eyes, and cries his heart out.

HC’s heart shatters at the sight of XL breaking down, though it was almost a guaranteed reaction. He doesn’t hesitate to rush forward to embrace his beloved from behind, nuzzling against XL’s temple as his smaller body trembles uncontrollably. But before HC can express his pitiful apology, he hears quiet, repetitive mumbling among XL’s broken sobs.

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Gege-”

“Thank you.”

“-breathe, my love.”

“Thank you.”

Over and over again. Nearly nonsensical through ragged chokes and desperate gasps for air. HC shakes his head as tears wet his own cheeks, as if to say a thank you was not needed. He rubs up and down XL’s arm, occasionally pausing to massage his neck, anything to comfort him in his sorrow. XL suddenly grasps onto HC’s wrist, an anchor from the barrage of overwhelming emotions washed over him over the last few minutes.

HC eventually rasps out a remorseful, “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what for exactly. For triggering XL’s tears. For the death of XL’s parents. For the loneliness and grief XL has experienced and never had the proper closure to.

XL continues weeping without a sound. For the fear of ruining the portrait with his tears, XL carefully places the painting on the table. He gives the painting one last lookover, lower lip wobbling. XL bites his lip to suppress the whimper threatening to erupt from his throat. 

How could he ever forgive himself?

“Me too,” a son whispers to his parents. 

Half an hour later, XL and HC are situated in their bed at Paradise Manor. Per XL’s request, HC skillfully hung the painting up next to their wedding portrait. Two pieces juxtapose two different eras; one, a window to the past; the other, a relic that will remain timeless.

Someday in the future, XL will have the strength to commemorate his parents with more than just a fleeting prayer. He will describe them with words and stories that do them justice. He will honor their legacy not by following in their footsteps (for they have long disappeared against the force of time), but by practicing the values they bestowed upon him while simultaneously learning from their faults and mistakes.

However, for tonight, HC wraps XL in a snug blanket burrito, holding XL from behind as the former prince mourns in silence. HC doesn’t push his beloved. He merely squeezes XL’s hand to remind him he has someone to listen to him. The last thing XL requests before falling asleep is another portrait of his parents, this time with both him and HC sat in the middle. 

“Father...Mother...if you could see me now...see how happy I am,” XL tiredly thinks, sleep beckoning him to surrender to the darkness. “You guys really...would have loved him.”

(Special thanks to @no-one-says-hi and @iaintnosidekick for listening/helping)

(Inspiration)

[gojology]

Clubs Aren’t My Thing. (2/2) (18+)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | woooo, part 2 ! as stated previously, this is heavily inspired by @/mystic-sky on tumblr or skyfelt on ao3. amazing writer, check her out (but this isn’t a direct copy, just same storyline in a way). i’m cleaning up my writing a lot, i think. maybe im getting better as well? probably not but uh i kinda gave up at the end and uh.. hope u enjoy.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Voyeurism To Some Degree, Teasing, Ripped Tights, I didn’t proof read. 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Dom! Gojo x Sub! Female Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 4561

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | In which you finally get fucked by this mysterious, yet freakishly handsome stranger. That’s it, you just get fucked.

