#i imagine he also had a slightly low self-esteem; but not to the worrying point. mostly because of his own shyness

[malkaviian]

now that i've developed maverick a bit more, i have to think about how he was before the whole incident with zachary.

[orangerosebush]

Sitting on the branches of my family tree

[ao3 link]

Artemis was currently sitting alone in the kitchen at three in the morning. He didn’t quite know when he’d officially decided he wasn’t going up to bed, but one way or another he had found himself sitting in the gloom of the downstairs.

The room was dim, as Butler had turned off the hall lights before he’d retired for the evening sometime late the previous night. The only thing illuminating the kitchen was the faint, warm glow of the metal hot plate that was keeping the water in the kettle at a low boil.

Artemis frowned. He looked down at the cup of earl grey he’d been nursing for the past half hour. Probably too cold to enjoy properly at this point, he sighed.

Faint ripples formed in what tea remained at the bottom of the mug, and he furrowed his brow. That was odd. Straining his ears, he glanced at the entrance to the kitchen apprehensively.

Sure enough, coming slowly down the grand staircase was Juliet. Artemis blinked, eyes flickering back to the old clock on the wall.

Interesting.

“Either you’re up extraordinarily early,” he remarked as she tried to slink into the kitchen as quietly as she could. “Or you’ve stayed up rather late.”

Anyone else would’ve jumped at such a surprise, but Juliet merely tensed. Years of the Blue Diamond training program had left her with nerves of steel.

Turning to face him slowly, she gave him an appraising look.

“Hey,” she said carefully.

“Hello,” he responded, amused.

Silence settled over the room.

“I always suspected that you stalked around the house at night, Artemis,” she snorted after a moment. “Relaxing too much a waste of your time?”

“You make me out to be almost sinister, Juliet. I’m afraid this is just a rather mundane example of my insomnia flaring up,” he waved her off, getting up to move to the stove top. “Do you want any of the tea I was making?”

She took a seat on one of the barstools by the main table. “Tea? If you’re either constantly on a caffeine drip or are staring at a screen all the time, then I don’t think you have insomnia. You’re just a workaholic.”

“Clinically so,” Artemis murmured, flicking off the burner. “I take it you don’t want any, then?” he called out over his shoulder.

“Nah, I want some — I’ll take whatever you have that’s decaf and fruity,” she crossed her arms on the counter and rested her chin on them.

He wrinkled his nose, taking the kettle off the burner to pour the steaming water into his cup. Opening the cabinet above the stove, he reached for another cup, the cool china of the mug soothing against his skin. He placed a tea bag at the bottom of the new cup, watching a vibrant ruby diffuse through the water as the tea steeped. In contrast, his earl grey was a richer color, almost caramel.

Fingers curling around the warmth of the cups, he brought the two mugs over to the table. Juliet perked up, reaching for her cup. She let the steam waft up, coiling around her face, and she smiled warmly, closing her eyes.

“It smells like strawberries.”

Artemis took a sip of his earl grey. “It most likely has some strawberry in it. It’s the berry mix that Barry’s carries. The box is described as a refreshing blend of ‘red’ berries,” he made air-quotes.

“I can certainly taste the red, so I’d give it full marks,” she held it up approvingly, putting on what Artemis assumed was meant to be a parody of his affectation.

“On your way to being a tea sommelier, I see.”

“Mayhaps . Also, yours better be decaf,” she shot a pointed look at his cup.

“You’re hardly in the position to speak about maintaining good sleep habits — you were wandering about the halls as well,” he reminded her, deliberately taking another sip of his tea.

She flushed. “I was asleep. It’s not my fault I woke up and wanted to stretch my legs. Also, you’re not wandering if you’re walking about with purpose.”

“Did Ko tell you that?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Nope. I heard it from some pageant mum during the tryouts for the Miss Sugar Beet Fair.”

“In what context?”

“I caught her nicking stuff from the other ladies’ purses in the cubby area,” she remarked airily.

Surprised, he laughed. “I admire her panache. Very Fowl-esque of her.”  

“You can’t trademark being a conman that puts on airs, Artemis,” she rolled her eyes. “Mulch does the same shit, and I’m pretty sure he’s been around for at least three generations of Fowls.”

“I would disagree,” he stirred his tea. “At the risk of sounding egotistical, Diggums falls more into the category of being a petty crook than he does into the category of being a criminal mastermind.”

“Oh, really? We can ask him which one of us he agrees with if you want, Artemis,” she leaned forward, smug. “He’s been squatting in the cellar for about a month now.”

Artemis sighed. “I’ve been trying to actually catch a glimpse of him down there so that I can tell him to leave,” he said glumly. “I know he’s down there siphoning wine out of the casks, but he’ll surely argue that I’m just going mad if I attempt to kick him out over a phone call.”

“I thought you said he was just a petty crook,” she widened her eyes. “Shouldn’t a ‘criminal mastermind’ be able to handle evicting some random—“

“You’ve made your point,” he huffed.

“Gotcha!” she grinned.    

“Congratulations, Juliet, on successfully defending Mulch’s no doubt fragile self-esteem. I have no idea how he would manage to enjoy our vintages were he to know I referred to his escapades as ‘petty’.”  

Juliet shrugged. “Eh, wine is wine at the end of the day. You don’t even drink , Artemis.”

“Not all wine is created equal,” he argued, steepling his fingers. Sensing he was gearing up to give a spiel, Juliet huffed.

“Take for example the ‘87 Merlot — a wine which I suspect he has already sampled in excess,” Artemis began. “To call it a work of art would be to sell it short. Mulch is free to skim off the top of some of the lesser vintages, but I would appreciate if he would stay away from the quality wines that make up our rather expensive collection in the cellar.” Artemis sniffed, lazily swirling the remains of his tea.

Juliet snorted, resting her chin on her palm. “Nice speech. I was very moved by the ‘work of art’ bit.”

At this, the sides of Artemis’ mouth quirked upwards. “I have to defend it on principle. It was produced in an odd year, after all. Those always produce the best grapes.”

The young Butler rolled her shoulders a bit, her weight shifting in the chair as she stretched. Reaching up, her right hand tucked back a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of the messy bun she’d put her hair up in before bed. “That sounds like rich bullshit. No way.”

Artemis snickered, bowing his head in concession. “You’re right. It is.”

Juliet grinned. “Knew it. Where’d you hear that bit about the odd versus even years?”

He leaned back in his chair, his grip tight on the fading warmth of his cup. “Oh, it would’ve been a while ago. I thought it was so funny when I first heard about that rule,” he smiled fondly. “The Abbey Theatre was running Six Degrees of Separation. I remember pleading with mother to take me to see one of the performances — the press had just run a piece calling it obscene — and eventually, she relented. I was probably the youngest person in the theatre that night,” he chuckled.

As if lost in the memory, Artemis closed his eyes, his expression pensive. “There was one scene where the character Paul, a conman, was leading a young man around New York City. They went to the Rainbow Room to dine, and Paul told his companion that there was a secret trick rich people use when ordering wine: universally, the wines produced in the odd years are considered to be better. I remember there were titters in the audience —wine tasting is often based more on evaluating a bottle through a formula of factors than it is about the taste, and even the couples with cellars filled with vintages worth thousands of euros could have a bit of a laugh at that.”

Artemis opened his eyes, the whites flashing in the dim light. “But you see, it’s not a commonly held belief that odd year vintages taste better than even years. He’d made the rule up.”

Juliet blinked. “So?” she furrowed her brow. “It sounds close enough to some of the stuff I’ve heard people say about wine at the parties your mum throws.”

“True, but it wasn’t even one of the myths about wine!” Artemis leaned forward earnestly. “That night, the actor playing Paul said this particular line so assuredly that you believed he’d heard this straight from the mouth of an old money wine aficionado — at that moment, his compatriot melted away,  and we replaced him. Paul had turned his charm on the audience, stringing us all along,” his voice became quiet.

Tilting his head so that he was gazing at Juliet directly,  Artemis opened his mouth as if to say something before he closed it, frowning slightly. Worrying the inside of his cheek, he tried to formulate his next sentence. He almost chuckled at that. It wasn’t often that he was at a loss for words.

“Sometimes… sometimes I hear someone at a restaurant jump a little too quickly to choose the odd-year wine,”  he said finally. “Sometimes, I hear what sounds like a touch of smugness in a couple’s tone when they turn down an even-year vintage. It’s possible I’m imagining it, but I do wonder. I wonder now and then if they saw that play — maybe not on that night, maybe not in that theatre — and believed. ”

With that, Artemis sighed, finally placing his teacup gently on the table. By now, the smooth surface of the china was cool to the touch.

Juliet let one of her hands fall from her chin to the table, flexing her fingers in thought. “You know,” she began slowly. “I think I’ve seen a bit of Six Degrees.”

Artemis started, shoulders rising. “Oh?”

She nodded. “I’m pretty sure. I think they made it into a movie a while back. Will Smith was in it.”

Artemis stared at Juliet in silence, blinking owlishly. “Did… did you like it?”

Juliet puffed out her cheeks as she exhaled, thinking for a moment. “Actually,” she began after a moment, locking eyes with Artemis. “I can’t remember.”

That was all it took.

The floodgates were released, and the pair was wracked with laughter.

Artemis couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard that tears had welled in his eyes. He snorted, wiping the wetness on his cheeks away with the palm of his hand.

“You should really be getting to bed,” he said after they’d sobered, crossing his arms on top of the table. Juliet scrunched her face up, stretching in her seat.

“I’m not tired,” she protested.

Artemis cocked his head curiously. “We’ve both been up since sunrise yesterday,” he pointed out. “The skyline is already starting to light up along the water by the cliffs. I know Madame Ko trained you to work during the most extenuating of circumstances, but surely you do need to sleep every now and again.”

“God —you’re such a hypocrite sometimes, you know that?” she prodded his arm with a finger, and he almost winced. “And I wasn’t up since yesterday, okay?” she added, almost as an afterthought.  

He rubbed his shoulder. “Apologies.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Of course. Surely you weren’t on the phone with your girlfriend from your old wrestling troupe who is around, oh, six hours or so behind our time zone.”

Juliet’s cheeks turned scarlet. “Shut up, Artemis,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands in embarrassment. “Who even told you about her? Was it Dom?”

Artemis shrugged good-naturedly, refusing to comment. She shot him a withering look, finally dragging her hands away from her face.

“… Practice got out late. Sam forgot that a late practice over there is… early over here.”

“And you picked up the phone when she called anyway? So romantic. What a prophetic name you have, Juliet,” he grinned, and she flushed deeper.  

“I’m not letting someone who skulks around in the dark snark about my long-distance relationship,” Juliet crossed her arms, and it was Artemis’ turn to be defensive.

“I’ve explicitly told you already that I was not ‘skulking’.”

She laughed at that, and the light of the nascent sunrise made it seem as though parts of her blond hair were lit up by a fiery reddish-gold, Artemis thought. Some people were meant to be seen in sunlight, others in the moonlight — Juliet was well suited to the warm light of dawn, a light still full of reds, pinks, and oranges.

Juliet must have noticed he’d been staring, as she softened.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you’re always thinking so hard,” she said offhandedly. Artemis ignored the lump forming in his throat.

“I’m afraid ‘thinking hard’, as you put it, is what I’m built to do.”

She locked her gaze on him, frowning.

“You can think as much as you want during the day, Artemis,” she reminded him lightly, finally leaning back. “Holing yourself up until you finally have some big breakthrough can very easily turn into pushing people away, and you know it.”

“Ah,” he winced. “I assume that was a thinly-veiled reference to my sending your brother away to Cancún?”

Whether tired or just exasperated, Juliet ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, genius. Sometimes you’ve gotta slow down a bit so that we can all catch up with you. Especially Dom. The Cancún stuff nearly killed him, you know?”

He winced. “I know. I shouldn’t have used you as a way to manipulate — I shouldn’t have resorted to manipulating your brother at all,” he amended. “I let my paranoid mind get the better of me, as you said.”

“It doesn’t make it okay, but it wasn’t totally your fault,” she shook her head. “That’s what made it hurt more for him, in the end. He left to go to me in Cancún even though he knew something was… off with you because he thought I was in danger. Domovoi came after me because he thought his baby sister was in trouble,” she snorted at that. “But it still took the ‘worst case scenario’ to get him to leave you in the first place.”

She fixed him in her gaze. “Even at your lowest point, you knew on some level that it would take an emergency to get him to abandon you when you were hurt, Artemis. Lurking around the house at night so that you can drive yourself up the wall without anyone telling you to knock it off won’t change that. It’ll just make you feel like shit.”

They sat there in silence.

Artemis looked back at her, properly trying to make eye contact this time. “I am trying to get better, you know,” he said after a moment, almost grimacing when he realized how snarky that sounded. Thankfully, Juliet took it in stride.

“I know.”

He looked away, reaching for his forgotten cup of tea. The china was cool again, he found, turning it around between his hands.

“I’ll… try not to lurk around the house, as you put it so bluntly,” he said, only a tad begrudgingly.

She raised an eyebrow. “You won’t do it again, or you won’t get caught again?”

Artemis paused. “I’ll try not to do it again,” he decided after a moment, surprised to find he was being completely honest. Juliet seemed satisfied at that.

“Cool,” she grinned, beginning to relax once more into her usual easy-going manner.

“I appreciate you talking to me,” he added, tightening his grip on his cup. “You’ve given me much to think about. In a good way,” he smiled.

She beamed at that. Reaching to undo her bun, Juliet shook her head as though she were shaking off rain after coming inside. She must’ve showered before putting it up, as her hair seemed wavier than it usually was, he noted.

“Thanky."

“I suppose I ought to thank Sam for forgetting the extent to which Ireland is ahead of Mexico,” he mused, and Juliet seemed to be lost in thought for a moment.

“Yeah, you should — I stole a lot of what she’s had to say when I was making my point about isolating yourself and stuff,” she explained slowly.

“Oh?” he furrowed his brow. She waited a moment, seemingly debating how she was going to continue.

“Please. We grew up in the same house, Artemis. I’ve got pretty similar childhood baggage to what you’re probably leafing through. Parent stuff, growing up too soon stuff, normal 20-something stuff, weird 20-something stuff,” she shrugged. “She doesn’t let me mope, but she also like, sees me, you know?”

He regarded her for a moment, considering what she’d said. “You deserve someone like her,” he remarked. She shook her head.

“Not to drop my slightly- older-adult ‘adult wisdom’ on you,” she leaned forward. “But you’re not with someone because you deserve them or because they deserve you. She makes me laugh, she listens…” she trailed off.

“And so you pick up the phone each time,” he finished, and she grinned, tapping her nose.

“You’re starting to get it. It’s both the connection and commitment. We meet each other where we are, and then we move forward together.”

“Connection and commitment,” he echoed her.

“Connection and commitment and a whole bunch of therapy,” Juliet ticked off a finger for each one. He nodded, resting his chin on his hand.

“And ,” she added, shooting him a look. “Getting to bed at a consistent time.”

He made a face. “Does recovery necessitate giving up all the things that make life worthwhile?”

“My brother has a bunch of WebMD mental health articles printed out all over his room,” she poked him. “And the bits about developing good sleeping habits are all over the pages on the standard treatment for mood disorders. You probably have read the sources the articles cite, though — you don’t get a pass to run yourself into the ground just because you’re smart enough to give a lecture on psychology. Go to bed. The world will still be here when you wake up.”

He was going to say something snide about how he didn’t actually have the luxury of assuming the world would still be there, but he stopped himself. It was too early in the morning to bring up the specters that loomed prominently in his thoughts. Chasing those fears was what had started his spiral in the end, after all.

“Very well. I’d wish you goodnight, but it’s more apt to say good morning at this point,” he ventured, standing up from his seat.  

Juliet rose as well, following in suit.

“Thank god ,” she muttered. “Not that talking through feelings isn’t fantastic, but I was just about ready to toss you over my shoulder and haul you upstairs. I’m exhausted .”

Artemis tried not to look too stricken. He has no doubt she was completely serious.

“On a final note,” she sighed, patting down the wrinkles in her nightshirt. “I miss being lovingly suplexed by my wrestler girlfriend,” she complained.

He made a face.

“Come off it — I’m allowed to brag about my jock-centric relationship.”

He grimaced. “You’re a match made in heaven.”

She stuck her tongue out, and he rolled his eyes before starting to make his way over to the stairs. Artemis lingered in the doorway, resting his hand against the smooth frame. “Goodnight, Juliet.”

“Goodnight, Artemis.”

[moncherifaerie]

flawless - s.mg

pairing: song mingi x reader

angst/fluff

warnings: low self esteem, insecurities, anxiety, swearing

author’s note: lowkey, crying while writing this because mingi’s actually the bestest boy ever

8:13AM.

i looked over at my phone and turned off my alarm that was going off. once the blaring tone was turned off, i laid there in silence and felt weirdly at peace. i somehow managed to get a full nine hours of sleep last night and now i woke up with no hesitation at all.

could today be the day?

i cautiously sat up and swung my legs off the side of the bed as i looked around. nothing seemed to be out of place. everything was how it was last night when me and mingi went to sleep. yes, the apartment was eerily quiet, but mingi must be out doing our breakfast run today since he was the first of the two of us to be awake.

shaking any hints of anxiety out from my head, i finally stood up and made my way to the bathroom to get myself ready for the day. as i stood over the sink, i grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste and brushed my teeth without a second thought. i stared at my reflection in the mirror as i observed my surroundings and mindlessly counted how many seconds i’ve been brushing my teeth.

when my eyes fell upon my face, i felt my chest tighten as i noticed the smallest blemish on the side of my face.

it’s okay, it’ll go away once you wash your face or do a face treatment. that should do the trick.

i finished up brushing my teeth then went on to start washing my face. i already had my face dampened and was getting my cleansing brush set up for use. when i tried turning it on, the brush did a small vibration then shut itself off. the tight feeling in my chest slowly began to increase as i tried to fix this issue myself but nothing seemed to work until i referred to possible scenarios that might be causing this issue on the internet. i tried everything and finally resorted to letting it charge before testing it out tonight.

i let out a deep breath then looked myself in the mirror, trying with my entire being to avoid turning my head to look at the blemish and freak out over its presence.

“you’re okay, (y/n). it’s just a small imperfection, it’ll heal soon.” i reassured myself.

i tried again with my skin care routine but turns out i’m also out of my personal facial cleanser as well.

okay, this is fine. it’s fine, i can just run out and get some with mingi when he comes back home.

i took a shower to somehow try and relax myself as i felt myself getting worked up, but turns out, the water was too hot when i first turned it on to get the water heated and i ended up stepping out of the shower with scorching hot skin and hissing in pain.

i wrapped myself in my fluffy bath robe that was hanging on the back of the door before waddling out of the bathroom and laying myself down on the bed to cool down.

so much for things to work out today because i couldn’t even wash my own face or take a shower without fucking everything up. the air around me felt heavy and everything felt cold and numb to me despite feeling like i just took a shower in lava.

i faintly heard the front door open then the jingle of keys and the patter of footsteps making their way around the apartment. the footsteps made their way towards the bedroom and in popped mingi’s head.

“baby, you awake?” his deep voice soft and husky as he asked the question.

i tried my best to respond but the words got caught in my chest as i struggled to breathe, instead letting out a gasp.

mingi made his way over to where i laid on the bed and pushed my hair away from my face.

“(y/n), you’re skin is so hot.” mingi pointed out

his eyes flickered across my face, before wiping underneath my eyes.

was i crying? i had no clue. everything feels like nothing.

i heard mingi sigh in defeat before scooping me up in his arms and taking me to the bathroom again.

“it’s okay lovely. we’ll try again. nothing to get worked up about.” he spoke softly.

the sound of running water echoed throughout the bathroom before it stopped and mingi was holding onto the hem of my bath robe.

“i’m going to take this off and put you into the bath okay? you’re okay, lovely. they were just little accidents that we can fix together in a few minutes.”

he placed a kiss on my forehead before loosening my bathrobe and settling me into the bath, keeping eye contact with me the entire time and not daring to wonder his eyes elsewhere.

when my body hit the warm water, that was slightly on the cooler end, some feeling came back to me as the temperature was just right to cool down my suffering body. soft sniffles escaped my nose as i averted my gaze towards mingi and stuck my hand out towards him.

“mingi...” i softly cried out to him.

he hushed me and sent me a soft smile before holding onto my hand and placing a soft kiss on my cheeks.

“it’s okay, you’re okay. you didn’t make any mistakes, just little accidents. we’ll make sure you turned the knob for the shower a little bit to the right next time so you’re not burning yourself alive.” mingi tried to lighten the mood with a small joke, but that still didn’t help the small pang that hit me in the chest.

“i messed up everything though. i-i was brushing my teeth and i noticed a small pimple on my face. i tried to wash my face but there was no more cleanser, then my cleansing brush wasn’t working, and now i have this on my face, and i’m ugly now and everyone’s-”

my gasps for air and sudden sob quickly cut me off as mingi took a hold of my face and gently placed a kiss on my lips to help calm me down.

“breathe, baby.” he reminded me.

he exaggerated his breaths in order for me to keep up with him then continued to talk everything out with me to help ease my mind when he helped me get my breathing on track.

“first of all, you are not ugly, baby. you are beautiful, so beautiful. and what pimple on your face? i can’t see it and i’m looking everywhere on your face right now. but if it makes you feel better, i got you some cleanser while i was out because you told me you were out of it last night so i made sure to get it while i got us breakfast too. as for your cleansing brush, i’m sorry you had trouble with it this morning baby, but hopefully it’ll work for you tonight. another thing that’ll might help you is if i help you with your skincare routine. i can do it for you while you just lay here and relax. don’t worry, my love, you’re not burdening me at all.”

after mingi finished talking, i didn’t know how to respond, but instead shut my eyes and let him do as he said. mingi’s hands gently working themselves onto my face then wiping away the foamy cleanser away from my face then working themselves against my neck and shoulders helped me to relax as i listened to his soothing voice mindlessly talking about nonsense shit that came to his head.

without realizing, mingi was then gently lifting me out of the water and wrapping a towel around me before sitting down on the bed and we just sat there together.

i opened my eyes and looked up at him with heat rising to my face.

“i’m sorry.” i said with a weak smile.

“don’t apologize for nothing. you didn’t do anything bad, you’re okay, baby. we’re okay.” mingi reassured me.

i breathed out a deep breath before nodding and saying what mingi tells me to say every time i’m having a hard time, “i’m making progress everyday, so it’s all going to be okay.”

author’s note: i just wanted to add this note at the end because i know not many people will be able to relate to this or maybe there will people who will, but i personally struggle with anxiety and this imagine was inspired by personal experience. this exact scenario never actually happened to me personally, but it’s similar to the other scenarios i’ve had where i would wake up first thing in the morning and have an anxiety attack because my mind would be too overactive. anxiety is different for everyone and there are different things that could set someone off. please take the time to look out for others who are around you and make sure they always feel safe and secure at all times. if you suffer from anxiety as well, remember that, yes, things will be difficult to handle at this moment in time, but it’s not forever. you’re making progress everyday and you have someone thinking about you and feeling so proud of you for getting through another day no matter how hard and difficult it was for you to get through it. you’re wonderful, lets keep moving forward together, okay?

[talk1about7seventeen]

ღ Saw You In A Dream ღ

Summary: Virgil keeps dreaming about a mysterious boy he has yet to meet. Turns out it’s his soulmate. 

Warning: Mild cursing, anxious Virgil, happy Patton, sleep Janus, chaotic Remus, low self esteem, mentions of caffeine, mentions of sex. 

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Janus, and Remus.

Word Count: 1969

Ship/ Pairing: Janus x Remus (Dukeceit - Romantic.) Virgil x Patton (Moxiety - Romantic.)

AU: Human: You dream about your soulmate until you meet them in person/ realize who they are.

Song Inspiration: Saw You In A Dream - The Japanese House

I hope you enjoy! ☆=(ゝω･)

---

“Hey, don’t worry Virgil! Maybe I’ll see you around or something, if you’d like I could---”

The alarm rang at the worst possible time waking Virgil up from the angelic voice of the boy he couldn’t ever quite remember the face of. His voice however, he couldn’t forget it. Smooth like buttermilk and warm like a Summer’s day. Virgil didn’t recall it exactly, but he was certain he had a gorgeous smile. Anyone who treated him so.....nicely....must. 

Pushing his bangs out of his face, he sat up and pulled on his purple stitched jacket which laid on top of his messy bed. One of his pillows was hanging off the side of his bed and his favorite stuffie laid lonely on the floor. His anxiety spiked as he saw his comfort item left there untouched. Quickly, he scooped the old teddy bear from the creaky wooden floor boards and sat him on the innermost corner of the bed on the remaining pillow that touched the mauve walls. 

The alarm on his phone blared on, seemingly getting louder and louder as each precious second passed by. Virgil turned, shoulders rising parallel to his jawline. “Too....early....for this...” He groaned, slamming his finger on the button to turn off the ungodly noise. In the atmosphere now drifted silence. Virgil let out a sigh and began to gather his things for the day.

“Not so fast, emo boy!” Remus grabbed the back of the boy’s shirt as he tried to pass by the kitchen. “Ugh, put me down you neon disaster.” Virgil fought back, swatting the air around him, attempting to hit the taller being behind him. He could never move fast enough to catch Remus though. “Boys,” A voice called out from down the hall. They both turned, Remus’ wide eyed with Virgil still in his rather strong grip. Janus, their other roommate sauntered out of the darkness into the small glow of the kitchen light with it’s faint green hues. Janus pressed a mug to his lips and took a long gulp of his cold coffee. “If you’re going to kill each other, keep the house and I out of it.” He motioned to the counter and placed the cup into the microwave. 

“Up late again, Snakey?” Remus dropped Virgil and walked up behind Janus, wrapping his arms around the even taller boy’s waist. “When am I not...?” Virgil looked away as they chatted, intertwined with each other like two pieces of red string that connected at the fingertips. This was no real surprise for him, he was use to seeing the two so affectionate. That’s how it always was when you found your soulmate....

Virgil couldn’t really understand how. Maybe it was his lack of experience with romance, or maybe he just refused to believe in something that he was convinced would never apply to him. Love....now that was something he could laugh at. Who on Earth could love him? Besides Janus and that dumpster fire of a person he was tied to, no one else really stuck with him. He was convinced it was how easily he could push other people away or his unfriendly nature. No matter which one it was exactly, the only thing close to love he would ever get was inanimate objects that never spoke back and those two drooling all over each other. The love that he did get, wasn’t the kind he was searching for. Virgil appreciated what he got immensely, without Janus and Remus, he probably would feel more alone than he already does. But they didn’t look at him how they looked at each other; no one looked at him that way. 

“I should head out.” Virgil announced as Janus pulled his warmed up coffee cup out of the kitchen appliance and set it back down in front of him. “See ya!” Remus stuck out his tongue to Virgil and went back to embracing his lover. “Stay safe.” Janus told him without looking up, exhaustion closing in on him similarly like how one would imagine Remus’ embraces to be like; noticeable and slightly aggressive. 

 Leaving the house, he popped in his headphones and pressed shuffle on his Spotify playlist named: Drowning out the fucking from the next room. This playlist included and not limiting to, Evanescence, Fall Out Boy, and MCR (Obviously.) Why he made this playlist started off as a joke and then transformed into him successfully being able to block out even the most unholy sounds, like people talking to him, or Remus being Remus. 

As he walked down the street with his hood up, the words of the mystery boy played in his head. Who was he? Why was he so often in his dreams? Maybe it was pure coincidence. That he was so low that his brain felt the need to create a love interest out of thin air for the lonely boy. Wouldn’t that be something? Ridiculous....Virgil thought to himself. On autopilot, he went through the motions of walking up to his local coffee shop and ordering something for Remus, Janus, and himself. The barista who knew him by face at this point asked him what he wanted. He answered the same most every time, only occasionally switching up the order. It was easy to stick with what he knew, and it never disappointed, not when it’s a hot cup of coffee with caffeine you could practically taste just from the scent. 

“Have a great day, sir!” She smiled handing Virgil his hot coffee as well as a baked good for Janus and an espresso drink for Remus. Not that the borderline chaotic evil idiot needed so much coffee, because he surely did not. But Virgil would rather just go along with it to avoid conflict. “You too.” Virgil tried to push a smile since she was always nice to him. As Virgil began to walk out the door, he noticed the sky was particularly blue today. I’ll take a little detour...He thought to himself, nodding once.

Passing Virgil by were children with parents smiling and giggling as the warm breeze blew through their hair, people walking their dogs, and teens making their way to the skate park which was about a ten minute walk from where he was. The buildings lined in a row opened up to a park with a large water fountain in the midst of the area. Why not..He shrugged making his way into the park. Butterflies fluttered and children’s laughter could be heard. The overall feeling of this place gave Virgil a feeling of contentment that he hadn’t felt in some time. Breathing in and out, he took advantage of this feel-good opportunity. He sat down on a nearby bench, leaning until his spine touched the back of the seat. “Excuse me?” Virgil’s eyes shot open and he pulled the earbuds out of his ears. In front of him was a golden haired boy with freckles planted on his cheeks and nose. 

Virgil felt his chest began to explode with so many emotions. “Oh! Did I disrupt you? My bad!” He apologized. The boy’s voice was so recognizable but for some reason, Virgil couldn’t figure out exactly where from. It hurt his brain as he fished for answers but came up empty handed. “No! It’s uh....it’s okay...” Virgil’s voice quieted as he began to speak on. The boy gave a wide smile. “I just wanted to say I really like your hoodie. I’m Patton.” He held out a hand. “Thanks,” He swallowed a lump in his throat as he looked at Patton, now feeling a new kind of anxious. “I’m Virgil.” Patton shook his hand gently. “Did you make it yourself?” Virgil looked down at his purple and black stitched hoodie. “Yea, I did.” Patton’s face lit up. “That’s so cool!” 

“I hope this isn’t too weird but, do I know you from somewhere?” Virgil couldn’t seem to place the familiar feeling he felt when looking at Patton. It was like being engulfed in your childhood blanket for the first time in years. It felt....right...

“Uh, I don’t know but, I was thinking the same thing.” Patton pressed a finger to his lip and pondered for a moment. They stood there for a moment, their surroundings making up for the lack of words. The boy in front of him brushed it off with a shrug and looked back into Virgil’s eyes. “Well, anyhow, I should probably be on my way.” Patton giggled. Virgil felt his heart sink into his stomach. The golden haired boy placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, looking into his eyes as if he could read how the dark boy felt. 

“Hey, don’t worry Virgil! Maybe I’ll see you around or something, if you’d like I could give you my phone number!” Virgil nearly spit out his coffee at the words he said. “What did you say!?” He exclaimed. As Patton repeated his words, he covered his mouth instantly. Everything in that moment clicked. The boy’s smile, his gentle and kind demeanor, he was Virgil’s dream boy....

How did this simultaneously make so much sense, but also not at all? What would he say? What could he say? Was there any real approach that wouldn’t make him look like an idiot? “Do you believe in soulmates, Patton?” He asked breathless. Shock ran through Patton. “You....” Patton tried to speak. “I think....” They both stared at each other for a long moment, taking in the awe and wonder that had for each other. In that moment, they were no longer strangers, but a story yet to be written. “Patton, I think you’re my soulmate.” The boy’s eyes widened and then softened as his lips curled up into such a dazzling smile. He pulled out a blue colored sharpie from his bag. “May I?” He pointed to the coffee cup. “Oh!” He handed it to him and Patton began to write something on the white part of the cup. He handed it back a very star struck Virgil. “Please call me.” After that he gave a little wave and left, disappearing behind the water fountain and out of sight completely.

Virgil sat there, brain full of questions racing at a million miles an hour. I need to get home. Without wasting anymore time, he quickly made his way home, practically running. “Welcome back, Vi---” Janus tried to say but stopped as he took a glance at the expression on his good friend’s face as he walked through the door. “I think I just met my soulmate.” 

“Well, God damn, My Little Paranoid!” Remus answered. “He gave me his number and---” Remus cut him off. “GO CALL HIM NOW!” His voice boomed in he small house. “Remus, give him a bit he’s probably overwhelmed.” Janus turned from the couch, looking over the side at Virgil. “How do you feel, Virgie?” He asked. “I---I think I forgot how to breathe.” Virgil stared at his own shaking hands. “HAHAHAHAHAHAH!” Remus cackled. He ran up to the shaken boy and took the drink and baked good for Janus. “Try to calm down and when you’re ready, go call him.” Janus eyed Remus, emphasizing his words. Remus began to chug his drink. “What?” He asked after a large gulp. “Okay! Thank you!” Virgil ran up stairs into his room. 

Jumping onto the bed he examined the cup and very slowly punched the numbers in. He stared at his phone for a minute. Is this really happening? Or is this just a dream I’m living in? Virgil shook his head. “I’m gonna do it...” He with great hesitation pressed the call button, the ringing making him jump. It rang once, then twice, and finally....click!

“Hello?” Patton asked, cheery like a Summer’s day.

“Hey.”

[prrplwtch]

Do you have any hcs for the brothers seeing MC with hickeys, but it's not from them? I thought it would be pretty ~spicy~, thank you so much!

Hi nonnie :) Sound like fun 💜For the purposes of these hedacanons, I’m assuming that MC doesn’t kiss and tell - aka the brothers don’t know who the “perpetrator” of hickeys is. And writing these headcanons got even me curious about who MC’s lover is lmao

Lucifer:

Lucifer notices it accidentally - when MC reaches over to hand him some papers, the collar of her blouse moves ever so slightly, revealing a deep red mark just under her collarbone. He knows it is a love bite as soon as he sees it. 

Suddenly finds himself overcome with two emotions - anger & jealousy. Anger at whoever put this on her, and jealousy because he wants to be the one to do it. 

It takes a moment for him to calm and compose himself, and he hopes that MC did not notice his reaction. 

Likely would not mention anything to her directly, although might put in a comment warning her against “indulging in behavior not-befitting a person participating in an exchange program.” 

Will do his best to keep his eye on her - he simply must know who it is that she’d been involved with. 

Might try to keep her in the House of Lamentations more - through chores assignments in the like. 

If she’s not out and about she won’t be able to...Unless, of course whoever did that is one of his brothers.

Will not stop in his attempts to find out who the person who left hickeys on MC is - even though logically he understands that it’s a waste of time, jealousy still drives him forward. 

Lucifer will also likely distance himself from MC - he does not like the fact that a human is having such an impact on him at all. 

Mammon:

If it was in a less obvious place, Mammon likely would not have noticed, but one day, when he comes to see MC in her room, she’s wearing a pretty low-cut t-shirt and there are a few deep red marks on the side of her neck, just under her jaw. 

“MC, have you been h-...” Oh. Oh no. 

Is immediately a mess from being overcome with jealousy - he knows those are love bites. WHO THE HELL DID THIS? 

Will likely leave MC’s room and then avoid her for a while. On the one hand he wants to be close to her, of course, but on the other hand, he cannot handle the thought that someone else had been with her in the way that he’d only dreamed of. 

Mammon will get really sad - it is his human after all and whoever the other person was was trying to take away from him something that he held so dear. 

Might try to find out who it is MC is seeing/sleeping with, however, after his attempts turn out to be unsuccessful, will stop avoiding MC in the hopes that spending time with her will point him to the identity of the “perpetrator.”

He’d already been seeing quite a few...explicit dreams about MC, but his brain’s new favorite seems to be the dream, where he’s the one leaving hickeys all over MC’s body. 

Is really torn - on one hand, spending time with MC knowing that she’s sleeping with someone else is bitter beyond imagining, but, on the other, being without her is worse.

Might try to get his brothers to help him find out who MC’s secret lover is, until it occurs to him that it might be one of them.

Leviathan: 

Levi would have ignored the bright red mark that he saw at the base of MC’s neck, if he did not just watch an anime, where one of the characters had a love bite in exact same spot, that looked just like that.

Immediately cue feeling of intense jealousy - MC was doing that with someone?

Will likely want to be as far away from MC as possible, since, looking at her, all he can think of is her being in someone else’s embrace, and the ver image hurts. 

After initial wave of jealousy subsides ever so slightly, the low self-esteem comes out. And what did I expect, that she’d be with me, of all people? Who’d ever want to be with a yucky otaku like me?

Unlike his other brothers, Levi does not actually want to think about who the object of MC’s affections is - the thought of her with someone else already hurts plenty, and if he knew who that was...

Will be spending even more time in his room than he already is, in an attempt to avoid MC. Yes, he’s never made his feelings for MC clear, but MC should have known!

Levi will focus on his hobbies in order to get over the pain - anime/dating sim/etc. After all, 2D girls don’t disappoint, and they don’t act all nice around you and then go and get involved with someone else. 

Gets very sad over the whole ordeal, to the extent that it even worries his brothers, though he does not want to talk to them all that much either - during the hours he’d spent agonizing over who MC’s lover might be, it had occurred to him that it’s possible it was one of his brothers. 

Levi will definitely breathe a sigh of relief when MC leaves the Devildom.

Satan:

Satan, MC and Asmo are in the demonology classroom, trying to get a headstart on the homework. As MC shifts in her chair, pulling one of her legs under her, Satan suddenly notices two deep red bruises on the inner side of her thigh, just under the hem of her skirt. Was she hurt?

“Ooh, looks like someone’s been having fun,” Asmo whispers to him. “What?” Satan asks, confused. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t know those are lovebites,” Asmo says, “And in such a delicate place too...”