       The first thing you realize is how cold it is.     The wind is working against you, it seems, as you take your first step out of the warm building. Hair blows in every direction, you button up your cardigan, your breath coming out in puffs of smoke. Shivers went down your spine.    Not too far behind you, the mysterious man that you had met just an hour ago trailed behind, winking and waving at the girls confidently using him as eye-candy. Long strides, hands shoved into his pockets.    Your heart swells as you watch other woman stare flirtatiously as he gestured back at them, before their eyes set on you. He followed you like a duckling, and you’re sure to relish in how powerful it made you feel.    He walked like a model, with so much confidence. He didn’t appear as cold, his cheeks were flush and he reeked of fruity sugary alcohol, a playful grin still stubbornly on his face, 5 minutes later.    “Uber should be coming soon... I think, too lazy to check. You cold?” he slurred huskily.    You nod. For a one night stand, he was strangely kind to you.     He doesn’t say anything after that, so you opt to listen to the life around you. The clicking of high heels, the chatter, the drunken rants.     “Aw, come here.”     He didn’t give you much of a choice, though. Pulling you in to his chest, without warning. Your first instinct is to scream bloody murder, but he’s so warm, and you definitely need it.    One loose arm over your figure, his unoccupied arm dangled dangerously close to your butt. Taking in a deep breath, anticipating the feeling of being so scandalous in public, he chuckles breathily, almost like a taunt. You can feel the rumble in his chest as he cleared his throat.    You stare up at him, confused as to why you’re not feeling anything in your lower regions, before you realize what he was doing.    Rubbing your head with the once unoccupied hand, his fingers weaved into your hair as he sniffled. Something about the interaction was strangely intimate, but you don’t dare to say a word.     You inhale sharply, rubbing your face into his chest. You want to get closer, deep in bliss as he seemed to return the want back. You want to close any remaining space between the two of you, but making the first move was scary.    He yawns, and this triggers you to yawn as well. It was probably well past 1 AM by now, and you were tired.    You couldn’t hear much around you other then the honk of the growing sea of cars, some people just starting their night, and the others ending it.     “Oh shit. Our Uber’s here.” he mutters under his breath, pushing you out of his chest gently.    Whining, you try to push yourself back into his arms, he takes a quick glance down at you, traces of a faint lukewarm smile playing upon his lips. Almost like he’s saying, “Are you kidding me right now?” before taking a hold of your hand.     Fingers intertwining as if they were meant to be together, you gawk down at your hands, before looking back up at him.     There were a few issues, one, you had no idea if this man had an intent to kidnap you. Second, you didn’t know what the Uber looked like, and you’re too embarrassed to ask. Third, he was holding your hand with no hesitation, and the feeling in your chest was indescribable.    You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but you hope that it’s something along the lines of what you’re thinking. Your eyes briefly flickering over his jawline as you pondered to yourself, but what you do know is that you’re being dragged towards the presumed Uber. It’s sleek, and black, with a glossy finish, you note.    “Yo chill, I’m not gonna kidnap you, missy.” chuckling, examining your doubtful, yet frightened expression. He swung open the car door carelessly.    “After you, m’lady.” he adds, bowing and straightening, his chin up.     “Thank you, Sir Mysterious.” you give him a small smile before sliding into the sleek, comfortable seats.     His eyebrow raised, he looked at you.    “That’s a first.”     “It’s also a shit nickname, maybe that’s why you’ve never heard it.” you suggested.    “I like it. Has a nice ring to it.” a lukewarm smile played at his glossy lips.    The sly smile wipes clean off your face, he laughs at you while sliding into his designated seat, as if he owned the car.    Right. You were in a car, and it would be best for you to study your surroundings, just to make sure you weren’t being kidnapped.     The car was obviously expensive, black leather reclining seats, and a sweet offering of warmth against the chill of the midnight air.    A coffee cup idly stood in the cup holder, the driver taking a quick sip and turning his body to look at you two. Air fresheners and various trinkets dangled from the rear-view mirror, swinging back and forth     “A couple, eh? You wanna go to this address?”     The driver whipped his phone out, an address in black, bold text stood out.     “Yep.” the man says confidently.     Opening your mouth to speak, you try to inform the driver that he wasn’t your boyfriend, before your supposed boyfriend covers your mouth with his hand as soon as the driver repositioned towards the steering wheel.     You realize that his other hand is on your thigh, stroking your skin.    