Bright blush spreads across Satan’s cheeks once he understands, and a searing hot rage rises in his chest. Someone was doing what with MC?

He tries to reason with himself, of course, tries telling himself that it’s illogical to feel that way - after all, MC did not know he liked her, and, even if she did, who would ever love him back? - but he cannot help the way he feels. 

Doesn’t like how jealous he feels, yet, at the same time, cannot help but wish that it was he who was marking MC’s skin with love bites. 

Will likely want to know who it was that MC was seeing - he’ll tell himself, of course that it’s only because he’s worried for MC’s safety, but, in truth, his insecurities definitely play a role in him wanting to find out who MC’s lover is. He hopes it’s not Lucifer. 

At the same time, will likely pull away from MC. Since Satan’s realized that he’s in love with her, it is quite hard for him to be around her knowing, that she’s involved - romantically or sexually with someone else. Luckily for him, he’s mastered calm, indifferent demeanor a long time ago, so it would not be that hard to pretend that he does not care. Oh, but he cares so much. 

Likely won’t try to enlist help of his brothers in trying to find out who MC’s lover is because he knows it’s entirely possible that it’s one of them. 

Probably will try to go low contact with MC until she leaves the Devildom. 

Asmodeus:

When Asmo sees the two bright red marks on the inner side of MC’s thigh, just under the hem of her skirt, he knows exactly what it is. 

Unlike his other brothers, he’s much more likely to approach her about it and ask who she’s been having fun with. Like his other brothers, he’ll be quite disappointed when he does not get any information out of her. 

Still, he’s rather curious, so he’ll try to find out by himself, who it is that MC was having...encounters with. After all, if it was someone hot, perhaps, the three of them can have some fun together. 

Might enlist help of some of his brothers to help him look into this situation.

But, seeing how guarded MC is with the information, and the fact that his investigation does not seem to yield him any information, Asmo gets quite sad. 

He’d been hoping that MC loved liked him back, just like he loved liked her, but, from the way she acted about this, it seemed that it was not the case. That she’d already picked someone else despite the fact that Asmo’s heart belonged to her. 

That sadness would likely drive him to up his promiscuous behavior - after all, what’s better to soothe the pain of rejection than the embraces of others. As it turns out, however, no amount of one night stands can quite cure the hurt of a broken heart. 

Asmo likely won’t avoid MC, because that’s not the kind of person he is, but he’ll definitely be much colder with her than usually. 

Also would not give up attempts to hit on MC, especially when drunk, because there is still hope in him that she might change her mind and see that he’s better for her than whoever her lover is. 

Beelzebub:

Beel, Belphie and MC are in the living room of the house of lamentation, doing some decorations for the Devildom holidays. As MC reaches up to hang a garland over the fireplace, her t-shirt rides up, and Beel can see a few red marks on her lower stomach. 

“It looks like MC has been hurt,” he tells Belphie, who glances over as well. “Don’t be naive,” Belphie tells him, “Those are love bites.”

Beel knows, of course, what that is, but somehow in his head, it’s quite strange to see MC covered in them. 

There is an unfamiliar sensation in the pit of his stomach, like hunger, but much much worse. It scares him. 

He doesn’t think he’s upset by the fact that MC’s taken a lover - he has no right to be, after all - and he wishes her only happiness, and still...He cannot help but feel sad over the fact that she seems to be involved with someone else. When he loves her this much... But then again, what good can my love do for her?

Unlike some of his other brothers, he will not avoid MC - he likes spending time with her and really appreciates her friendship and company, so he’ll stay by her side. Even if it hurts immensely to know that she is with someone else. 

Might try to find out who MC’s lover is, and, if he decides to do it, will likely ask Belphie for help. Belphie would really rather not participate in this, but he cannot refuse Beel. 

Overall, not much will change in his relationship with MC, at least on the surface. But on the inside Beel would feel sad and empty - and might overindulge in his sin in order to get over the feeling of emptiness. 

When MC leaves, however, unlike some of his brothers, he would not feel relieved, just sad - because even if she did not love him, he did really love her. 

Belphegor:

The second Belphie sees the deep red marks on MC’s lower stomach, as he t-shirt rides up ever so slightly - he knows what they are. 

He also knows that he should not care - after all MC’s just someone he knew for a few short month - and he hasn’t even told her about his feelings - and yet the fact that she’s taken a lover burns more than he could have anticipated. 

Belphie’s likely to try and maintain his indifferent demeanor, but at the same time he’ll pull away from MC, because of the way this whole situation affects him. 

A part of him is curious, of course, who that lover is. He hopes it’s not someone he hates, like Lucifer or Diavolo because the thought of them happy with MC fills him with rage. 

Might try to find out who this mysterious “lover” is, although likely will give up on trying if the first few attempts do not succeed. 

Belphie’s likely to start spending even more time in the attic because it’s much easier to avoid MC that way. Will likely spend less time in his room because Beel would still want to hang out with MC despite the fact that she’d taken a lover. 

Will have issues with sleep because his brain will take quite a pleasure in torturing him with images of MC in the embrace of Lucifer or Diavolo. 

Whenever MC tries to talk to him, will act dismissive and indifferent - after all, she does not seem to like him back, so what’s the point in all of this. 

Belphie’s really looking for the exchange program to be over, because, as time passes, it’s harder and harder to maintain an indifferent demeanor and pretend that he does not care the MC’s involved with someone else.

HC list

[intrulogical]

Spirals

author’s note: oh literally this is the worst. who knew the first fic without logan would've been a nightmare to make. i just really wanted to establish a secure dynamic between janus and remus, make some junji ito references, and move on, honestly. i just want to get to the fanfiction where they play poker and argue with the light sides, ya'know? but still, i guess i had to make *this* fanfiction. think of it as the halloween episode in sanders sides.

this fic literally cannot be read as a standalone so, for the love of all things good, please read the other fics in the series to understand what the fuck is going on! because this fic is sure as hell messy so reading it by itself won't even make sense lmao

like always, thank you to the logang discord for support! big thanks especially to kei, orb, and ellie for beta reading!

pairings: Platonic Remus & Janus, Mentions of Romantic Remus/Logan, Mentions of Past Remus/Janus

warnings:  remus angst, critical light sides, light sides negativity, swearing, remus-typical content, mentions of nsfw, weird horror-inspired creatures, slight self-esteem issues, just remus being sad :(

word count: 5502

summary: Remus sighed. It didn’t matter, he supposed. As long as the buzz from the lake distracted his thoughts and the hypnotizing spirals in the sky continued to drift, it would all be fine.

Spirals, spirals, spirals. Just like how he was spiralling right now. He chuckled at himself for the stupid connection; Logan really got him used to doing pointless word association games.

Word association games. Logan. His lover, boyfriend, partner, whatever.

Remus raised his arms to rub his tired face. The soaked sleeves of his hoodie dripped the water unto his cheeks. He really did not want to think about Logan and the possibility of him becoming a--

He splashed his arms back onto the water furiously as he furrowed his lip.

or,

Remus has some conflicting thoughts about Logan becoming a "Dark" Side, has a different unidentifiable problem, and swims around in his Junji Ito-inspired creation. Janus, on the other hand, has to convince him to take a break.

(ao3 link)

There was a buzzing, staticky sensation that tickled Remus’s neck and legs as he floated atop the Dragonfly Pond. The lake itself, admittedly, was highly unrealistic as Remus hadn’t perfected every single aspect of his copy of Uzumaki’s horrific town of Kurozu-Cho, but Remus enjoyed traversing through the ghastly lake nonetheless. The odd buzz that fizzled against his skin felt weirdly satisfying and mind-numbing, allowing the irksome, overwhelming thoughts in his head to evaporate slightly. 

Remus understood that he should’ve been tucked in his bed by now, falling asleep to eccentric Jack Stauber songs as he hugged the gigantic octopus plushie Logan had given to him on his birthday. There was a persistent burn in his eyes that only worsened as time passed by and his muscles ached so terribly to the point of cramping. His eyes were practically blurring after a few seconds of gazing at the sky, and he swore he felt frost nipping at the ends of his fingers and toes. Yet here he was, paddling himself across the lake using his feet as his hoodie became soggier by the second, ignoring every logical thought that screamed at him to go to bed.

Junji Ito’s works were always a source of unexpected comfort for Remus. Remus recognized it was probably suspicious that he felt at ease while reading mangas about demonic, gut-wrenching monsters, but as an avid fan of the cosmic horror genre, he was only exhilarated by the detailed yet unsettling drawings. 

This was the reason why he made replicas of those mangas in his side of the Imagination. Many of his landscapes were dedicated to the fascinating monsters Ito was able to create. Sometimes, Remus’s ambitiousness took over and prompted him to create entire cities and towns with clueless civilians that inhabited the horrific establishments. Remus just liked to go wild and have fun, y’know? Amp the scare factor up to a hundred. 

(He also took pleasure in witnessing Roman’s fearful face whenever one of his creatures trespassed his land. The occasion was rare but when it happened, Remus merely laughed at Roman devilishly.)

Remus breathed out deeply. The skies above were littered with spirals, each thick cloud hypnotically whorling as it passed by. The wind was also visible, each breeze being represented with curls and scrolls. The night slightly resembled Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” but in monochromatic colors, making the sky appear to be a more depressing clone of the painting. 

Additionally, surrounding the lake were an abundant amount of trees, each of their leaves curling at the corners. Sometimes, the trees would give into this spiral disease and coil up on itself like a centipede that was just stepped on. Some peculiar creatures also hid within the helical greenery, all of them taking a peek at Remus from time to time. Remus only recalled witnessing boulder-sized snails and a stretched out human-snake hybrid traversing through their forest for today, but Remus didn’t expect any of his creations to be any real threats to him. 

If Remus was being honest, he had expected more creatures to appear. Usually, some of the  ghosts that inhabited the lake would arise and stalk Remus creepily but they didn’t even come out to play. The tornado siren that usually resonated daily didn’t alarm either, and there were no ear-piercing shrieks and terrified screams he could hear from a distance. Despite his environment still being undeniably terrifying, it was still pretty tame compared to Remus’s past visits.

Remus sighed. It didn’t matter, he supposed. As long as the buzz from the lake distracted his thoughts and the hypnotizing spirals in the sky continued to drift, it would all be fine.

Spirals, spirals, spirals. Just like how he was spiralling right now. He chuckled at himself for the stupid connection; Logan really got him used to doing pointless word association games.

Word association games. Logan. His lover, boyfriend, partner, whatever. 

Remus raised his arms to rub his tired face. The soaked sleeves of his hoodie dripped the water unto his cheeks. He really did not want to think about Logan and the possibility of him becoming a—

He splashed his arms back onto the water furiously as he furrowed his lip. 

Remus was never one to anxiously overthink a problem. More than anything, he caused problems and issues, purposely terrorizing the others just because he enjoyed it. There was never a moment in his life he felt overwhelmed by an issue, especially when he was only partially involved. But this— this was different. The entire atmosphere of the Mindscape can shift, relationships can absolutely be tarnished and destroyed, and he didn’t even know how this issue could directly affect Thomas.

Remus sighed— this was a mess. A complete utter disastrous mess. 

“Remus?” a voice called from afar. Remus’s eyes widened as he recognized its owner. “Remus, do you know how long it took to fucking find you?” they continued, sounding obviously aggravated.

“Jannie? You came to find me?” Remus hollered back, flipping over so he remained standing upright in the lake. There in the distance stood Janus whose hair looked incredibly dishevelled as his cape was almost in tatters.

“Of course, you cretin. You haven’t been in your room since four and didn’t even come to eat dinner.” Janus told him, clearly upset. Remus only blinked at him in surprise. Janus sighed, “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that you’ve been, er, floating about for ten hours straight?”

Remus shrugged mindlessly, only causing Janus to furrow his eyebrows. “What? Ten hours isn’t a big deal.”

“Remus.” Janus said scoldingly, holding a disappointed yet concerned gaze. “Have you eaten at all?” 

“Been meaning to try the human-sized snails crawling around town. Did you know snails are rich in protein? Logan explained that some researcher in Africa or something discovered that eating snails could—”

“Again, have you eaten?” Janus interrupted. 

“Does swallowing lake water count?” Remus asked.

“If you swim out of there, I’ll lend you some cake B made a while ago.” Janus said monotonically, and Remus quickly perked up. 

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place, double dicks?” Remus said with a grin. Instead of swimming out of the lake, he snapped his fingers and teleported himself to the empty spot next to Janus. Janus’s face remained stoic and unmoving at Remus’s unkemptness and wet clothes as Remus simply grinned at him maniacally, clearly excited to be given the dessert.

After sighing, Janus grabbed a tupperware hidden beneath his cloak. How it was held securely in the cloak was a mystery, but he still handed the cake to Remus. “It’s red velvet, since he wanted to cheer you up.”

“Cheer me up?” Remus said while removing the tupperware’s lid, “He’s been apologetic about his outburst for what, two weeks, three weeks now? I mean, I guess it’s okay to be a greedy bitch when the opportunity is right there, but I still feel spoiled. Spoiled like… food.” Janus eyed him weirdly, “Like that milk carton that we abandoned in our fridge for ten months… uhm…”

“Seems like your creative juices are running low.” Janus told him as Remus shoved half of the cake into his mouth, “Firstly, we both know B is just like that, and secondly, this cake wasn’t something he made to add to his apology streak— he’s worried for you.”

Remus scoffed, “Worried? Why should he be—”

“Remus, your room is in disarray.” Janus told him with a concerned tone as the corners of his lips tilted downwards, “We’re not going to tiptoe around the issue here, Remus. He said you left a conversation with Logan frowning and the voices in your room suddenly intensified. I’m— we’re worried for you.”

Remus averted his gaze from Janus, chewing on the cake silently and shamefully as he watched the achromatic trees dance in sync to the breeze. Even while looking away, he can sense Janus’s heavy, unfiltered concern, staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, thinned lips, and nostrils slightly flared. 

Even if Remus was fully aware that he could trust Janus and B wholeheartedly, Remus was still undoubtedly hesitant to confess what bothersome thoughts were floating around his head. Whenever Remus needed to ramble on about some stupid dilemma he had to Janus, he was always certain about the complexity of the problem and what it entailed. Pinpointing what his current issues were to Janus was usually not too difficult to do, but somehow, this was different.

His problem felt… convoluted. More complex than he needed it to be. There were a million rampaging thoughts in his head that couldn’t stop reminding him of different problems he couldn’t tackle all at once. Typically, he can find one problem that stood out amongst the rest, but presently, every identifiable problem seemed to be equally as dreadful as each other, leaving Remus incredibly perplexed. Being unable to pinpoint his main issue was further adding on to the multitude of problems he already had to deal with, and he was unsure of how he was going to explain all this chaos that was within his mind.

Remus felt his right arm being nudged. “Remus?” Janus spoke, causing  Remus blinked thrice, not realizing he went quiet for a few minutes.

“Sorry,” replied Remus with a forced grin, shoving another piece of the cake into his mouth. The worry on Janus’s face manifested a feeling of guilt within Remus, gradually making him feel sorry that Janus had to put up with his patheticness. 

“Remus, what time did you sleep last night?” Asked Janus, causing Remus to fiddle nervously with the skin around his fingernails. God, Remus regretted not bringing any sort of fidget toy or object for him to utilize— Logan’s going to scold him for this. “Actually, wrong question— it’s quite obvious that you didn’t sleep last night—”

“Don’t assume, Sweeney Fraud.” 

Janus quirked an eyebrow, “Oh? Then, when did you sleep, my dear Mrs. Lovett?” Janus said confidently, fidgeting with his gloves as he did. Remus made a disgruntled expression, rolling his eyes at the question. He guessed there was no avoiding it now.

“I’m not good at math, but probably seventy to seventy-eight hours ago? Uhm. That’s three days, right?” 

Janus placed his hand softly on the ground beneath him, “Remus, you couldn’t have possibly been awake for more than three days—”

“At least it wasn’t four whole days.”

“Remus,” Janus scolded him once more. Hearing Janus utter his name once more made him unexpectedly tense.

“What, seventy-eight hours is nothing compared to when we fucked for—”

Janus visibly grimaced, fists slowly clenching, “Ssssstop that,” he hissed, earning an entertained chuckle from Remus. “I don’t want to remember that— that phase we had.” he added, obviously flustered. 

“But ah, that phase we had was just wonderful!” Remus exclaimed, doing a chef’s kiss. Janus’s hands flew to grip his hat and simply pulled it closer to his face, “Thomas’s teenage years were marvelously filled with hormone-induced fantasies and—”

“Remusssss—”

“God, we were such horny children back then, even if it only lasted for a week—”

“Remus!” Janus roared, looking excessively embarrassed at Remus, “I am not proud of the— the activities we did back then so can you please do me a favor and forget about that entire week—”

“Jannie, you already know that I bring this up annually just to piss you off.” Remus said with a smirk, “I mean, look at you— all crimson and flushed like when I—”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Janus yelled, “You’re insufferable.”

“And so I’ve heard,” Remus replied, grinning widely.

“All I wanted was to help you with your damn problems and all I get greeted with is a reminder of our horrid sex life when we were teenagers, thanks a lot.” Janus murmured, hands still clenching his hat in humiliation. Meanwhile, Remus’ grin faltered a bit upon realizing that right, they still had his problems to discuss.

“That’s what friends are for,” Remus replied, trying to mask his worry by winking at Janus enthusiastically. Janus merely rolled  his eyes exasperatedly as a reply. “And I can handle my problems fine, J-anus. Just let me sulk here for another few hours, maybe I’ll duel one of those weird pregnant mosquito vampire creatures I’ve made—”

“—the what—?”

“—And maybe fall asleep around three or four? It’ll pass by then. I think. I dunno.” Remus finished with a nonchalant tone only to raise Janus’s suspicion. Remus froze at the sight of his disbelieving face— there was no chance in hell Remus would be able to lie in front of Janus, huh?

“‘You never pass the opportunity to vent when I ask you to.” Janus told him, consequently making Remus tilt his head in confusion. Janus sighed, “Well, I know you usually change the subject when I first bring it up, but upon the second or third request, you eventually do begin venting. What’s different about now?”

Remus was surprised that Janus had observed a pattern in their talks but was still unexplainably reluctant to share what was on his mind now. It would’ve been easier if he had Logan to talk to—he just made everything much easier, Remus didn’t know how that even worked—but Logan was involved with the issue and it just heightened his uneasiness even more.

“I— well,” Remus spoke, internally cringing at himself for the awful start, “God, I’ve been doing a lot of venting lately, is that even normal?”

“Better than duelling some pregnant vampire thingies or whatever the fuck you said earlier,” Janus replied, earning a half-smile from Remus.

“But I heard they put up a good fight, Jannie! Like, the townsfolk are saying they use drills as weapons while also having an insatiable thirst for blood—”

“Getting a little off-track here.”

“Ah— sorry.” Remus gave him an apologetic smile, “I’m just… very confused? Or anxious. Thoughts just swarm around my head like bees in a beehive and all of them keep buzzing,” Remus explained nervously. The tupperware and cake has long been abandoned as he continued to peel the skin around his fingernails instead, “And, uh, I don’t know where to start?”

“So you don’t know what’s bothering you?”

“Well, yes. And no.” Remus replied as he accidentally picked the skin around his thumb too harshly, causing a small trickle of blood to appear. Janus noticed this immediately, reaching out to pull Remus’s right hand away from his left.

“Don’t do that,” Janus instructed, causing Remus to huff at him agitatedly. Janus then sighed and unbuttoned his ruined cloak, handing it to Remus, “Some of your creatures clawed at the edges so you can play with the holes and loose threads instead if it means you’ll stop picking on your skin.” Janus explained, and Remus was about to protest until Janus continued, “I have more cloaks in my room, so destroy this one all you like.”

Remus gratefully accepted the cloak, following Janus’s suggestion and playing with the loose seams. “Thank you, uh,” Remus continued his tangent as he nervously pulled and plucked the strings, “Back to the thing— I kind of know what’s bothering me. Ish. Sorta kinda. Right now, I can probably identify ten— no, fifteen— or maybe twenty thoughts floating around that I could label as something contributing to my stupid dilemma.”

“But?”

“But I feel like there’s something I’m missing. A bigger problem I can’t seem to pinpoint— like that one episode Thomas made with the puppets! Er… I don’t know why I keep bringing up that one episode lately when honestly, it was such a terrible episode—“

“The Halloween one was worse, in my humble opinion.”

“Point taken. We could’ve made that episode ten times better, y’know? I feel offended they tried to make a scary episode without inviting us! If they really wanted to discuss Thomas’s embarrassing phases, we are quite the experts—“

“We’re getting off-topic again.”

“Fuck, sorry,” Remus said apologetically, “Where were we— oh right, the stupid bigger problem thing.” Remus huffed tiredly, “I feel so fucking bothered that I don’t know what’s bothering me which is making me even more bothered and more bothered and it’s just a fucking loop! A terrible cycle. A bothering one. Did I mention I’m so fucking bothered?”

“Then lay it on me.” Janus told him, and Remus tilted his head at him, slightly perplexed, “What I mean is— if we can’t identify the bigger problem at hand, then you can at least tell me about the problems you can identify. Maybe we can piece together what we’re missing here.”

“I swear to Jesus Christ that this is beginning to look like that puppet episode.”

“What’s your obsession with that damn puppet episode? We weren’t even in it.”

“I dunno, to be honest. I just like to shit on it a lot. Like, look at me, I have the same problems Thomas is having, yet I’m still villainized, for some goddamn reason. Maybe it’s the mustache? It’s gotta be the mustache.” Remus twirled the edges of his curled mustache as Janus merely shrugged.

“To be fair, you had a very violent introduction.”

“You know what? True. Probably should’ve gone with my ‘Breaking Through the Window’ plan—“ Janus opened his mouth, most likely about to interrupt Remus, but Remus immediately butted in first before he can be scolded again, “Yea, yea, I know, go back on topic, yadda yadda yadda.”

“I’m here to listen, so feel free to spill whatever you want to spill.” Janus replied, looking at Remus intently. Before Remus could express his lengthy spiel, he successfully ripped a certain portion of the cloak he was fiddling with. Sighing, he lowered the cloak, and gazed back at Janus. Janus was patiently waiting for him, and despite looking exhausted, Remus knew he was still going to listen. God, what did he do to deserve Janus?

“Well…” Remus started anxiously, twirling one of the loose threads between his fingers, “I already told you about the entire Logan ordeal.”

“Him becoming a—what’d they call it again—a ‘Dark’ Side?”

“Yep.” Remus affirmed, face scrunched up in discomfort, “Y’know like, I thought I’d be excited to see him here, but after much thought—which is funny since most of the time, I don’t overthink things—but anyway, after much thought, I just feel… dreadful. Like, this shit ain’t just Logan coming over here to visit. This has permanent consequences I didn’t even consider until now. I don’t even know how the other sides will react or— or if this’ll damage Thomas in any way.

“I know that Thomas would still be able to function— it isn’t like Logan is actually going to fade away or disappear. He’ll just be… neglected more. Gosh, his neglect is all my fault, isn’t it? I mean, I know that I should technically blame Thomas and the other sides for Logan’s gradual descent into becoming one of us, but maybe I should take part in the blame too since it’s my fault that he’s brought down here a lot. Maybe I— maybe I badly influenced him? Maybe his own problems and insecurities were created because of how much time he’s spent with me—”

“Now that’s—”

“Me, overthinking? Probably. But Logan is important to Thomas, he needs to be up there to be able to help Thomas the most. Maybe bringing him down here was a mistake on my part because now he’s just so willing to give up his position as a ‘Light’ Side. The other sides will condemn him, hurt him even more, villainize him like how I’ve been villainized. Logan’s going to get fuckin’ hurt because of my ass and I just, what, blindly allowed it to happen for the past few months? And now it’s too late to back out because, at any moment, he’s going to join us and all chaos will break loose.

“What if… what if him becoming part of our family is going to erupt a bigass fight between Logan and the others? Believe me, I’d love to see Logan go feral and slap the shit out of Patton, but I’m… scared? And it’s weird— I’m never really scared of anything. But I’m scared that there'll be a bigger divide between the ‘Light’ and ‘Dark’ Sides because of… well, me. And I know not everything is entirely my fault, but it’s still partially my fault, so I still feel so fucking terrible. 

“And speaking of more problems that are partially my fault— there’s also B I have to worry about— and you! Like, I’m dragging you both into this mess just because I fell in love with some fucking nerd and now the other sides will hate you even more. I mean, Thomas doesn’t even know B, but I know those other sides are going to pin the blame on someone else like they always do, so we’re going to be antagonized more. And I don’t even know if B and Logan get along! Like, for all I know, I’m tearing our own family apart, because as far as I’m concerned, B would murder Logan if he got the chance to. But I can’t force him to be nice because I know it’s valid of him to get mad at Logan for all the shit that went down in Thomas’s teenage years, but I don’t know if that’s just going to hurt Logan and— agh!”

“Remus,” Janus spoke softly, snapping him out of his hysteria. As Janus carefully placed his hand atop Remus’ forearm, Remus had realized that in the midst of his incohesive rambling, he had successfully torn Janus’ cloak apart with his bare hands. Moreover, his eyes didn’t seem like the only thing that felt like burning as his lungs felt like it was being set ablaze with how labored his breathing has become. He could feel his shoulder shudder after every two quickened breaths and his eye twitch after every third. 

“Sorry, sorry, I—”

“Enough apologies, I need you to breathe in—” Remus took a shaky inhale, “—and tell me five things you see.”

“Wh-what is this, that Frozen episode of Sanders Sides—?”

“Five things you see, Remus.” Janus repeated himself sternly, not allowing Remus to joke his way out of this situation.

In return, Remus clenched his jaw tensely, averting his gaze from Janus to eye the scenery before him. As he fiddled with the destroyed cloak’s tangled loose threads, he spoke apprehensively, “Uhm. The lake, obviously, and its spirals. That tree in the distance that’s coiling up unto itself as its leaves are disintegrating, uhm—” Remus paused to even out his breathing before his heart decided to jump out of his chest involuntarily,  “There’s a— some smoke? In the distance? I think it’s from a funeral— they’ve been having a lot of those here nowadays. And there goes a gigantic snail, trying to avoid being preyed on by— by that snake-human hybrid thing.” he finished as the snake-human hybrid pounced onto the defenseless snail, “Ah well, at least he tried.”

Once Remus looked back at Janus, he realized how horrified he must’ve been judging by his raised eyebrows and extremely thinned lips. He must’ve been trying his best not to question any creature he witnessed in this hellish side of the Imagination, and Remus felt flattered that Janus still remained by his side despite the horrific surroundings. Janus eventually shook his head and avoided gazing at the snail being eaten by the snake creature. “Apologies, er, four things you can feel?”

Remus’s grip on the cloak suddenly tightened, “Well, obviously the cloak. Uhm, it’s strings—” Remus wiggled his bare feet that laid on the ground, “I could also feel the grass and— and some water. I don’t think I’ve dried up just yet.”

“Three things you can hear?”

“The snake-human hybrid feasting on the snail it just killed—” Remus heard a muffled disgusted sound from Janus but didn’t comment on it, “The wind too— I think a tornado’s coming. And—” Remus successfully punctured another hole onto Janus’s ruined cloak, “—cloth being ripped. Sorry about your cloak.”

“Apology not needed. Two things you can smell?”

“Mold. I think it’s coming from the lake. And I think that’s—” Remus sniffed, “—smoke? Could be dead bodies. I dunno. Staying here for too long made me lose the ability to differentiate bad smells.”

Janus slightly winced at Remus’s statement but continued on, “One thing you can taste?”

“Red velvet mixed with gross lake water.” Remus replied, gazing at the abandoned tupperware on his left. His stomach grumbled at the idea of finishing the cake but his hands were too preoccupied with cloak shredding that he didn’t bother with it at all.

“I have told you before and I will tell you again: I’m not one to sugarcoat things, especially when false comfort is never going to bring you anywhere.” Janus explained as Remus nodded in understanding, “But, while these problems are quite terrifying to deal with, they also are manageable with enough time and patience. There’s no avoiding the fact that Logan is going to be part of our side of the Mindscape soon— we honestly should’ve seen it sooner after witnessing all the neglect he’s been receiving. But through thorough planning and careful conversations with B and hopefully, Thomas, we can understand that these problems aren’t too complex at all.

“We both may be figments of Thomas’s personalities, but we are also human, despite, you know, our weird animal traits. These thoughts swarming around your head like to overcomplicate situations when they might not be as awful as they seem. Again, they’re all defeatable after careful planning, and I assure you that you have my support along the way. B and Logan are also there to share their support. And I know B— we both know B— he’s impulsive, but he isn’t stupid. I’m sure B has already overheard about Logan’s transition to our side and is trying his best to adapt. And Logan loves you, Remus, he will plan something, I’m sure of it.

“And as for you… well, there’s no avoiding that we all are at fault for this entire scenario, but you, out of every side in the Mindscape, has probably contributed the least to Logan’s neglect. But it’d also be useless to dwell on the idea further when Logan’s just about to transfer any time soon. Just understand that while we have made some mistakes in the past, we’ve also grown from them and have changed. And while I can’t fully speak on Logan’s behalf, it’s quite obvious that you’ve made his life much happier.”

Remus smiled sourly to himself, slowly processing everything Janus had just stated to him. “Thank you, Jannie,” he said, earning a smug grin from Janus. “I guess I just needed some rest.”

“With how overwhelming your thoughts are at the moment, you definitely need to rest. I don’t think you’re used to having ten million problems at once.”

Suddenly, a metaphorical lightbulb flashed within Remus’s head, eyes widening at Janus’s statement, “I— wait. Hold on. Maybe that’s the problem here!”

“Not resting? Well, yes, technically—”

“No, you idiot! I forget you lose your brain cells from time to time.” Remus commented, earning an irritated huff form Janus. “What I mean is— I’ve never been used to handling so many issues all at once. Like I…” Remus snapped one string off the cloth, “For all my life, I’ve been so complacent. The only issues I’ve ever dealt with were my intrusive thoughts and my insecurities and then, well, Thomas started reaching out to us more and... there was a shift. You understand me, right? Like, everything felt like it was changing once Thomas began to rely on the other sides more.

“I was never involved in any heavy issue. More than anything, I cause many problems without giving a shit about the consequences! And then Logan happened and everything just changed again. I was so used to not caring about anything that when every problem just started stacking up, I was... overwhelmed. It made me feel like I was responsible for everything, every little issue, and I felt like I was going to ruin everything.”

“But you were just not accustomed to juggling different issues all at once?”

“Right,” Remus replied. They stayed silent for a few moments, Janus letting Remus ponder about his newfound revelation. While a dull sense of relief settled within Remus, there was still a sense of disappointment that lingered around. He couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this all was. The problem was just so… childish. Immature. Really fucking dumb. For someone who nagged on incessantly about how pathetic Thomas was for pampering himself and his viewers constantly, Remus was being such a pathetic wimp himself.

“This was all so stupid,” Remus murmured, impassively staring off into the distance. “I’ve eaten four bottles of Vicks, I’ve killed three boars with my bare hands, fuck, I’ve tried recreating every monster from the SCP Foundation universe and tried to fight them all in a single arena! And yet this is what bothers me? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Is it supposed to?”

Remus paused for a few, “Damn,” he said, slightly breathless, “you’re good at this. Can I hire you to be my therapist?” Remus joked, his lips forming a half-smirk.

“I thought I already was.” Janus replied, “I’ll expect payment in forms of self-care.”

Remus tilted his head with a displeased pout, “Ew. Too expensive— I never agreed to any of these terms and conditions. Can we rediscuss your bill policies?”

Before replying, Janus sighed and swiftly stood up. Remus gazed at him in confusion before Janus stretched out an arm in front of Remus, implying that he was going to bring him somewhere else. “Nope, and I think it’s time for you to start paying back.”

Remus’s eyebrows slanted inwards at the abrupt demand, somewhat urged to refuse Janus’s order immediately. Janus seemed to recognize Remus’s hesitance right away as he lowered his hand in annoyance, placing it on his hip.

“I don’t want to return to my room just yet.”

Janus quirked an eyebrow at him, “I didn’t say we were going to your room, Remus, I’m not a fool.” Janus explained, and that made Remus loosen up a bit. “I was going to ask if you want to sleep in my room for tonight.”

Remus’s eyes widened at the offer but was definitely not dismayed by the suggestion. Faint memories of him and Virgil discreetly sneaking into Janus’s room on sleepless nights flitted across his mind as a warm yet pleasant feeling of nostalgia bubbled in his chest. Remus reminisced about the times where Janus would tiredly extract the pull-out bed from underneath his own bed as he and Virgil would enthusiastically hop on the bed before Janus would sing them a soothing lullaby. While Virgil was mostly a taboo subject between him and Janus nowadays, those old memories still sparked some odd comforting feeling within Remus, and he couldn’t help but smile in fondness.

“Well,” Remus started, “why didn’t you begin with that, penis squared?” Remus added with a genuine grin, scrambling to get a hold of the torn cloak and the abandoned tupperware. Janus mirrored his smile, albeit slightly tired, and reached out again to pull Remus up.

Once up, Remus dusted off any dirt that soiled his green hoodie before standing next to Janus. “I’ll make sure to set up a playlist of soap crushing videos for you to fall asleep to. While I didn’t want to do much work, I did grab some pillows, plushies, and fidget toys in advance just so you don’t have to return to your room for the night. The only thing I can’t help you with is breakfast in the morning because even if I wanted to do something sweet, we both know that I’m a fabulous chef.”

Remus barked out a laugh, “I wouldn’t want you to cook anything for me either. I feed all your failed meal attempts to Cthulhu.”

“...Poor Cthulhu.”

“But still, thanks for everything else, mother.” Remus said, earning an eye roll from Janus, “Where would I ever be without you?”

“Probably dead in a ditch.”

Remus barked out another laughter, “To be fair, I think I’d rather be dead in a ditch than face any of the crap I’m dealing with now. I think the corpse germs would treat me far better than how Thomas is treating me now.” Remus joked in between forced laughs as Janus’s face quickly dropped. Remus’s laughter only stopped when he felt Janus’s scaly palm touch his forearm and thumb over it soothingly. Remus looked at his hand, then at Janus’s face. His eyebrows are knitted together in concern but his lips formed a small, calming smile.

“This’ll all pass soon, Remus. Everything will be okay,” assured Janus as Remus quietly blinked twice at the statement before his lip quivered involuntarily. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

With glossy eyes, Remus nodded, “Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Twelve - Father Material

The last injection was one of the worst Victor had had so far. He felt feverish, his stomach churning, angry, revolting against itself. But he knew what would happen should he vomit, so he did his best to keep whatever gunk they gave him that morning inside him.

This time they put them all together in a room, a lady coming in now and then to check their temperatures. He noticed a small boy, probably four or five years old, weeping in the corner of the room. He hadn’t seen any of these kids before, this was obviously their first week there, but they already knew better than to comfort the small boy.

The boy tossed and turned, hands rubbing his tummy, occasionally moaning in pain. Victor immediately understood what was wrong. The injection was making him want to go too.

“Don’t do it here. If you do, they will hurt you.” He whispered to the kid, but his voice was so strained and low from his own suffering that he wasn’t sure if the kid was able to hear it.

And sure enough, a few minutes later, the kid turned to the wall sobbing loudly, his grey sweatpants wet with a brown stain, the room suddenly filled with a putrid smell. Something inside Victor snapped. In seconds he lost all sense of self-preservation, and before he noticed, he was by the kid’s side, stroking his back.

“It’s ok, it won’t be so bad.” He tried to console the kid. “They’ll probably go easy on you because you’re small.”

“What do we have here?” Came the guard, poking the boy with his stun baton to tease him.

The boy’s sobs only grew louder, as he shook in fear. Probably not his first encounter with that baton.

“He didn’t do it on purpose.” Victor intervened. “He’s sick and scared. Please don’t hurt him.”

“Oh but you see, I turned it on already.” He touched Victor’s nose with his baton, the blue light in the tip looking ominous. “What should I do with it?”

Before Victor could answer, the guard hit him right in the gut with his stick, tasing him. Immediately he lost all the strength he had left in his body and dropped on the floor, the contents of his stomach leaving his body, gushing from his mouth and nose. Victor coughed, trying hard not to choke on his own vomit, as the guard chuckled, playfully patting him on the back.

“Look at you, so strong, trying to be a hero.” The guard teased him. “Everybody knows who you are. Mommy and Daddy aren’t coming to save you, maggot. Here, you are just an orphan, and your parents are as good as dead.”

Victor closed his eyes tightly, not wanting the guard to see him cry.

“And tonight, my little boy, me and my baton will pay you a visit.” Victor opened up his eyes to meet an evil grin. “We are having a little slumber party.”

The baton snapped again on his chest.

“Did you hear what I said?” He felt his wife’s hand on his shoulder. He found himself back in the orphanage’s Director’s office, and beside him was the woman he loved. He was safe.

“Yes, it’s taking too long.” He guessed. “Don’t worry, this is just a formality. We were already accepted as Owen’s adoptive parents.”

Right on cue, they heard the office’s door open.

“I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting, we have a new child that is having a hard time adapting. I want to thank you for being here. I was very pleased to know you want to continue with Owen’s adoption.” The director shook our hands and took a seat in front of us. “However, I feel there is a need to discuss this a little further.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” Andrea fidgeted in her seat.