This newfound position was at the very least, terrifying. There was another person in the vehicle, for starters, and you weren’t exactly the quiet type when it came to, well, anything in general.     Cold, large calloused hands considerately caressed your thigh, and your breathing hitches. His other arm against his side, but you know his fingers are itching to feel you all over. You want to moan, but the driver’s presence is enough to tell you that it would be stupid.    Fingers drawing shapes, words, anything would repeatedly loop on the sensitive skin just barely. He was definitely teasing you, but you couldn’t quite fight back.    “Why don’t you be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” he whispers, you anticipate the driver to look back at the two of you, and to throw both of you off the car, but he does no such thing.    Feebly, you raise your arm up, ignoring the flirtatious request. Swatting his hand away in a desperate attempt to get him to stop before it got out of hand, but he’s persistent.    It’s getting even more difficult to breathe quietly now, your body getting hotter and hotter and hotter.    It doesn’t take long for a noise to slip out from your lips that you can’t quite shut up, and the driver turns to look at you.     “So precious.” the white haired man mouths to you before quickly turning his head to look at the window, humming to himself, still caressing your thigh.     “Ma’am? Are you okay?”     About to respond, the white haired man scooched closer to you. His clothed leg now rubbing your bare skin. He whistles innocently in the opposite direction before skimming his hand against your inner thigh, and you almost shriek.    Instead, you let out a pathetic gasp.    Panning his gaze over to you, he gives you a sly, playful smirk, before looking away again.    Drawing more shapes onto your skin, he hums. It was so hard to focus, or even remember the words the driver had said literally just a minute ago. You feel yourself shiver, almost losing yourself entirely to his hands before shakily responding to the driver, praying to any divine figure in the skies that you would be coherent.     “Y-yeah. Just, spilled water on m-my clothes.” you reply, barely audible.     The driver’s eyes stared back at yours, concern etched onto his features, before sighing. Tension grew inside of you.    “Alright, if you need anything, just ask, okay ma’am?”     Trying to respond, no sound comes out of your mouth, and the reason dawns on you. Taking a quick look down, the man’s digits were now fumbling with your panties, brushing against your wetness.     It takes a moment for you to register in your brain, you thank every entity possible for preventing the inevitable slew of noises you’d make. Waves of need crashing over your body. You hungrily stare at him, hoping that he’d be kind enough to stop and save it for later.     Circling your entrance through the now utterly soaked panties, he dips his finger in, just enough so you could feel the slight pressure against your sensitive skin.    He’s fucking taunting you again.    Driver be damned, you needed him.    Opening your legs more, you confidently peer at him, inviting him to explore your body even more. His fingers are drumming against the leather surface, the other hand had retreated back to your thigh,  boldly looking at you back.     “No. I thought you didn’t want to, what’s with the change of thought?” he mouths, stifling a chuckle and a smug tone, already knowing what you were going to ask.   Bewildered, you gape at him before shaking your head curtly, making sure you’re staring daggers at his stupidly arrogant face.     “Stop fucking playing with me then!”     “You’re too cute.”    “Fine then.” closing your legs, you stare out the window, your chin sitting on the palm of your hand. Flickering blurry lights passing by quickly. Looking at your reflection, you steal a quick glance at the flirtatious bastard.     “If you’re so angry, why can’t you look away from me for 1 second?” he whispers proudly.    You can’t think of a snarky remark, so you huff and look back at the window defeatedly.    What a cocky arrogant little-    Your bruised pride burning into ashes, you grunt in response before the car abruptly halts to its stop.    Were you two too loud?    “What are you two so scared for? Freezing up like a deer in headlights, we’re at your destination.” the driver said, twisting his head around, his eyebrow slightly raised.     “Oh, yeah, thanks.”     That was way too close to comfort, and you’re resisting the urge of banging on his chest for being so overly confident in his endeavors. You open the car door, cursing under your breath, swinging your legs out and lightly stepping out.     First thing you realize in the new destination? This guy was obviously loaded.     In front of you were a bunch of condos, and it was bound to cost a lot. Modern architecture was all you could see, wide windows and balconies in every corner. Suddenly, you’re self conscious about your outfit, were you too poorly dressed?    The man hums, placing his hand on your shoulder. Plant life was meticulously placed in such a beautiful manner that you promise yourself that you would search up his name- if you ever got it, on the Forbes lists.    “Like what you see?”    Snapping out of it, you look back at him, and you nod, still astounded by his presumed riches.    “Yeah? Lets go up missy, I got more to show, in more ways then one.”  ‧₊˚✩彡.            Standing in front of his door, you realize how quiet and still the atmosphere is. He fumbles with his keys, muttering to himself, and you can’t help but wonder if you’re about to have sex with some celebrity.     Not knowing how to start conversation, you clear your throat.     “You ever going to tell me your name?”     “Aw, the little baby still wants my name.” he cooed    “Call me Gojo.” he adds nonchalantly.    “(Y/N).” you reply, ecstatic. That wasn’t too hard, but you wonder why he didn’t just give up his name to you at the club earlier. Perhaps he didn’t think he was going to take you back?    “Aw, sugar. You scared?” Gojo says, looking you up and down. Well, that’s what you assumed. He still had his glasses on.    “No I’m not, who said that?”    “Look at your legs, missy.” he cheekily replies.    Looking down, you realize you’re violently shaking, and you didn’t even realize it.    “...Maybe.” you say coyly.    He breathily chuckles, finally opening the door with the right key.    You’re surprised by the presence of such a spotless place, a large, plush black leather couch was in one corner, the other, an island. Amazingly large windows replaced what would usually be the walls, and you could see the extent of the city life from where you’re standing.      “Slip your shoes off girly, sandals on the left. Can I offer you something?” Gojo questions you, walking over to the island.     “...I’m not much of a drinker.” you reply, still standing in the doorway. You were honestly more interested in him then the small talk.     “Baby, sit down. Don’t you wanna see me up close?” he pats the cushioned island seats, and you sheepishly walk over.    “I have apple juice too. If that’s more your vibe.” you watched him swirl some melting ice cubes around in a glass of water with a spoon.    “I’m not 12.” you retort, maybe the guy wasn’t a celebrity. No famous guy has apple juice in the fridge, rather then fancy champagne and wine.     Gojo snickers, “Hey, I’m not 12 either, I’m nearing my fucking 30′s but I can never reject a good box of apple juice, plus, I teach a group of kiddos that drink this shit like it’s fine wine.”     You pause, this guy was NEAR 30? He certainly didn’t look the age, and second of all, he bought apple juice just for the kids he taught? That was surprisingly sweet, but that didn’t explain the richness.    “You’re a teacher?” you nod as he hands you a chilled box of apple juice.     “Uh, yeah.” he scratches the back of his neck. “International Japanese teacher, sometimes I just teach in Japan as well. It pays good.”     “No way you actually live here. Is this your friends place?”     He laughs loudly, “So backhanded, and sassy! Nah, this is my place. As I said, job pays well. Feel free to stop by for a good fucking.” he says whilst pouring liquor into his glass cup.    “You’re really confident in your abilities of fucking people.” you sarcastically note aloud as he slides into the comfortable tall stool next to you, drink in hand.    “Hm, you weren’t saying that when I was touching you in that car, brat. How strange.” sipping his beverage lightly.     Your mouth zipped shut, and he laughs again.     “Aw, don’t go all awkward on me.” his once vacant hand now rubbing your shoulder. Setting down his drink, taking off his glasses. He doesn’t give you much time to admire his eyes, but what you can see is an almost aquamarine color, flecks of darker blue sprinkled throughout. So brilliantly colored it didn’t look real.     Before you realize it, he leans closer into your neck, suckling your skin and lightly nibbling. His breath fanning over your delicate skin, you can’t even hold back, gasping a little as his hands played with the hem of your cardigan, tugging at it playfully.     You can’t even formulate words. He was undeniably good, his suckling now gradually getting more harsher and harsher, and you dread coming back to your friends place, neck full of hickeys, you’d be nudged for whoever did that to you for the rest of your life.     He grunts, standing up in the little space between what was his stool and yours, even on such a surprisingly tall stool he still towered over you. He has to slightly crouch before his eyes is at the level of your neck, hungrily crashing back down.      “G-Gojo!” you squeaked, struggling to do much of anything. You’re limp on the stool, slumped and burning up. Your skin was ridiculously hot.     “Hmmm?” he smiles into your neck, pausing momentarily, you can feel him exhale harshly on your skin. You look him up and down, the sexual tension between the two of you was prominent, and so was the tent in his pants.     You feel a whine creep up towards your throat, now realizing just how wet you are. Ignoring this, you gesture to your clothes. The layers were sticking to you, and you never wanted anything more then to just get the sex started.    “...Hot.” is all you can muster pathetically.     “What was, baby?” he coos at you.     “Me.” shrugging off your cardigan the best you can, you let out a subtle whine, the weird feeling growing between your legs.     “Yes, we both know you’re hot.” tipping your chin upwards to look at him, he smiles. “use your words.”     “Clothes.. Off.” you pant, obviously sick and tired of the stupid sexual tension and the teasing.     “Full sentence, girly.” he repeats, stroking your cheek with his thumb.     You inhale his scent, smelling of expensive cologne and lingering sickeningly sweet alcohol. Looking up at him, but averting your gaze as soon as you saw those incredible eyes once again.    “Look at me.” he orders.    You peer up at him, swallowing.     “P-please, take my clothes off.” you say politely.     “All it took was a few hickeys? You really are a pretty kitty.” he smiles, kissing your forehead. “Get down.”     You nod obediently, getting off the stool and looking back up at him, anticipating his next step.     He bends down, swooping you up bridal style. One arm under your legs, gripped firmly onto the skin, the other under your waist. Your arms instinctively and rather slackly around his shoulders.     You expect something, a kiss, anything, but all Gojo does is walk down an endless hallway full of doors.     You lean closer into him while pouting, hoping that’ll catch his attention, but he doesn’t say a word.     “Where are we going?” you finally ask, growing needy.    “Bedroom. I’m not fucking on the couch. Pretty princesses deserve to be nice and comfy.” he replies back, fidgeting with the door knob. For a few seconds, all you can hear is how rapidly your heart is beating inside your chest, the rustling of clothes brushing against one another, and then the feeling sets in again.     You could very well be fucking someone that was out of your league.     He breathes a sigh of relief, and before you have the time to fully study his bedroom, he throws you off of the bed with a grunt.     Gojo’s toned forearms by your side, you were obviously trapped. You can see his chain just dangle barely swing back and forth on the tip of your nose, his lips curled into a lukewarm smile.    “You were so cheeky with me earlier, where’d she go?” stroking the corner of your lips.     He doesn’t give you the time to respond, instead locking lips with you and rolling over to be on your side. It starts off small and soft first, but it gradually grew hot. The fluttering in your chest only intensified. Tongues exploring every inch of one another’s mouth, you swear you can taste mint. The anxiety melted off of you like wax, and the only thing he could focus on was how soft you felt against his lips. Delightfully experienced enough for it to be good, but not better then him.    The smell of him was stronger now, and you’re sure you won’t be able to leave without some of it remaining on your clothes. Regardless, it was an addicting smell. Something you needed to come back to. Furiously exhaling through both of your noses, he finally lets go.     Dazed, your whole body tingles. You want him to claim you all as your own, hungrily staring at him for more. Both of you were radiating heat. The kissing left little for thought, and all you can think about is kissing him once again. It seemed that the more you spent with him, the more demand you had for his attention.    “Such cute noises. Makes me want to ravish you more.”     Gojo tenderly pulls you in, claiming your mouth as his once again. Fumbling with your cardigan, yanking it off of your body. Large, hot hands brushing against your now semi-exposed skin, and you know he wants more. His hands brushed against your butt under your skirt, and you shiver just a bit.     Pulling out from the kiss, he looks at you, panting heavily.     “So beautiful.” he murmurs, brushing his thumb against your swollen lips.     “You wanna know why they call me the best?”     You nod, his arm snakes above your waist, forcefully flipping you down head first into the blankets.     Just now realizing that all your clothes are no where to be found, presumably on the floor, you shiver at the cold air conditioner blowing against you. That is, besides your skirts and your tights.     “On your arms, baby. Knees too.” he instructs, patting your butt.     You obey, a warmth rushing to your cheeks again. He had you like a dog being trained by it’s owner, following their every order.     “Good girl.” he says under his breath.     You’re about to tell him that you’re still wearing tights, about to open your mouth, you heard a loud rip disturb the peaceful atmosphere, and a cold exposure to your lower regions.     You squeal, digging your face into the covers, and he chuckles again.     “Oh baby. You were begging for this, I can see why now.” you felt him drag his fingers against your panties, and you whimper.    “So impatient for my touch, aren’t you kitty? You’ll have to wait.”     About to complain, you look back at him before you find him shoving you down, sitting on your knees now, your nipples hardened in the air, but you want to be stimulated else where.    “Be patient, and you’ll be rewarded, no complaining.”     “But-” he cuts you off.     “Don’t fucking talk over me, you got that?”     “...Yes sir.”      His eyes soften, and he gives you a soft kiss on the forehead before his hands brushed against your nipples, rubbing them with his thumb. Rolling the sensitive bud, you loudly moan, trying to express that you wanted more.    “God, you’re so cute.” he says under his breath, still rubbing and now slightly pulling them. Placing his mouth upon the abused buds, you stifle a cry out.     Gently suckling, he used his other hand to play with the other attention-starved nipple mildly.     You whine out again, beginning to melt under his stupidly experienced hands and mouth. The attention was nice, but you needed it some place else, his eyes looked up at you, his wet mouth still suckling your breast.     Taking his wet mouth off your nipple, he looked at you, mischief still evident on his face.     “You like that?” he says,  cocking his head to his side.    “I-If I say anything, It’ll fill your stupid ego.” you breathed.     “And if you don’t say anything I’m not doing shit.” his hand now rubbing your butt.     “You ripped my tights!” you spat back.     “I’ll pay for it and more, no bother babygirl. Now tell me what I want to hear.”      He obviously wasn’t lying, he could probably turn any girl into putty if he just wanted to, and here you were, in the palm of his hand.     “...Please touch me more.” you uttered shamelessly.    “Good girl. On your back, spread those pretty little legs for me too, why don’t you?”     Lying down on the plush mattress and warm pillows, you stare at the ceilings.    You peered at him starting where he left off. Giving you faint, yet chaste kisses on your breasts, trailing kisses down your stomach.     “Aw, your panties are absolutely fucking soaked baby, how cute.” he cooed, parting the soaked fabric to the side.     You look at him undress thoughtlessly, but you’re sure he’s done this several times. He did it with little to no effort, but that would mean that you’re not special.    It would be useless to think about right now, you were gonna have the dicking of your lifetime anyway, it was called a one night-stand for a reason. The mountain of clothes grew taller.    Growing impatient, you look up to where he was once standing, only to find him already in between your legs.     “So pretty.” Gojo purred, circling your entrance just as he had done previously in the car ride, you squeak.     “So lucky this is all mine.”     Gojo had figured he could add, “for the night.” but that strangely felt wrong.     He dips his fingers into your walls, and you cry out. Wrapping around his digits, sobbing, this wasn’t enough to satisfy your cravings.     “You want more?” he huskily said, a tone of playfulness still rampant.     “Yes! Please, just fuck me!” you croaked, already damn near about to cum from the teasing.     “That’s my girl.” he whispered under his breath, slipping off boxers you didn’t even realize were there in the first place.      He doesn’t give you a chance to see his full length, instead ramming inside of you. You inhale sharply at the sudden disruption.     The throbbing evaporated into thin air, and you’re desperately grabbing at the sheets to steady yourself. Sweaty and sticky skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the room, along with your moans and his grunts. You could feel him reaching heights that you would never be able to do with the dildos you had at your house, much less your fingers. One hand on your waist to steady your flailing body, the other, roughly groping your breast.    You were finding it hard to think, pleasure and euphoria filling your senses. Unknowingly, you wrap yourself around Gojo even harder then before.     “Fuck, baby, I can barely pull out.” he panted. “you’re too tight.”      You can’t even begin to respond, still deep in your state of pleasure, instead responding incoherently with a jumble of delicate moans and gasps in between.     “C-cum!”      “Hm? Repeat that princess?” he soothed.    You’re unable to respond again, instead you try to lift your head up, and Gojo feels himself throb again, watching your eyes flutter back.     It’s not until it’s too late, realizing a hot fluid flow down your holes. He pulls out, he himself ejaculating on your stomach.     Both muscles stretched taut, you both laid on the bedsheets, sweating and panting.     “Fuck, I haven’t had a girl like you in a while.” he says, turning his head to look at you. Strands of hair stuck to your forehead.     “R-Really?” he kissed your forehead, tipping your chin with his long fingers.     “Yes, really. I’m so lucky I spotted such a pretty little thing at a club.”      The sun was starting to rise, you note, and you realize just how perfect his body is with the new light.     A sudden warmth on your cheeks, you look down, still panting.     “Clubs aren’t my thing.” you said breathlessly.     “Fuck. It’s 5 AM” he says, eyes now glued to his phone, ruffling his white hair.     “I’ll go-”     “No, here, lets take a shower with each other, and then we sleep.”      “Okay.” you responded, hoping to not make conversation, still believing that he was a celebrity.     He handed you his phone, rubbing the back of his neck.     “Can I get your number?”     “...Why?” you questioned.     “...To call you back again, duh.” he teases, rubbing your head.      No way, he wanted you back at his house?      You?    Not wanting to fuck up your chances, you nod, something was growing inside of you, and you weren’t quite sure what it was, but you knew he made you feel special.    