"Please understand that most of these children have arrived here due to very dire circumstances. Although he's only four, Owen is no exception. It's rare to see a child go through so much at such a young age."

“What do you mean?” Victor asked. Owen looked like a fairly happy child. At least, as happy as one can get living at an orphanage.

"Owen's mother took her own life, she hung herself on a pillar of their old house. The police told us that they found Owen, desperate, trying to pull his mother down. He was alone, his stepfather nowhere to be found. He also presented bruises all over his body. We believe he lived in a very toxic environment and was a victim of abuse." The director declared with a heavy voice.

“Oh my-” Andrea jumped from her seat, covering her mouth. Victor had no idea of what to say. No child should have to go through that.

“We inserted him in a foster family as soon as we could. Children are resilient at this age, and we believed that the sooner Owen was in a loving family, the faster he would move on from that horrible experience. But unfortunately, it didn’t go quite as we expected.” Miss Dillon sat straighter on her chair. “You see, Owen is a very bright child who has seen quite enough. Not many adults can deal with that. But my hope is with you, things will be different. You understand what trauma can do to a child.”

Andrea fidgeted on her chair nervously, remembering her trauma printed all over the tabloids.

“She means me.” Victor confessed, his poker face instinctively on.

Andrea looked at him with wide eyes, astonished with his confession.

“When I was rescued from the orphanage, Miss Dillon was there.” He explained. “She was the one that stayed with me until my father came to pick me up.”

Andrea’s jaw dropped and she remained silent, not knowing what to say.

“I still have nightmares of the atrocities I saw in that God-forsaken place.” The Director’s smile fell into a disgusted frown. “I can only imagine how hard it was for Victor to cope with it all.” She gave him a weak smile. “But now, it can serve as something good. Owen will finally have a family that can understand him and help him the way he needs.”

Victor nodded silently. She was right, but for him, it didn't feel good at all. There’s no measure to what he would have given not to have gone through that, or not to have Owen go through losing his only family in such a horrible way.

“Where do we sign?” He finally spoke. “And when is Owen coming home?”

“Well, we should give you some time to prepare a room-”

“It’s ready.” Victor and his wife spoke in unison.

“Then I guess there’s no point in delaying any further.” Miss Dillon got up from her chair. “You can pick him up next Saturday, after lunch.”

Back in the car, Andrea was silent. Victor didn’t need to ask why, he had blindsided her, by concealing the true nature of his relationship with that orphanage. Miss Dillon was one of the few good outcomes of that incident. Seeing children unprotected in such a manner, and subject to such horrifying actions, Miss Dillon had quit her practice as a child therapist and collected as much as she could from benefactors to open her own orphanage, with the solemn promise that if it depended on her, no child would be forsaken. When Victor saw her again, decades later, they were barely scraping by. He used his money and influence to help the orphanage and would make frequent donations to ensure it ran properly.

"I'm sorry.” He sighed. He had his reasons to keep her out of the loop, but this wasn’t fair on her either. Andrea was his wife, he was supposed to share everything with her. Even the things that were too painful to share.

“You don’t need to be.” She looked at him with earnest eyes, yet she didn’t smile.

“I do.” He looked away from her. “I should have told you right away, I-”

“Victor, when we first spoke about it you told me you hadn’t revealed the whole truth, because it was hard to.” She held his hand on the gearshift. “I understand why you didn't tell me about Miss Dillon at first. You didn’t deceive me. You were very clear it would be this way.”

“Why are you being so understanding?” He frowned. “I thought you’d be angry.”

“Ok, listen, I’m not going to say it doesn’t hurt a little that there are things about you that I don’t know.” Her voice was pained, and he looked at her again, worried. “But I also know this is hard on you. So, even if I don’t fully understand, I’ll support you.”

Victor took his wife’s hand lovingly.

“Thank you.” He smiled slightly. “I didn’t mean to upset you, it just didn’t seem relevant.”

“I’m more worried about Owen, honestly.” She leaned on her seat with a sigh. “He’s been through a lot.”

Victor had plenty in his heart to let out about that subject, but he chose silence instead, as he drove them to their home.

“Are you studying those again?” Andrea pointed to his books on the nightstand, as they were going to bed.

“There’s a last one that I didn’t finish.” Victor picked it up and showed it to his wife. “Knowledge is power.”

“We’ll be fine.” She sighed while she pulled the covers to enter the bed, by his side. “You don’t need to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.” He opened the book to the page marked by one of Andrea’s post-its. “I just like to be prepared.”

“Fair enough.” She turned off the light from her nightstand and crawled under the comforter. “I am going to go straight to sleep, I’m beat. Have fun with your books.” She turned to the other side.

“Where are you going?” He pulled her arm. “Come here. Rest your head on my chest.”

Andrea immediately turned to him, coming closer.

“That is much better, you’re warm.” She snuggled against him. “Are you sure you can read with me on you?”

“Wouldn’t I say so if I couldn’t?” He answered flatly, as he snaked his arm under her.

“Ok, ok, I’m here.” She defended herself, nuzzling his chest. “Grumpy.”

He kissed the top of her hair, his hand caressing her curls.

“Better?” He asked with a softer voice.

“So much better.” She looked up to him, and, understanding her cue, he pecked her lips. “Goodnight, handsome.”

“Goodnight, my light.” Victor turned to his book again.

Although it may seem a good idea to parents to give their children as many toys as they can have, even educational ones, they are depriving the child of the biggest satisfaction in life: to earn things. The very fact that they can earn something by working for it, e.g. by cleaning their room or setting the table, gives the child a sense of confidence and self-esteem that praise alone cannot provide.

“Do you think Owen has too many toys?” Victor frowned.

“Humm?” Andrea sighed sleepily.

“Nothing.” He pecked her head again, chuckling. “Go back to sleep.”

Victor closed his book, lost in thought. He had never considered that Owen could have too much and that it would hinder his development. He had had everything and that didn’t seem to affect him much. Victor never cared much about what he had. He liked the horses and some books his father gave him, but what Victor craved most from his parents wasn’t gifts. It was affection.

For some reason, his mind wandered to a particular moment in his childhood, when he found himself staring at the door of his father's study, wondering if he should knock.

“What do you need? Be quick.” His father spoke, not taking his eyes from some document he was reading.

Victor scraped the tip of his shoe on the carpet lightly.

“A child shouldn’t waste an adult's time.” His father reprimanded. “If it’s not important it can wait till dinner.”

It wouldn’t be important in his father’s eyes, but Victor knew his father would probably not be there for dinner.

“Do you know anything about the girl? And the other kids?” He asked in a weak voice. The nightmares wouldn’t let him sleep, maybe some information could ease his mind.

“What girl?” His father wrote a note on the document he was reading.

“The girl from the orphanage.” Victor tried again. “The one that saved my life.”

His father looked at him for the first time since he entered the study, his eyes full of contempt.

“You are never to speak about that day again, do you hear me? It upsets your mother.” His father turned again to the document. “And the girl you mention is dead. She didn’t survive.”

Victor’s heart broke with guilt. Mia was dead, trying to save him. Someone had died because of him. It was supposed to be him, not her. She was so little and fragile, and now she was dead. All because he was careless. This was all his fault. The walls of his father’s study spun, and Victor had to take a step back to steady himself.

“No, she can’t be.” Victor’s voice trembled, tears escaping his eyes. “She can’t be dead! You’re lying!”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Apart from his disgusted glance, his father seemed unaffected by his antics. “Lee men don’t cry. Now go make yourself useful and study. You need to be prepared for boarding school next week. Stop staining my carpet.”

He found himself back in his room, his loving wife still in his arms, but his heart was still in his father’s study, staining the carpet with tears. Pictures of his childhood flooded his brain, all those times he tried to please his father and he couldn’t, all those times he craved his father’s love, only to leave empty-handed. He held his wife tighter as she slept and inhaled deeply her perfume, trying to remind himself that he was a married man now, that he was happy, a far cry from the boy he once was. He was loved, and he had conquered the life that he used to fear.

He closed his eyes and felt her warmth, his fingers memorizing every detail of her skin and her curls, his ears mystified as she let out a sleepy sigh, thanking him for his love, and the memories faded away, one by one. However, the worry remained.

Some adults could be oblivious to the real responsibility of becoming a parent, but Victor wasn’t. Raising a child was an extremely important matter, especially for someone with Owen’s background, who had seen evil at such a tender age. Owen deserved the very best, and Andrea deserved the ideal husband and father by her side. But this wasn’t a business meeting, something that Victor could tackle with facts and figures alone. This particular task required feelings, and the knowledge of what it’s like to be in a family. Victor had a father and a mother, but he never had a family. He had progenitors, but not parents, not really. Well, he had his mother, but even so it was only for a short period of his life. His kidnappers had taken everything else away.

So how could he be a good father, if he didn’t have the faintest idea of how to be one? Even worse, what if he became his own father? He remembered how his father could be to his staff, he remembered how he acted, cold and dismissive, and it dawned on him that he was the same way. He remembered how his father’s employees looked at his father, with this blend of fear and respect, and wasn’t that exactly the way his staff looked at him? He blamed his father for so many things, but what if the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree? What if, even unwillingly, he would treat his son the same way?

Andrea had a good loving family, she didn’t have this problem. Her team loved her; they brought cookies on Fridays and had pizza together whenever Victor had a meeting and couldn’t pick her up for lunch. Andrea knew things like how to play hide and seek, and how to roast the perfect marshmallow with a candle, and what candies were the best. They went to the toy store and immediately she filled a basket with her childhood favorite things: some books, some playdoh, legos, and a slinky. She played with the slinky as they roamed through the store, Victor finding it insufferable, but that was his flaw, not hers. He did not understand what slinkies meant to a child; she did.

So what was his solution? The same as his father’s. The affection he didn’t know how to provide, Victor had compensated for in advance with toys, purchasing every educational toy he put his eyes on. As his father would, and had. Victor got everything he wanted, except for love. And he was doing the same thing already for his son. The thought disgusted him.

Victor left the bed carefully, trying not to wake Andrea up, going to Owen’s room. Although he had painted the walls of his son’s room himself, although he had decorated everything with the meticulous care of a loving father, all he could see now was ostentation, and it horrified him. Toys to fill the hole Victor would no doubt leave in his son’s heart. He couldn’t help but feel dirty. Not only was he being a lousy and lazy father, throwing money at everything, he was stunting his son’s development. That was despicable.

He started removing most of the toys from the shelves, leaving only the ones Andrea had picked. He would need to discuss it more thoroughly with Andrea later, but for now, he needed to make sure he wasn't doing anything wrong. He then looked at Owen's bookshelf, asking himself if all the books he had picked were age appropriate, even if on the cover it said so. Skimming through each one of them, Victor asked himself if stories of killing a wolf could lead to an adult that did not respect animals, or if reading about kissing a sleeping princess would teach Owen to love without consent. Soon he was surrounded by books and toys, frantically going through all of them, his mind reeling as he tried to discern the best options to keep.

His frenzy was interrupted by his wife's sleepy voice.

“What are you doing?” He turned to see her rubbing her eyes. "It's four AM.”

“Go back to bed, it’s cold.” He turned to her. “I just have to organize these, I will join you in a minute.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to do it in the morning. Come back to bed.” She came closer and held his hand, pulling him towards the door.

“I want to do it now!” He pulled away, grimacing as he observed his own reaction. “I just want to organize this, you don’t need to worry about me. I need to make sure everything is in order. Go back to bed.”

“Victor, Owen won’t care if his books are not alphabetically ordered.” Andrea looked at him with worry. He knew she meant well, but that only infuriated him more.

“Then what will he care about?!?” He felt himself snap again. “This is all I know how to do.” Holding a stuffed toy, he sat on the bed. “I’m terrible at everything else.”

Victor stared at the toy in his hands as he tried to keep himself in check. He hated when his feelings got the best of him, but he hated even more that he woke his wife up, and now she felt the need to comfort him. He abhorred being a nuisance.

Victor felt Andrea’s arms tighten their grip around his chest. He held her hands. They were cold.

“Do you want to catch a cold? You’re freezing.” He turned around, trying to pull her to his lap. “Come here, I’ll keep you warm.”

In a matter of seconds, Victor had successfully placed her in his lap, her arms resting on his shoulders, fingers running through his hair. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to talk.

“Are you going to tell me what’s upsetting you?” She pressed.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” He wouldn’t dare look her in the eye, shame consuming him.

“You want to quit?!?” Andrea jumped in his lap, alarmed.

“No, I don’t want to quit.” He was offended. “I would never do that, especially with something so important. What I mean to say is that I feel unprepared.”

“No parent is prepared, Victor.”

“Spare me the clichés, you know what I mean.” He snapped, exasperated. “You know my family, you know how my childhood was.” He hesitated for a second, sharing insecurities wasn’t his thing. But this was his wife. He had to be truthful. “What if I’m just like my father? What if I’m not cut out to be a father? Owen has been through so much already, he deserves good loving parents. What if I can’t be any of those things?”

“Nonsense.” She chuckled. “Of course you are lo-”

“You didn’t like me when we first met.” He interrupted her, defying her. “Not for a long time.”

“That was before I knew you.”

“You had all those nicknames for me.” He frowned at her. “King of Highhorseland. You called me a bully.”

"But now I know better. I know who you truly are, and I know I was mistaken."

“You are kind, you see the best in me.” He caressed her curls. “I have to admit sometimes I question if I really do have all those qualities you see in me.”

“Victor…”

“I’m not good at expressing feelings in a way most people understand. I can also be cold and dismissive. Most people find me unpleasant to be with. Do you think those are traits a good parent has? What if I can’t be loving and caring in the way Owen needs? All I know how to do is to organize and buy him things. Just like my father did.”

“Ok, let me just set something straight.” Andrea turned to him in all seriousness. “You are one of, if not the, most caring person I have ever met. You are upset and still all you could be concerned about a few moments ago was that I was getting cold, and here I am in your arms now.”

Victor’s gaze turned to the floor again. Again, she was seeing the best in him, ignoring all the blatant flaws he had. She held his face, making him look her in the eyes.

"You are nothing like your father. You will be an excellent father to Owen and you will be able to understand his needs even more than I will because you had those very same needs. You'll be able to relate in ways I can't possibly ." She came closer, her nose almost touching his. "Do you know why I also think you'll be extremely caring? Because parents that don't give a crap don't waste time late at night wondering if they will be good parents."

Victor lifted a hand to her face. That light she had in her eyes, that beautiful light that warmed him, that could dissolve any ice wall in a heartbeat, he wished he had it. That light could do miracles.

She got out of his lap, sitting close to the headboard.

“Come, lean on me.”

“It’s alright, you don’t need to do this.” He instantly refuted.

“Victor Lee, will you let me be a good wife and take care of my husband?” She pretended to scold him. “Come.”

“I’m too heavy, I will probably crush you.” Despite his protest, he obediently entered the comfort of her arms, his head leaning on her chest, but still worried. “Let me know if you have trouble breathing.”

“You are not as big as you think.” She teased, earning from him a chuckle.

He had to admit, being in her arms and listening to her heartbeat was amazingly comforting. Her fingers ran through his hair, calming and nurturing, and for a moment he forgot his anxiety, and just watched the sun start to rise through the window. When his mind was still, he finally listened to his heart. The love he felt for his family would make up for any lack of experience he would have. This was him treading uncharted territory, like so many times before in his life, but this time he wasn’t alone. Along with his heart was another heartbeat, sweet and steady, the one he was hearing now.

“Thank you.” He whispered shyly, expecting a teasing remark .

None came. When he looked up, he saw the love of his life sleeping soundly, her fingers still threaded in his hair. Victor could almost laugh at the sight. He should've known she would fall asleep.

Slowly and carefully so as not to wake her up, he gathered her in his arms and cradled her to bed. It was indeed pleasant to be taken care of, but he liked it so much better this way, protecting her.

Author’s note: If you liked it, don’t forget to share your thoughts with me! It always brings warmth to my heart! And my ASK box is open! I love talking and hearing from you, beautiful people! Lots of love!

[marvelslut16]

Closure

Pairing(s): Steve x reader, Steve x OC!Ana, Reader x OC!Mike

Synopsis: (Y/N) and Steve are paired up as partners for a year. The problem is she hates the golden boy. Quickly she learns that he isn’t as horrid as she once imagined and they become best friends. Will (Y/N) realize before it’s too late that she’s madly and deeply in love with one Steven Grant Rogers?

Word count: 5,100 whoops

Warnings: Some fluff, some angst. Swearing. Mentions of stitches, but now graphic descriptions of gore. A super clueless reader. Bucky is a bitch in this. Jealousy. 

A/n: I should have been writing my Stan Uris request (which I’m more than have done with) or my next chapter of can’t fight this feeling (it’s getting there you guys!) but I wrote this bad boy instead. I hope you guys enjoy it and are staying safe and healthy during these crazy times. 

Steve was never the man you planned to fall for. Hell, you hated the man for three years. You thought he was pretentious and full of himself when he snootily corrected you on a mistake only he noticed. Everyone praised him, said he was so fantastic; he could do no wrong, he’s America’s golden boy after all.

A few years had passed since the incident where he corrected you on an almost nonexistent mistake in the middle of a mission. You two were suddenly paired up by Fury to be partners on any future missions. Bucky was still recovering from all the pain Hydra caused so he couldn’t be Steve’s partner, but you had been hoping to get either Nat or Tony as yours. But life never works out how you want. 

Being partners also meant you two had to train together too, help you bond and become a stronger pair on missions. Blah blah blah. You had a sprained wrist from a mission you had just been on, it was supposed to be a simple in and out until the shield agent helping you made a mistake. The worst part is that you happen to be dating that shield agent, Mike can’t go thirty minutes without apologizing. The more he does it the more it gets on your nerves, so you always try to take hold of the conversation and steer it away from that topic. 

So as you're in the gym for your first training session, sitting on a bench board out of your mind watching America’s golden boy workout his already perfect body, you text Mike and complain about being stuck with the blonde soldier. Steve breaks the tense and awkward silence randomly, causing you to put your phone down for the first time since entering the gym. 

“Do you know how to work this thing?” his thumb is pointing over his shoulder at one of the many treadmills, he’s giving you a sheepish smile.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you smile softly, quickly getting up and pressing the buttons, setting it up for him. “There ya go.”

“Thanks,” he lets out a sigh, running a hand through his slightly sweaty blonde locks. “I’m still new to all of this technology stuff.” You don’t respond, not verbally at least. You give him a warm smile and small nod, his grin seems to grow at your first real interaction. 

As your time with him in the gym becomes more frequent when you're healed, you notice that he doesn’t actually need your help setting up the machines. He even sets them up for you if he beats you to the gym that day. You realize that it was really just an icebreaker, this way it wouldn’t be as awkward and you would finally talk to him. It turns out he doesn’t even remember correcting you all those years ago, so maybe he isn’t as bad as you’ve always made him out to be. 

--

To nobody's surprise, but your own, you and Steve become fast friends. You didn’t think much of it, he’s your partner and you two are supposed to get along. So the friendship was a good thing, right? Steve soon became your confidant, the one you would seek out if the mission was hard or if you and Mike were in yet another fight. Besides that, Steve was just a great person who was fun to be with.

He was surprisingly political for a man that was frozen in ice for seventy years, so he’ll talk your ear off about what’s going on in the world. It’s not too surprising, you suppose, he was political propaganda and has an unwavering moral compass, so it’s to be expected. He keeps you educated and up to date, something that amuses your teammates when they see you guys hang out. You and Steve will have animated conversations about World War II, comparing the political climate and leaders back then to now over lunch. What really amused everyone was how quickly those serious conversations could flip and turn into pop culture talk. If one of you says a reference from a show in your conversation, it immediately switches to that show or ones like it.

You had introduced Steve to friends, and he had come running to you as soon as Ross and Rachel had their we were on a break fight. He was so distraught over the show, he wanted Ross and Rachel to just talk out their problems. You thought his reaction was adorable, and so did Nat who was quietly laughing to herself in a corner. 

There were days where you didn’t even have to talk, content with sitting in silence and filling out mission reports. Typically spent listening to songs from the forties, or you trying to get him into modern music. Everyone was shocked, especially Bucky who is now back from Wakanda good as new apparently, that you got Steve to get a cellphone. The super soldier frequently texts you with questions or to complain that he misses you if you’re too injured or sick to make it to training. 

--

Very rarely was Steve moody, one reason you were glad when you got him and not Tony, but when he was it was unbearable. He had gotten in a fight with Bucky and ignored you in training. No setting up the machine for you, even though he was already running on his treadmill when you got to the gym. No offering you water after a tough set, or apologizing if he thought he pinned you to the mat too hard, which he always did. 

“Stevie, what’s wrong?” you finally broke the silence.

“It’s nothing (Y/N)!” there’s a flash of anger towards you in his icy blue eyes. “I’m done training for the day.”

“But we still have another hour!” you holler at his toned back, white shirt clinging to the sweat, as he walks away from you. 

“I don’t really care, I don’t want to talk,” Steve doesn’t turn to face you. His voice drops so low he thinks you won’t hear him, but you do, “I don’t want to be around you right now.”

Your heart squeezes at his words. Was Mike right when he called you too much the other night? Were you so annoying that both your boyfriend and your best friend didn’t want to be around you?

Steve’s blue eyes softened as he apologized for his actions the next morning. He didn’t know you heard his last bit, but you weren’t gonna tell him you did. So you just dealt with the little bit of your self esteem chip away, but that was nothing new. 

--

You’re knocking on his door in the middle of the night, instantly regretting it when you see the dark bags under his sparkling blue eyes. His arm flexes as he rubs a hand over his face, gray sweatpants hang low on his waist, and his navy blue shirt is slightly twisted from tossing and turning.

“Sorry,” you sniffle and quickly apologize. You start to walk away but Steve’s thick fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you towards him. 

“What's wrong?” the sleep gone from his eyes, replaced with worry at the sight of your tear stained cheeks. 

“It’s nothing,” you sigh, running your hands through your hair. “It was stupid.”

“Is it nothing or is it stupid? ‘Cause it can’t be both Doll,” his voice is soft and inviting, it makes you start crying all over again.

“Mike and I got into such a bad fight,” you cry, he immediately pulls you into a hug and into his apartment. He ushers you over to a stool in the kitchen, grabbing you both a beer, claiming that you look like you could really use one. “He threatened to break up with me, he just kept saying that I have too much baggage from before. Telling me that I’m too annoying, too clingy, too much.”

The super soldier stayed up with you all night, letting you cry and vent about your relationship troubles. Again. He even took you out for breakfast when morning rolled around, you two laughing over what seemed like a gallon of coffee. While you had never woken him up before, you two had talked for hours if Mike had done something stupid or hurt you. 

Steve and Mike had been sort of friends before this, having worked with each other on missions before your partnership. But the words that Mike had been spewing at you hours earlier made it so that Steve could never look at him the same way again. Who could be that cruel to you on purpose?

--

The Avengers were going to a local hospital to surprise the sick children in the cancer ward. You’re paired up with Bucky much to your disappointment, everyone wanted Captain America and Black Widow together, they were well known. You don’t dislike the ex assassin, but he’s practically Steve’s brother which makes you infinitely more nervous around him. 

As you're waiting for the all clear from one of the oncologists you get a text from Tony with an updated schedule, one child was able to go home a day early so they were no longer there so a new room with a new kid was added. You briefly smile down at your lock screen, a picture of you and Steve making stupid faces in your uniforms- he even let you hold his shield. 

“Is that you and Steve?” Bucky’s long strands of hair hit the side of your face as he leans down to get a better look of the picture. 

“Uh- yeah,” you turn to look at his face, a small frown of confusion graces your features. His gaze goes from curious to a large frown, confusing you to no end. 

“Why did you guys take it?” he asks, crossing his thick arms across his chest, making sure to flex them.

“Uh, we had just gotten back from a long mission and we needed to decompress,” you smile fondly at the memory of the bleach blonde man making you laugh when you didn’t think you could even smile. He somehow managed to take your stress away, he always knew how to make it better; you’re convinced it was a power that came with the serum. “We were just goofing around and having fun, Steve suggested we take a picture to remember it.”

“You’re so annoying,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, brown locks creating a curtain around his face. Your jaw momentarily drops open in shock, but you quickly close it as the oncologist comes back to the two of you. You put on your well practiced mask, cheering up the kids was far more important than your measly little feelings.

For some unknown reason Bucky told Steve about the interaction. Steve immediately apologized the next day for Bucky’s actions, but it meant next to nothing coming from him and not the man with the vibranium arm. Steve just kept going on about how Bucky’s brain still wasn’t back to  hundred percent yet, but you knew Bucky had meant what he said.

--

“Are you sleeping with him?” Mike storms into your apartment that Tony gave you in Avengers tower, perks of the job. 

“What?” your eyebrows furrow, you aren’t a cheater. “Who?”

“Steve,” his name comes out of Mike’s mouth like it burned him, but you can see the sadness in his eyes. 

“Of course not!” anger starts to fuel you, how dare he make these accusations about you and your friend! 

“Sharon came up to me at work today and said she wouldn’t be surprised if you two were sleeping with each other behind my back!” he defends. Of course it was Sharon, you restrain yourself from aggressively rolling your eyes at the annoying woman's antics.

“Steve and I would never do that! And you know that. You also know that Sharon is obsessively in love with Steve and is most likely jealous of my friendship with him.” 

The conversation ended there that night, but you knew it wasn’t over yet. Mike left shortly after to go to his apartment twenty minutes away from the tower, and you were left to wonder why the hell Sharon would ever suggest a thing. Steve was just a friend! Right? 

The next day during training you were complaining to him about Sharon and Mike as you were punching one of the many bags filled with sand. Knuckles bruising and bleeding, but you don’t notice. Far too occupied with everyone sticking their noses where they don’t belong, just looking to start drama within the Avengers.

--

You and Mike had gotten into yet another fight about Steve a month later. This time you didn’t want to go to the man at the center of your problems, so you went to two of your friends Marie and Trisha. They’re both Shield agents that work with Mike, so they know the both of you enough to give you good advice. 

“He just keeps getting so mad at me for being friends with Steve!” you complain to the two girls, who roll their eyes at the words they’ve heard come from your mouth a thousand times before. 

“So break up with him,” Marie shrugs like it’s no big deal, checking her nails. 

“But I love him,” you blanch.

“Do you though?” Trisha asks with a judgmental eyebrow raised. 

“Of course I do! We’ve been together for two years, I see a future with him,” you furrow your brows at how rude they seem. “But do you think he’s right? Do you think Steve likes me?”

“Not even close!” Trisha laughs. “(Y/N), he would never go for someone like you, he could have any woman- or man- that he wants.”

“Dump Mike and forget Steve, they aren’t worth your time,” Marie looks up from her nails to give you an annoyed look.

So much for friends, huh. But Trisha was right about one thing, Steve would never go for someone like me. I’m not special, I’m not beautiful; I’m just annoying and I carry too much emotional baggage for anyone to deal with. You walked out of shield headquarters that day feeling worse than you did when you came, and no closer to solving this whole Steve Mike business. 

--

Steve was reading the briefing for your next mission when you entered the common room in the tower. You plopped down right next to him, swinging your legs over his lap and resting your head on his shoulder to read it too. He threw the arm that you’re leaning on across your shoulders to make it more comfortable for the two of you. You and Steve would sit like this all the time; during movies, reading up on missions, while talking about anything and everything. 

It made Mike uncomfortable, and maybe you were naive because you never understood why. Steve was your friend, and friends cuddle. Plus it was extremely comfortable and some days you just needed it. The first time you did it you did as a joke, trying to make Steve uncomfortable, it was a game you two play. But you both quickly found how much you both liked it and you do it without giving it a second thought now. Plus, it’s a nice added bonus when Sharon sees it and gets upset. 

--

Before you and Steve knew it a whole year of partnership passed, and Fury decided to change partners around. Steve obviously got Bucky and you got Nat. While she was your original first choice, now all you wanted was for Steve to have your six. There wouldn’t be anymore inside jokes, long talks, or silly photos to take. You would miss the way his nose crinkled when he would laugh at one of your stupid jokes, or how his face would scrunch up and the tip of his tongue would peak out from between his lips when would sketch you during your free time. 

If losing him as your partner weren’t enough, he was moving out of the tower. He found a cute little brownstone to move into, him and Bucky were going to be roommates. You believed Steve when he told you he would come visit you all the time, but it was just an empty promise. You felt like you were losing a piece of your heart and soul. Steve had become your best friend and you weren’t sure when you would be able to see him again. He left the tower one night, never telling you goodbye first. 

If anything good came out of Steve’s move, it was that you and Mike weren’t as rocky as you once were. You were crushed that you didn’t have Steve by your side anymore, but you would never tell Mike that. He’d never understand how you missed the super soldier as a friend. He and I would still text occasionally, or talk briefly if we ran into each other in the halls, but it was never the same. And it never would be.

The next time you saw Sharon she was smug, as if she were gloating because you weren’t close to him anymore either. But that all changed when Steve entered the tower with a shorter woman with long black hair on his arm named Ana. She was a nurse for shield, apparently they had met when she insisted he get a cut stitched after a bad mission, even if he would be healed within a few hours. You used to make Steve get checked out after every mission, made sure he took care of himself, but you were useless now. 

“She’s cheated on every guy she’s been with,” Sharon whispered to you as Ana swung her own legs over Steve’s lap and curled into his side. The smile on his face was so wide and loving, it was honestly revolting. Nat, Tony, and Sam all turned to watch your face at the interaction, you masked any possible emotion. But Tony saw the hurt in your eyes, you had officially lost Steve. But he was never yours to lose. 

You pushed off Sharon’s words, why would she tell you the truth when she hated you so much. But when Trisha and Marie texted you out of nowhere freaking out about her being a cheater you knew it was the ugly truth. Steven Grant Rogers, the love of your life as you always jokingly called him, was going to get his pure heart broken by someone who would never love as much as he loved her. 

-- 

Mike caught you one night, when he came over to surprise you with dinner, looking at the drawings of you that Steve had done while swiping through the pictures you had taken with the blonde. Mike, seeing that you were grieving the loss of such an important friendship didn’t say anything about it. Instead you guys ate your food and talked about your future together. He kept repeating that he wanted to marry you one day soon. 

While the prospect of spending the rest of your life with Mike was exciting and inviting; it was a nice safe choice. You couldn’t help but wonder, would Steve go to your wedding? Would he be your man of honor like you two joked he would be? Or did he not care about you now that you weren’t partners anymore? Because your life would be gray without him in it. 

--

Tony threw his yearly charity gala. You were dressed in an ombre blue dress that made you feel like Cinderella. Mike had surprised you and paid for you to go all out and get your hair and nails done. What you didn’t know was that Mike was trying to spoil you so you would be happy again and maybe fix your crumbling relationship. While your relationship was fine, better even, when Steve had moved, it was falling apart now as you wallowed in self pity over the fact that you lost your best friend. 

You had begged Mike for hours to go dance with you, but he wouldn’t. He just told you he didn’t want to and sat at your table sipping his drink. Steve and Ana were spinning around the dance floor, they looked so happy it hurt. You couldn’t help but stare, that could have been you. What did you have to sell to get Mike to seem like he cared about you and to dance with you? A kidney? An arm or a leg? Your soul? Because you would do it. 

Nat and Wanda saw how depressed you looked, so they pulled you onto the floor with them. And for a few minutes everything felt right in the world, you were finally happy. But that ended as soon as it began when Ana bumped into you while she was dancing, you would have fallen if it weren’t for Wanda and her powers. She giggled out a fake sorry before pulling Steve in the opposite direction.

When you sat back down next to Mike again you couldn’t tear your eyes off of Steve. Who had he become? He was so enraptured by Ana that he didn’t even try to talk to you like he always did at big events like this. What you didn’t know was that while you were holding back tears Mike was trying to talk himself into breaking up with you. He knew you weren’t happy anymore, that you would much rather be with Steve. Even if you didn’t know that yet. 

--

After a long talk with Fury it was decided that it would be better for everyone if you went back to being a normal shield agent instead of a part of the Avengers. While it stung a little and felt like a downgrade, it was what you wanted as well. To make things even better, you were now paired up with Sharon. Your long hours together proved she wasn’t as horrible as you once thought, but she was definitely not your favorite person. 

Mike started working in a new sector where he was partnered up with a new agent named Jana. He spent more time with her than with, you so you started hanging out with Trisha and Marie regularly again. The two girls tried to get you to shit talk Ana with them, but you wouldn’t. Steve was happy and that’s all that mattered to you. 

Mike broke up with you. He sent you a text at three in the morning telling you it wasn’t working. You wholeheartedly agreed, nothing felt right anymore, but you would have preferred the break up in person. That was the decent thing to do.he started dating Jana, and you were happy for him too. Just like Steve, you wanted him happy.

--

Months passed after the break up and you were still friends with Mike. He was your partner and your friend before the relationship, so you were sure as hell going to be his friend after the end of your three year relationship. Your break up wasn’t a secret, it seemed like everyone at shield knew the details of it. 

Mike, Jana, Maria Hill, and you were all eating lunch together when a familiar blonde haired blue eyed man walked through the cafeteria. Your heart started to pound, you hadn’t talked to Steve in almost a year and hadn’t seen him in even longer. Mike gave your arm a quick squeeze as Maria was getting ready to go talk to him. But Ana locked eyes with you as soon as Steve waved at you, and pulled him away from you. Mike pulled you into his side and Jana gently rubbed your hand that was sitting on the tabletop. 

Maria runs away from you and Sharon and up to talk to Steve when she sees him in the hall later that day. You and Sharon share an unsure glance before following Fury's right hand woman. Steve has a long talk with Maria about an upcoming mission she is accompanying him and Bucky on. He even talks with Sharon about a new technique Nat taught her when the redhead visited a few weeks prior.

“Hey Rogers,” you give him a small smile when his eyes finally land on you.

He opens his mouth, ready to speak to you for the first time in ages. But before he could get any words out Ana let out an annoyed sound, sent Steve a look, and stormed off. Steve gave you an apologetic smile before running after his girlfriend.

Your mouth opens as you let out what would have a mix between a sob and a scoff if it hadn’t come out silent. It felt like something was wrapping around your heart, giving it a painful squeeze. That feeling snaked up and constricted your throat, momentarily causing you to forget to breathe. Maria is looking at you with soft confused eyes while Sharon is glaring at Steve’s back as he runs after Ana. 

Ironically, you ran crying to Mike. It was a sick twist of fate, after a year of running to Steve when things went wrong with Mike, he was now the one helping you when it came to the hurt America’s golden boy caused. He took you out for dinner that night and spent hours comforting you. Because after all this time you finally realized it. You’re in love with Steve, you have been for years. But now you’ve lost him for good. 

-- 

“Are Steve and Ana still together?” Wanda asks when you visit her and Nat at the tower. 

“I think, why?” you glance between the two redheads confused why they would be asking you this and not Steve.

“Well her and this other shield agent came with us on a mission,” Nat admits. “And the entire quinjet ride she was hanging all over him.”

“We had to spend the night there,” Wanda says slowly, like the next words out of her mouth could change everything. And they do. “I caught her sneaking into his room.”

The world around you seems to slow and your fragile heart seems to crack even more. You knew it. You knew that bitch would hurt your Stevie. 

After leaving the tower for the night you immediately message both Marie and Trisha because they were right. At the office the next day you join in on the shit talking for the first time. Nobody hurts your Stevie. 

--

Tony invited you to the charity gala again, he kept whining that he missed your annoying ass. So you're put on a gorgeous deep red dress with a slightly bedazzled bodice. You're at the bar with Tony, Nat, and Wanda when Sharon comes running over; her dress, Trisha, and Marie trailing behind her. 

“Is Steve still with Ana?” Sharon asks, slightly out of breath.

“Why do people keep asking me this?” not only are you confused, but you're angry that it keeps coming up. “How am I supposed to know? Steve and I don’t talk anymore.”

“Ana came with the guy who’s room she snuck into,” Marie eyes you nervously as she speaks. 

“That's her ex,” Jana adds as her and Mike join the group forming at the bar. 

“Check their socials!” Trisha hollers unhelpfully. But you do anyway, and what you see breaks your heart.

You check Ana first, but after typing her name into the search bar nothing comes up. Mike quickly looks her up and shows that she still pops up on his phone, she obviously blocked you. Ana and Steve were still her profile picture, but you weren’t satisfied with that.

Your fingers fly as you type in Steve’s name. He pops up, but you suddenly aren’t friends with him anymore and the option to send a friend request isn’t there. Your cracked heart shatters. Everyone around you seems to fade and all you hear is white noise, you never meant anything to him. You don’t realize you're crying until your tears hit the picture of him and Ana laughing which is his new profile picture. 

Tony makes you another rum and coke, which you chug. Screw Ana. Screw Steve Rogers. And fuck feelings. You spend the night dancing with Nat and Wanda when they aren’t with Clint and Vision. Mike, who refused to dance with you a year ago, even took you for a spin around the dance floor. 

--

You eventually cut Trisha and Marie out of your life, they were nothing but trouble. They were bad influences, trying to get you to be a meaner person than you were. And it worked for a while, you had let them manipulate your hurt into anger since that was an easier emotion to process. Shortly after the gala you got transferred to a shield base in Sokovia, Wanda and Pietro excitedly showed you around their home. Sharon texted you a year after you left that Steve had apparently broken up with Ana.