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

hello my favorite writer it is me again i was wondering if i could have another will imagine (gn as usual) and could it be about a reader who feels insecure about being wills partner because they’re still working on being famous and feel like they’re mooching off of wills fame and end up pushing him away slightly and it’s angsty, but ends in fluff with will finally telling them he loves them and reassuring kisses <3

Favorite writer?? You flatter me, darlin', but thank you!

Also, so sorry this took so long! I've been really unmotivated/lazy lately and I wanted to write this as perfect as I possibly could. Also also, ya know how the Powerpuff Girls were made? Sugar, spice, and everything nice but Chemical X was added accidently? Yeah, this is that, but replace Chemical X with a lot of angst. My bad.😬

WARNING: Depressing themes throughout

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It wasn't often you felt insecure, but you figured it was just one of those days.

You hadn't been in many blockbuster films or tv shows, you were still working hard on your career. You loved the indie projects you worked on, you loved any job where you could act. It was your passion, after all.

You couldn't help feel a little bit insecure when your partner, Will, was where you aspired to be your whole life. He was brilliant, working with amazing people like Tom Hardy and Leonardo DiCaprio. So early in his career too. You looked up to Will so much, praying that you'd be just as talented as him one day. But you knew it wouldn't be easy, acting isn't exactly the easier job in the world, you knew it would take a lucky break.

You always joked that maybe you should work as a waiter in some restaurant, knowing that Edward Norton got his first movie role while working in such a place, only to move on to work beside the amazing Richard Gear.

It was just one day you felt bad about your career, but then it started to snowball into anxiety and depression. It got to the point where it was all you could think about, especially when you were out with Will. And you could tell that he knew something was up, the thousand yard stare that you often had was something that couldn't really go unnoticed.

But for the most part, you acted like everything was fine.

You hated that you let your insecurity pile on and on like this, it normally was something you could handle. You don't know what came over you, but you found yourself scrolling for hours looking at comments on any of your posts. Most people were supportive of you and Will's relationship, and you were thankful for that. But of course, there are always a few bad apples.

The wonderful and lovely, supportive comments were many, outweighing the hate by miles. But just one negative comment could throw you off, ruining your day.

You wished you could just focus on the positive, but unfortunately, that's not how brains are designed. It always has to point out a flaw, find that one odd man out, find the error in the system. Usually, most of those errors can be fixed. You spent your entire life trying to get people to like you, being somewhat of a pushover and a people pleaser, disregarding your own self in favor of praise. So seeing people online hating you for no other reason besides being with Will, seeing that they might never change their minds, it was devastating.

You knew that the hate would usually come from obsessed fans who must've been jealous of you, and you could understand that and it was fine. You remembered the younger years of being jealous of a person who dated your crush, it was something that most people grow out of thankfully. You could get over those comments, saying you weren't good looking enough or not fit enough, any comments about your appearance. The ones that really got to you was the comments about your "horrible" personality.

It was odd, people saying awful things about you when they didn't even know you at all. Most of the contradictory was were amusing. There was a point in time after your relationship with Will was made public, where you'd feel to nervous about going to red carpet events with him. The comments would say, "Y/n's not there with Will? What an unsupportive partner they must be!" or anything similar. But when you started to go with him sometimes, the comments would shift dramatically.

"Y/n's a gold digger."

"They're just using Will for his fame."

"He deserves better than that snake."

It hurt, more than you'd admit. You told Will it didn't bother you that much, just wrote it off that it's normal. Then, you never talked about it again.

You felt awful, every single day. Thoughts of self doubt clouding your brain constantly, thinking, "Am I really deserving of such a kind person like Will?" No matter how you looked at it, the answer was always no.

You started to feel like you shouldn't even be with Will anymore. There was most likely someone else out there, an actor with more talent and more self-sufficient than you were.

You and Will had been together for a couple years, you loved him so much, but when he asked you to move in with him, you said you weren't ready. The biggest lie you ever told, and you instantly regretted it when you saw the disappointed look on his face. But being the gentleman that he is, he said it was completely okay and that there was no pressure.

You absolutely didn't deserve him.

Every time Will asked you to go out with him, you always came up with an excuse to stay home. You felt too anxious about being out in public, the thought of a fan seeing you with Will brought you to the verge of a panic attack. You became distant, trying to distract yourself by throwing yourself into your work. You rarely saw Will anymore, and you knew if you kept up with how you were acting on your insecurity, you'd lose him. But you couldn't bring yourself to try and talk to him about it, you felt too embarrassed.

From Will's point of view, he thought you were becoming distant because of him. He wracked his mind trying to think what was it that he did to make you spend less time with him? At first, he thought, maybe you just needed some space. There were times where he needed to be alone, just like everyone does. But it felt like it was going on for too long. Every time he wanted to take you out somewhere nice, you'd politely decline and you'd opted for a night in.

There came a point where enough was enough, Will was determined to find out what was going on with you.