It has been almost three years since the day of that gala and about two since Steve and Ana had broken up. Mike is still your best friend, he’s planning on proposing to Jana soon. He’ll occasionally see Steve and tell you how he is. Recently you decided to look him up on Facebook again to see how he was doing; he looks good, happy. You had the option to send him a friend request again, so you did. And within ten minutes he said yes. 

It has been about a month since that happened, you haven’t messaged him and he hasn’t messaged you. You’ll react to some of the old photos from the forties that he’ll post, or the memes he posts about Stranger Things, another show you had gotten him into. Facebook friends doesn’t seem like too much, but for you when it comes to Steve it means the world. 

While you don’t have that connection you had with Steve once, him accepting is like he’s accepting your apology for how poorly you acted when it came to Ana. You finally got your closure. 

And with that you put down your pen and close your composition notebook. The one you're shield appointed therapist, you had to talk to her for your yearly eval, had suggested. She thought it might make you feel better to have all of the words written down, all of the truths and emotions out in the open. You realized far too late how you really felt, and the notebook was the only way to fully process everything that had happened these past four years.

Forever tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

[tayerroos]

Patchwork Tales: Book 1

A “9" roleplay compendium.  Read on AO3 Chapter: 9 [First] [Back] [You Are Here] [Next] Warnings for this chapter: Panic Attack, Violence

[arofili]

saved post, ignore this

(don’t reblog this)

Smut4Smut Prompts

I didn’t intend to write an actual letter, I just wanted to paste my prompts into the description box for this exchange, but then I got long-winded (as usual) so here are the prompts that were too long for AO3 to handle! If the prompts did fit into the box they’re not going to be here, and I am not restating my DNWs/Likes/etc; that’s all readily available in my AO3 signup.

~~~

Canon Russingon Prompts

(These are optional - if you have a different idea, go for it!)

This is my “Russingon in canon” request, though if you’ve got a canon divergence AU, be my guest.

BDSM - A doms B into being nicer to/taking better care of themself: This just screams Russingon to me. Maedhros asking for Fingon to be cruel to him and Fingon using kindness as the greatest cruelty because Maedhros hates himself so much...

Character Bottoms Who Normally Tops, Character Tops Who Normally Bottoms, Role Reversal: I’m a sucker for role reversal, especially with these two. I lean toward Maedhros bottoming more often than not, but however you prefer their dynamic is completely fine.

Can't Stop Thinking About It - A Accidentally Sees B Naked, Can't Stop Thinking About It - A Hears B Masturbating and Moaning A's Name: I think I’ve written both of these scenarios for these two but I would LOVE to read another take on them! Mutual pining in Valinor? :)

Characters mutually pining finally get together and have amazing sex, Filthy Sex With Feelings,: I just love this in general, and Russingon having filthy but extremely loving sex is my very favorite thing <3

Characters Experiment With Sexy New Ways To Use Detachable Body Parts: Maedhros’ prosthetic. Enough said.

Characters React To In-Universe Smut Written About Them: Listen, someone has GOT to have written some Russingon smut in-canon, that’s just statistically likely. The sillier and less accurate it is, the better, especially if it’s countered with them having the kind of sex they prefer in...protest? Or maybe trying out some of the dumb things, lol.

Cock Slut, Slut Praising: bottom!Maedhros tbh.

Crown kink, Fealty, Throne Sex: The “Fealty Kink” tag is literally half Silm fics, and half of those are Russingon fics. Add some more?

Dom/sub - not 24/7 but reflecting RL power roles: Very much related to the above. Liege/vassal kink? Yes please!

Domesticity - Sex In Bed Before Sleep: Just. Soft married Russingon. ;-;

Devotion: THEY JUST LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND WOULD (AND DO) DIE FOR EACH OTHER. AHHH.

First Time: I am SUCH a sucker for first times. Could be their first time together at all, or their first time doing a specific sexual act, or their first time in a certain situation (post-Angband, post-rebirth, etc...)

Getting Together: Another thing I really really love in almost any form, especially if there’s been mutual pining before this.

Fluff and Smut: Russingon just loving each other SO DAMN MUCH...bonus points if there’s some baby Gil-galad fluff involved before/after the sexytimes?

Hurt/Comfort Sex: Their lives are so depressing that there’s so many times this could apply. Right before Formenos? Right after the Darkening or the First Kinslaying? Post-Angband/Ice? Post-Bragollach? Or any other time things get angsty (aka all of canon)?

Magic - using telepathy to cause other person to orgasm: Soul bonds. Dom Fingon. Yes please.

Morning After (Incredible Sex the night before): Fluffy good times. Maybe after their first time, back in Valinor?

Mutual Masturbation With Intent to Watch Each Other in Lieu of First Time Sex: Another fic I have definitely written before but would LOVE to see again! This would make the most sense in a LaCE context, I think.

Mutual Pining: I’ve mentioned this a billion times already, you get the idea.

Praise Kink: Maedhros has a praise kink, that’s just canon. This can be fun and slightly embarrassing in Valinor...or really intensely emotional post Angband. Or post-rebirth...oof.

Pregnancy - Sex to Conceive Heir: Just where DID Gil-galad come from, hmmm? (Trans mpreg is wonderful; I’m not interested in cis mpreg. Either one of them could be trans, I enjoy both.)

Reunion Sex: They’re basically in an LDR in Beleriand, give me some Fingon visiting Himring or Maedhros visiting Dor-lómin and just how horny and desperate they are for each other after being separated for awhile.

Scar Worship: Finno post-Angband finding Mae’s scars Extremely Sexy?

Secret relationship between members of feuding families: This is literally just canon. Lean into the Romeo and Juliet style Valinor shenanigans!

Sex After Taking Revenge on Someone Who Wronged Their Partner: Husbands who murder orcs together and then fuck while still all nasty from battle :)))

Sex Toys - Character Fucks Themselves on a Dildo While Performing Oral Sex: I just think Mae giving Finno a blowjob and fucking himself at the same time would be really hot, okay?

Size - Size Difference: I do love bottom!Maedhros, but I also love size queen!Fingon, and I think they both really enjoy the size difference :))

thank god you're/we're alive sex: I bet this happened SO many times after battles in Beleriand. This could also apply to right after the Darkening, and would be just HEARTRENDING right after the First Kinslaying...

Soul Bond - Sharing Physical Pleasure Through Soul Bond: I am very fond of this trope! Also like. Them feeling how much they are loved through each other’s eyes. Ahhh. But also like, Mae getting off on how good he’s making Finno feel. Or vice versa.

Character A hurts Character B (at their request) during sex but Character A immediately regrets it, Character Thinks Rescue Has a Price Tag, Sex gets paused to deal with PTSD then maybe returned to, panic attack during sex: These are some angstier options! I would love a fluffy/happy story (or a hurt/comfort story) but if you wanted to go a bit darker route here’s some ideas. Just. Post-Angband Mae with no self worth and/or consent issues, Finno having a hard time dealing with Mae being masochistic, Mae flashing back to Angband...all of these are some really juicy ideas.

~~~

Modern Russingon Prompts

(These are optional - if you have a different idea, go for it!)

This is my “Modern AU Russingon” request - though if you see a tag here that you think could be applied to canon, that would be awesome too.

Trans Male Character: Lots of these tags would have at least one of them being trans, which I’m also super happy to see in canon-compliant fic, but I know for me it feels a bit easier to me to write about trans stuff when I don’t have to worry about terminology not fitting the setting, so I put them here.

Cunnilingus to relieve period cramps, PiV With Trans Male Character, Sex Toys - Character Fucks Themselves on a Dildo While Performing Oral Sex, Sex Toys - Giving a Blowjob to a Dildo or Strap-on, Sex Toys - Strap-On: Just all some very excellent stuff if you want to go the trans route. I imagine the strap game would be next level with these two.

Characters mutually pining finally get together and have amazing sex, Filthy Sex With Feelings, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Morning After (Incredible Sex the night before), Mutual Pining, Praise Kink, Size - Size Difference: I requested all these tags for the canon prompt too, this is just the same stuff but modern, where they get to be dorky about how much they’re in love, minus most of the angst.

Character with Low Self-Esteem has Self-Worth Affirmed Through Tender Sex: ...but not minus ALL the angst. Just. Mae having had bad experiences in previous relationships and Finno being extremely tender and loving to him, AHHHH.

Getting off on how much partner trusts them: And this could be the other side of the previous request - Mae is trusting Finno even after all the bad stuff he went through and that’s very sexy to him.

Good Boy/Good Girl Kink: This could apply in canon too but if you want to do the trans thing, it could also be a gender affirmation thing.

Impact - Friendly ass slap unexpectedly turns character on: Mae is mortified that he’s into spanking, Finno is delighted.

romantic sex: This didn’t fit into the previous request but YES PLEASE. Just. They love each other SO much.

~~~

Russurgon Prompts

(These are optional - if you have a different idea, go for it!)

OKAY wow I love this ship, it’s so incredibly fucked up and angsty, hell yeah. This is one request where you really don’t need to bother with anything fluffy or a happy-ish ending, just go full on angst mode, please! Basically, I just think it would be very fun and horrible if Mae seduced Turgon for political reasons post-Nírnaeth when they’re both grieving Fingon :)))))

Character Bottoms Who Normally Tops: I can see Turgon having a hangup about bottoming...which Mae is fine with but one day they get into a Very bad argument and Mae like, puts Turno in his place. (No non-con though. Dub-con would be okay here.)

Characters about to kill each other decide to fuck instead: Kinslaying averted by sex!

Dirty Talk - Character A Gets Off on B Relaying Their Sexual Exploits: Just. Mae growling in Turno’s ear all the filthy things he would do with Fingon and Turgon HATING it and especially hating how hot it is.

Enemies to enemies who fuck, Enemies With Benefits, Frenemies with Benefits, sex between enemies, Sex between rivals: Basically all the same thing. These guys do NOT like each other but they’re fucking anyway.

Fucked with the hilt of a weapon: Look idk man just. Turgon being really mean to Maedhros after a post-battle argument or something?

Grudging/Horrified One-Sided Attraction To Someone Who Annoys You Deeply: I think this would be funny if Turgon realized he was into Mae (honestly, at any point in time, not just post-Nirn?) and that maybe the reason he was so mad about Fingon dating Mae is because he was jealous...lmaooo

Hate Sex Turns Unexpectedly Tender: Like. A moment of understanding between them. That they both refuse to talk about after it happens.

lord/retainer, Political Alliance Confirmed with Sex, Political Debate as Foreplay, Sex as a Negotiation Tactic, Sex As Part Of Diplomatic Negotiations: POLITICAL SEX. It’s showing that they’re serious about this alliance...nothing else, just that...right?

sex as self harm, Sex as Unhealthy Coping Mechanism, Sex as Grief Processing: This could work for both of them but I think it especially works for Maedhros. He unlearned a lot of fucked up shit with Fingon after Angband, but now Fingon’s dead and it’s all coming crashing back down on him...and Turgon hates him so much that if he can tell, he doesn’t care.

A using B as replacement for C who is not present: This is exactly why Mae would fuck Fingon’s brother.

~~~

Anairë/Fëanor/Fingolfin/Nerdanel Prompts

(These are optional - if you have a different idea, go for it!)

OKAY so I don’t like sibling incest EXCEPT for Fëanor/Fingolfin, pretty much, just because the love-hate stuff with them is SO juicy. But I also hate how most FëaNolo fics depict their relationships with their wives, so I would just love it if they were all a polycule or had a foursome or something that didn’t end up with Fëanor and Fingolfin leaving their wives.

Bisexuality: They’re all very hot and they’re all very into each other. Gender who?

Breeding Kink - as dirty talk without risk: Look Fëanor and Nerdanel had SEVEN kids, I think there was probably some kind of breeding kink there...Fëanor applying this to Fingolfin, though? That’s hot. Or maybe he’s dirty talking with Anairë while Fingolfin is Right There.....yesss. But again, no risk, because elf pregnancy is always very intentional.

Character A and Character B Mutually Pine For Each Other While They Fuck Other People Together: Fëanor and Fingolfin just absolutely refusing to acknowledge their feelings even when they’re having sex with each other’s wives.

Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration - Vaginal and Anal, Double Vaginal Penetration: I just think it’s hot. You can mix up who’s penetrating who, give the ladies some strap-ons or mess around with gender, if you like.

First Time - Getting Pegged: Fëanorians get pegged, it is law, so probably not Fëanor’s first time but... Nerdanel pegging Fingolfin? Or Fëanor and Nerdanel showing Fingolfin and Anairë how it’s done? OR since let’s be real Fingolfin ALSO probably gets pegged regularly, Anairë and Nerdanel fucking each other while their husbands watch, and it’s their first time with another lady.

First Time Having Sex Postpartum: I imagine Nerdanel is unfazed by what pregnancy does to the body, but maybe Anairë isn’t, and her lovers all get together to show her how much they still love her after like, Argon is born?

Fucking Someone While Being Fucked By Someone Else: All the fun things you can do with multiple partners...

Grudging/Horrified One-Sided Attraction To Someone Who Annoys You Deeply: I must admit I missed the “one-sided” part of this when I picked this tag - but maybe they think it’s one-sided but it turns out that it’s not? Regardless, this is exactly how I see Fëanor and Fingolfin if they’re in a ship situation.

Sexy Shenanigans at a Masked Ball: Anonymity allowing a secret relationship to be slightly less secret!! Everyone is like “wow who is that tall fellow dancing with Prince Fëanáro?” or something like that!

~~~

Taeglin Prompts

(These are optional - if you have a different idea, go for it!)

Now this is my rarepair that I completely understand why it’s a rarepair, but also like MATCHING CURSED SWORDS. I generally think of this ship in the context of a “Túrin goes to Gondolin with Tuor” AU, BUT it could also be a “Aredhel and Maeglin go to Himlad, and then follow Celegorm and Curufin to Nargothrond and stay after they get banished” AU, but that’s a bit more convoluted. Or you can have them meet each other on one of Maeglin’s journeys away from Gondolin, or whatever other take you’d like to explore.

Both parties are pining for someone else: Túrin missing Beleg? Or both of them being in love with Idril and upset about her choosing Tuor instead, lol.

In Captivity Together, Bad guys think they made them do it but they really just enabled them: Túrin gets captured alongside Maeglin...or maybe Maeglin gets captured earlier, at the same time Túrin is after Amon Rûdh? (In that case it would probably just be “Bad guys made them do it” without the qualifier because they haven’t had the chance to Pine.) Basically, they finally have an excuse to fuck, and it’s not ideal, but hey they’re gonna take it.

Realizing romantic feelings mid-sex: “Oh FUCK I actually like this guy. Shit. Goddamnit.”

Mating Cycles/In Heat: Maybe heats are an elf thing, and Túrin remembers how Beleg would get, so he knows how to help Maeglin...and it’s not like Maeglin was going to ask anybody for help, he was just planning on suffering through it (again?)...

~~~

eta: an anon asked about smut likes and i was like oops i didn’t make that list so here’s some stuff i enjoy. otherwise just see the kink tags i requested

anal sex, vaginal sex, oral sex (basic but yknow)

fingering

frottage

very romantic sex (especially for russingon)

nonromantic sex (i like aro takes on characters)

trans characters whose gender is affirmed during sex

trans characters without much physical dysphoria

reunion sex

first times!!

hurt/comfort sex

political sex

fealty kink, liege/vassal dynamic

mutual masturbation

double penetration

russingon stumpfucking

dirty talk

healing from trauma through tender sex

dealing with trauma through rough sex

teasing, begging

dramatic miscommunications that get cleared up (such as mutual pining, very brief worries about consent, etc)

praise kink (especially for maedhros)

size kink (especially for fingon)

telepathy/osanwe

dom fingon/sub maedhros

hair kink

possessiveness but ONLY for russingon

sharing a bed

maedhros getting spanked......

role reversal, switching

[imaginedisish]

Ask Me I Won’t Say No. How Could I? (Otis Milburn x Reader) (Sex Education)

A/N: YAYAY MY FIRST SEX EDUCATION IMAGINE!!!! IT’S PURE FLUFF! (the next one is gonna be smutty as hell don’t worry!) This is based on an anon request I got earlier today :) The title is based on a song by The Smith’s called “Ask”.  Thank you for all the love and requests as usual! You’re all amazing! XXXXXX <3 

Summary: You and Otis are best friends, but you’re head over heels in love with him. You decide that it’s time he knows the truth, even if he’s in love with Maeve. 

Warnings: Some language!! Mega fluff! 

Word Count: 1,520

(oh also I’d very much like to marry Will Poulter, Asa Butterfield and Fionn Whitehead...okay that’s all ENJOY)

The birds chirp loudly as you walk down the wooded path, almost as if to warn you to turn around. They know what you’re about to do, and it’s as if they know that it’s going to go poorly. Rays of sunlight peep through the luscious, green, canopy like trees as the brook on the opposite side of the path babbles. The fall breeze greets you like an old friend. It pushes against you, begging you to turn around just like the birds had. 

Don’t tell him, the wind whispers in your ears. Obviously it wasn't really the wind, but your apprehensive self warning you of the mistake you were about to make. 

When you woke up this morning, you had made a life changing decision. You decided that today was going to be the day that you tell Otis Milburn exactly how you feel about him. 

And that was terrifying to you. 

You two had been best friends for quite some time. You told each other everything, sometimes to a fault. You knew all about his gigantic crush on Maeve Wiley, and that killed you. She was gorgeous, sure. She was complex person, you’d give her that. But she wouldn’t treat Otis the way you would, or so you believed. She would use him, she wouldn’t love him the way you do. No one could.

Regardless, from the very beginning of your friendship, you knew that you liked Otis. At this point, you knew weren’t just “in like” with him. 

You were in love with him, and it hurt far too much to keep hidden inside. You would do anything for that boy. All he had to do was ask, and you would never be able to say no. You loved him too much to do otherwise. He made you feel special, and beautiful. No one else could do that. No one. 

After a few more minutes of walking, you approach Otis’s huge, red colonial home. You’ve always admired the house. Large windows allowed natural light to pour into and flood each and every room. Golden brown wood floors stretched throughout the entire house. All of this was tucked away amongst rolling hills and forest. There was something romantic about the house’s location, something that made your heart beat rapidly every time you reached the front door.

You ring the door bell and wait. The sound of heels clacking against the wood floors inside the house echo in the air. Suddenly, the front door swings open. 

“Why hello, (Y/N!)” Mrs Milburn stands in the doorway, one hand on her hip and the other resting on the door knob.

“Hi, Mrs. Milburn,” you reply timidly, a forced smile spreading across your face. It wasn’t until that moment that the realness of the situation smacked you in the face. You’d have to tell Otis that you love him, that you want to be with him. 

And worst of all, you would most likely have to hear those retched words, the most terrible words ever iterated in the English language. 

“I’m sorry, I just don’t feel the same.”