You stared at your cellphone, the screen lighting up with a picture of Will along with your set ringtone. You sighed, you really didn't feel like answering. You knew you should, but you couldn't bring yourself to. A feeling of dread washed over you, you didn't want him to think you hated him, yet you still couldn't. You rang your fingers through your hair, anxiously scratching your scalp harshly.

Your screen darkened, following with a notification, voicemail and text. "Y/n, what's going on? I've been trying...", you couldn't listen anymore.

"I'm sorry, Will..." You whispered to yourself, wrapping yourself up tightly in a blanket.

You almost screamed when you heard a rapid knock on your door, quickly tensing up when you heard Will call out from outside. "Y/n?"

You wanted to fucking scream.

"I know you're in there, just, please, talk to me."

The desperation in his voice forced you to get up from your couch, tossing away your cozy blanket with a huff. You shakily reached out and opened the door, Will's concerned face filling your view. "...hi."

Will chuckled bitterly. "Hi? That's it? You haven't talked to me in days. What's going on, love?"

"Nothing!" You explained, plastering on a fake smile with a chuckle.

Will smiled sadly. "You're lying." He said simply, pushing his way past you into your home.

"Will, please, I'm not up to talking right now."

"You know, I want to respect your wishes, I really do. But I feel that I've been patient. I've been trying to support you in any way that I can, but I can't help if I don't know what's going on." He sat down on your couch, pleading for you to sit next to him with his eyes. "We used to be open and honest with each other about everything. Tell me what's going on so I can help you."

You huffed, running your hands over your face. "It's not that simple..."

Will casted his gaze to your wooden floor, squeezing his hands together and taking a deep shaky breath. "Is it...is it because it's something I did?"

"What?"

"You're shutting me out. It's because of me, isn't it? I did something-"

"No." You quickly exclaimed, rushing over to his side when you heard his voice waver, taking ahold of one of his hands. "No, it's not you, I promise."

"Then...why? Why are you pushing me away?" Will sighed, biting his lip to keep himself from crying. "Do you not love me anymore?"

"I love you, Will, more than I can express." You chuckled bitterly. "It's hard to talk about."

Will brought a hand up to your face, gently brushing a freshly fallen tear off your face. "You can tell me anything, Y/n, anything."

You smiled weakly, bringing his hand you were holding up to your lips and kissed his knuckles softly. "Okay..." You took a deep breath.

"Take your time, love."

"Being with you, brings me so much happiness that it feels like I'm dreaming. You're so...amazing, and honestly the best and most kind person I've ever met. And I? I feel like I'm nobody."

"Y/n..."

"Compared to others, I'm no one. Just another person trying to live out their dreams that are so far fetched that it doesn't even seem possible to even come close to achieving them. You're so self assured that acting is what you were born to do and you're so talented. I envy you, and I feel so guilty feeling that way. Sometimes I feel like I wasn't meant to be an actor. I feel like...I'm trying to run towards my goal, but every time I make progress, the goal moves farther and farther away until I can't even see it anymore."

"Y/n," Will started softly, "I know how you feel. I've felt that way about my career too. I always wondered if there was going to be a light at the end of the tunnel. Yes, you can work as hard as you humanly can, but it also takes luck. You just have to be at the right place at the right time sometimes. That's why they call it a lucky break, ya know." He smiled, making you giggle tearfully.

"I know, but that's not all." You frowned. "I know you said, it's just better to ignore what the internet has to say, but...I was looking some of our comments a few months ago. And...I just went down a fuckin' rabbit hole. I know I always say that hate comments don't bother me, but...they do. They really do, and I let them get to me. I'm sorry."

"No, darling, I'm sorry. I didn't see what was really going on when I should've."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Will. I thought I was stronger than this."

Will quickly brought you close to his chest, wrapping around your torso with one arm, the other gently cupping your jaw. "Hey, you are the strongest person I know, okay? Don't think you're weak just because you're feeling something that every human on planet earth feels. Whatever those comments said, there's no one I'd rather be with than you." He leaned forward and kissed you gently, pressing his forehead against yours.

"I felt so embarrassed, Will. I wished I had talked to you sooner."

"It doesn't matter now. You opened up and I'm proud of you for that. I love you so much. And I promise to try my very hardest to never let you feel that way again."

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hope you enjoyed, @fcvcritecrime ! 🖤