Your mind was spinning. This was a mistake, you think to yourself. Maybe it isn’t too late to turn around. Maybe I can just say I forgot I had something to do and go home. Butterflies violently crash against the walls of your stomach, your heart beating so fast that you might as well have run a marathon.

“Call me Jean, love.” Mrs. Milburn’s voice brings you back to reality. “Come on in, I’ll get Otis.” Mrs. Milburn opens the door all the way, inviting you to come inside. You hesitate for a moment, almost wanting to sprint in the other direction. Still, you reluctantly step inside. Mrs. Milburn closes the door behind you.

“Otis darling! (Y/N) is here!” Mrs. Milburn says as she guides you into the kitchen. You then hear a set of feet hurriedly stumble down the stairs. A few seconds later, Otis appears in the kitchen, practically out of thin air. 

“H-hey, (Y/N),” Otis says, smiling, giving you a small wave. He walks closer to you, until he’s standing by your side. An awkward lull of silence falls upon the room. 

Mrs. Milburn quickly catches on. 

“Well I’ll give you two the room,” She says, rushing into her office, closing the door slightly. The awkward silence, however remains. You pull out a chair, and sit down at the kitchen table. Otis does the same. 

“I need to talk to you, Otis,” you say softly, your voice giving away your nervousness.

“Is-is everything alright?” Otis questions, reassuringly resting a hand on yours. Heat rises to your cheeks at the feeling of his touch. His turquoise blue eyes meet yours, a soft smile spreading across his face. 

“E-everything is j-just f-fine, but there’s something eating at m-me that I-I need to tell you,” you stutter. Otis’s smile turns into a look of concern.

“You can tell me anything, (Y/N), you know that,” Otis says. You nod, collecting your thoughts, unsure of how to begin. 

“From the first moment I saw you, Otis, I knew there was something so spectacular about you.” Your voice is low and shaky as you struggled to get your words out. You don’t know if you can bare to go on. 

After all, you think to yourself, I know how this is going to end. Maeve this, Maeve that. It isn’t me, and it never will be. 

Otis notices your nervousness. “It’s okay, take your time.” You smile at his kindness. God he’s so sweet, you think. You regain some of your confidence, and begin again. 

“You’re not just some guy in the corner to me, Otis…” You trail off. This was it. Here it comes, you think to yourself. You breath deeply, preparing for the worst. 

“I’m in love with you, Otis, and I have been for a while.” You did it. You said the words you always wanted to. You search Otis’s eyes for some sort of an answer. 

A heavy silence weighs down the room. You feel like you’ve made a grave mistake. 

Fuck. I can’t believe I just did that. Years of friendship ruined, all over one stupid fucking crush, you think. It feels like your world is falling apart. Tears begin to fill your eyes. You push the chair out slightly, standing up. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you mumble, making your way back towards the front door. “I should be going.” Tears fall down your cheeks at free will. You hear feet shuffle across the hardwood floors behind you as you head outside. You open the door, and practically run out.

“No, wait!” You hear Otis call out from behind you. He breaks into a sprint, trying to catch up to you. Suddenly, a set of arms find their way to your waist, spinning you around. 

You’re taken back as Otis’s lips come crashing down against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. There’s a hunger about the kiss, something you’ve never felt before. 

But god does it feel so good. You kiss him back, smiling against Otis’s lips. He pulls away from you slowly. 

“I’m s-so s-sorry. I’m sorry for not saying anything back right away. I’m sorry I talked about Maeve so often with you,” Otis says, his words rushed. “I’m in love with you, (Y/N), I’ve just always assumed you would never feel the same. How could a girl like you ever love a guy like me?” You shake your head, almost upset with Otis’s low self esteem.  

“How could a girl like me not love a guy like you?” You say, wiping the tears from your eyes. Otis wraps his arms around you again, pulling you into a tight embrace. You hear his heart beating rapidly against his chest. The sound makes the pit of your stomach fill up with excitement. 

You two stay there for some time, until Otis pulls away. 

“I guess there’s only one thing left for me to do,” Otis chuckles, anxiously scratching the back of his neck. His ocean eyes glow in the sunlight, his fluffy brown hair an absolute mess.  “Would you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes!” You hear Mrs. Milburn scream from the front door. Otis rolls his eyes and turns around. 

“Mom! Really?” Otis shouts back to her. 

“Sorry darling!” Mrs. Milburn rushes back inside, only to open a window and continue eavesdropping on your conversation. Mrs. Milburn’s heart was always in the right place, no matter how overbearing her actions were. 

“I’d never say no to you, how could I?” You say finally, giggling with joy. Otis beams, wrapping his arms around you, picking you up and spinning you around. 

“God I love you. It feels so good to finally be able to say that,” Otis says into your neck, refusing to let you go. Your heart flutters in your chest. 

“I love you two,” You say back, smiling wider than you ever have. Everything felt so new, so vibrant, so beautiful.

You could definitely get used to this.

[imaginexmeintheuniverse]

Try Again

(just to be sure)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 2, 413

A/N: since im officially adding HP to the fandoms im now writing for, here's my first draco drabble!

The astronomy tower was a good place for you to be alone with your thoughts, although today wasn't a great time to be alone with such thoughts. You don't know if it's just 'one of those days', or if it's the accumulation of awful things that have been getting to you, or simply your self-loathing and bad self-esteem catching up to you, but you sit by one of the wide windows looking out as terrible thoughts cloud your mind.

"What's the matter, Y/L/N? Are you thinking about how your mere existence is a scar on this world?" Turning around to see the face that matches with the dreadfully familiar voice, sure enough, Draco Malfoy is there, invading your alone time— today of all days. You shift your focus back to the window so that your back is to him once more— you don't want him to see how terrible you look. Definitely not because you'd ever want to impress him, but you don't need another thing to add to the list of things you hate about yourself.

"Seems that way," you answer quietly, head hanging low instead of firing back with your chin up like you normally would. Swiping furiously at your cheeks, you try to get rid of the evidence that you had been crying before his steps reach you.

"Or are you- wait, what?"

"I'm utterly useless; a talentless fool, and a worthless idiot," you ramble on, allowing your feelings of self-loathing to take the wheel as you wallow in your self-pity. "You're right okay, now you can skip away happily knowing every insult you've ever told me is true."

"No, no, no," he sounds like a broken machine. "No! This isn't how our dynamic works!" He looks at you with wide eyes, examining you to see if you've been hexed or jinxed, but all he sees is are your red, puffy eyes that have had the life drained from them. "N-No- this is the part where you call me a twat- o-or a foul git—"

"Listen, Malfoy, I'm really not in the mood for this now, so will you please just tell me how much I sicken you, and continue on your way?" Your voice cracks and the way the sound resonates in his chest makes Draco unbelievably uncomfortable.

The boy is already uncomfortable with his own emotions, the mere thought of dealing with someone else's makes him want to run in the opposite direction.

But he doesn't. Instead, he angles his body as an attempt to initiate eye contact as he speaks, "Mind if I sit?" You shrug in response without looking at him.

Things are worse than he thought if he's taking a seat next to you and you haven't Stupified him to the other end of the room yet.

There's a silence that settles over the two of you as you sit side-by-side. Your attention is on the landscape before you, but at some point Draco's eyes are drawn to you. He finds himself taking in details he he's always overlooked during your regularly scheduled bickering. Not minding the bloodshot eyes and the dark circles that frame them, your irises are still bright, your eyelashes seemed to curl with the perfect curvature, and your lips look so soft— he's trying to imagine if they feel that way too. His focus then shifts downwards to where his hand could very well touch yours if he moved it just a little.

"Hey, can I ask you a favour?" You say, breaking the silence, and snapping him out of his trance. He tries to control the blush that appears as he feels like he's been caught. It takes him a moment to remember where he is and to get back into character.

"Are you sure that you're in a position to be asking me any favours?" He tries to maintain his usual snarky tone, but his voice has already gone softer than he would normally allow.

"Please, I'll owe you one in return," He reluctantly nods his head, wondering what you could possibly ask of him. "Would you tell me something about myself- what y-you think- something true- please?"

You know that you shouldn't be looking for any kind of validation or confirmation from anyone— especially not the likes of Draco Malfoy, but you're head has been spinning with every horrible thing that's ever been said to you, as well as all the awful things you already think about yourself. You've lost a certain level of perspective and you need something concrete to hold onto— whether it's good, or bad.

He's grown so quiet, if he weren't sitting right next you, you might've thought that he left. But he's there, looking at you hesitantly. Judging by how much time he's taking to speak, you know you probably won't like what he tells you, but you did ask him and should expect anything.

What he actually says surprises you.

"You're genuine," he says simply. You blink a few times, slightly shocked by his answer. "You're fully, and consistently yourself—"

"Draco..." He perks up at the sound of you calling him by his first name.

"It's something I wish I could be, and I admire you for that—"

"Careful there, Malfoy, you wouldn't want me to think you might actually care about me, do you?"

"O-Of course not!" he scoffs, though he's stumbling through his words. "Don't flatter yourself, Y/L/N. Like I could ever care about an underling like you—"

"Oh, sod off, you insufferable git," you retort, and you both let out a chuckle as you get back into the groove of what your interactions normally consist of.

"This favour you owe me now..." You quirk up an eyebrow, waiting to see where he's going with this. "I can use it at any time I please, correct?"

"Sure, Malfoy," An uneasiness hits your stomach at the sight of a smirk that starts to form on his features.

"I want to use it now." You roll your eyes, so not in the mood for whatever labour or humiliating task he'll tell you to do.

"Does it have to be now?"

"Absolutely. No take-backs."

"Oh, all right! What is it?" His smirk suddenly disappears as he hesitates. He was playing it so cool just now, but his eyes leave yours in favour of his lap. Despite not being prepared for whatever it was just seconds ago, now you want to get it over with. "Come on then, what is it?"

"O-On second thought, never mind—"

"No, just tell me now. Let's get it over with!"

"I-It's okay- le-let's just pretend that everything here never happened- you won't owe me anything—" There's no way you were going to let yourself carry the burden of being indebted to Draco Malfoy, so you grab his shoulder and turn him to face you.

Seeing that he might actually be a little freaked out, you let go of him and ease up, "Tell me what it is you want me to do, I'll do it, and then we can part ways and everything will go back to normal."

His widened silver eyes lock with your Y/E/C ones as he swallows down his nerves. He takes it upon himself to edge his hands forward so that his fingers brush against yours, and he finally discloses what he's been thinking, "Kiss me."

"W-What?" Now it's your turn to be taken aback as you replay the last five seconds in your head to made sure you heard correctly.

"N-Not if you absolutely don't want to- I wouldn't make you do that- tha-that would be messed up, but—"

"Draco," He stops rambling after you use his first name for the second time. Taking it upon yourself, you slide your hand under his and squeeze his palm. "Stop talking."

Following your instruction, he doesn't say another word, and he worries that his request might be so outrageous that you'll hex him, but then you lean forward until your lips have barely brushed his. The combination of your Y/E/C hues and the sweet breath that fans over his lips is enough to put him under a spell— not literally, although it feels that way.

He's shocked by the action. That much is an obvious tell, judging by his expression, but he lets his eyelids flutter closed anyways as you press your lips to his. The first thing he registers is how your lips are indeed softer than they look, and the second is that they are a perfect fit for his. He doesn't kiss you back, instead sitting in the feeling of your lips, as well as wanting to make sure that it's truly what you would want before he made any moves.

His eyes remain closed for a moment after you pull away while he processes the sensation, as well as trying to control the fireworks exploding in his heart. When he finally opens his eyes, he feels at peace for the first time all year. There's something about your firey gaze that calms him, like a home fire. There's also something about it that makes him nervous, but not the same type of fear that he's used to— it's as though you can see right through him.

"Well..." is all you can say, hoping that your voice can mask the sound of your erratically-beating heart.

"Well...?"

"Did you... by any chance... feel anything?" The rational part of your brain deduces that he wouldn't have asked to you to kiss him if he didn't want you to, but the irrational part of your brain is already racing and overanalyzing the sparks you felt when your lips touched his. Now you want to know of he felt it too.

"I-I, uh, I'm not sure," he lies, knowing exactly how it made him feel. He's simply uncomfortable with his own emotions, as we've established.

"You're not sure?" You ask incredulously. Seriously, what kind of response was that? "What, should we try again for you to be sure? Geez, maybe this time, you could actually kiss me back—"

Draco lurches forward to capture your lips to make you shut up. But mostly because he does want to kiss you again. It's an intense, albeit short kiss that ends before you can respond, but comes with a certain rush of adrenaline that causes your heart rate to spike. He doesn't pull away far— his lips would still touch yours again if he leaned forward even the slightest bit.

You're momentarily stunned by the sudden action and freeze, letting the storms that reside in his irises to bore through you as his uneven breaths fan over your lips. His hand moves from where it held yours, trailing up your arm, over your shoulder, and passing over your neck, his fingertips leaving shivers in their wake until he reaches your jaw. He grasps the side of your face, lacing his fingers into your hair, and holds you in place as he brings his lips back to yours again. This time, you push back against him instantly as though on instinct.

Your lips fall in synch with his and he holds you tighter, deepening the kiss. Your hand moves to grab onto just about any part of him so you can steady yourself, and you end up latching onto the crisp fabric of his perfectly ironed shirt. His hand that had been planted on the ground then moves to push your body closer to his as his palm lays flat on your back.

There's a powerful sort of feeling that surges through you like electricity, and the traces of whatever disheartening feelings ruled over you earlier are wiped clean off as Draco kisses the remains of salty tears away.

You and him break apart naturally, slowing the pace and placing soft pecks onto each other's lips that gradually become shorter in length. Leaning against the other's forehead, you both stay like that with your eyes closed. Eventually, your grip on his shirt loosens, leaving the once neatly pressed fabric all wrinkled, but he couldn't care less.

Finally opening you eyes, you begin to speak, without actually knowing what you're going to say, "Well this is..."

"...unusual?" he finishes, awkwardly sliding his hands through his scalp to slick back any stray hairs before placing them firmly on the ground.

There is yet another moment of silence where you look anywhere but at each other. Swallowing your nerves, you decide to look at him, scanning his features for any kind of indication as to what might be going through his mind. He appears to be somewhere between deep in thought and trying to process everything that has just happened.

You take it upon yourself to break the building tension, "So did you, uh..."

"...feel anything?" He finishes your sentence yet again, letting out a light chuckle. You're pretty sure that's the first time you hear him laugh for real. No matter how small it is, it's still a genuine, non-ill-mannered laugh, and it sounds wonderful.

You don't know what he feels at the moment, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't feel a certain warmth spreading from your chest through to the tips of your fingers.

"I don't know exactly what I feel yet," you tell him honestly. "A-And I don't know what we're supposed to do now—"

"Me either- I mean, I-I don't know what to feel," he admits as his hand slides over to yours. What he really means is that he's conflicted by what he feels, and what he thinks he ought to feel— a constant struggle of his. "So, what now?"

His eyes meet yours, his grey orbs locking you in place. You take notice of one strand of hair he missed. It hangs over his forehead and it takes all of your remaining will power not to reach forward and put back in its place.

"I could push you off the Astronomy Tower," you chuckle in a lighthearted tone, returning to the type of thing you would normally say to each other. His lips pinch into a small fake scowl before he graces you with another genuine laugh that makes your heart flutter.

"Or... we could give it another try..." he suggests, raising an eyebrow playfully. "Just to be sure..."

"Yeah, just to be sure," you repeat, and the words have barely just left your mouth before Draco crashes his lips onto yours again.

[razorblade180]

Lasting Embers pt17: Bloody Sand

Jael:*twirling her new whistle* Die huh? Somebody is quick to the point; not even gonna say your motives.

M:Thought that would be obvious *cracks knuckles*

Jael:*staring at the figure in the far back* If I had to take a guess I’d say the only reason the lady is protected in the back is to act like a pretty little storage unit for powers. How’s it feel to be wanted only for your body? Self esteem must be low.

C:Oh I’m going to enjoy killing you. *eyes glow a blood red*

*grimm form a wide circle around Jael*

Jael:(That confirms it; I guess these are the cult members I’ve heard about. Explains why they would be looking for mom) *looks to her left* you seem pretty normal; no weird black veins or glowing eyes like your friends.

H:*crouching low* maybe not but trust me, I play rougher than both of them. *grips his machetes*

*wind howls*

Jael:(Well, looks like they aren’t just gonna let me run. Guess I got no choice) *slowly inhales, left arm resting on her sword*

H:Lady, are you sure you wanna do th-

Jael:*channels her semblance and blows the whistle.....hard.*

*a high pitched screech agonizes everything, forcing them to cover their ears. This whistle slightly cracks*

M:Agh! What kind of whistle.....!?

Jael:(Better move fast....) *flicks the tackle box up in the hair and kicks it at him*

M:*catches it* Hmph, foolish g- *box rattles*

Jael:Better hope that’s not your writing hand.

*box instantly drops to the ground, crushing his hand underneath it. A think black substance oozes from his hand as he shouts in pain*

Jael:(No aura?)

H:Master!!!! *dashes at Jael*

Jael:So that’s what the “M” stands for.... *quickly fires her sword off one of his blades then blocks the other with her sheath* thanks...

H:DON’T FUCK WITH ME! *sand pillars shoot up around them, transforming into a copy of his likeness*

Jael:*head butts him before jumping towards her blade* that’s unexpected.

*the both of them immediately go at it exchanging sword strikes. Jael rapidly countering each side slash with her own while taking shots at the sand clones*

Jael:(He’s pretty good)*side stepping him to thrust another attack into a clones head, causing it to crumble.*

H:*smirks as four more clones form as he hurls a blade* let’s see you weasel your way out of this one.

C:*eyes glow*, sending the pack of grimm to attack from all directions*

Jael:Alpha, you wanna do something? It’s your pack after all.

Alpha:.....*burrows away*

Jael:I guess I should’ve seen that coming.

H:You named a grimm?

Jael:Sigh, you see.... *knocks his sword through a clone and back at him.* I’m not very popular or social for that matter. *takes a breath and stomps her foot*

*all the grimm around her start to sink into the sand slowly*

H:*knees begin to buckle* What in the....my body, I can’t-

Jael:Move? Almost like there’s some sort of weight keeping you down? *running at him*

Master* writhing in pain* Gravity......she’s messing with gravity. Dust on her sword? *trying to move the box*

H:That...explains a lot.

Jael:Does it really though? *raising her hand*

H:*Rises in the air, his clones disappear* It’s her semblance!?

Jael:Scary right? *jumps above him and axe kicks him into the sand* Considering the punishment you’re able to take and your skills. The “H” is for huntsman? *floats him above the ground* I’m also guessing you have to make a clone on whatever your feet are one. Be glad I don’t just cut off your legs.

C:*shaking as she pulls out a pistol* You crazy bit-Jael’s blade flies by grazing her faces and also drawing a suspicious black blood from her.

Jael:H, M, C. The huntsman is just that, a huntsman. Used for his strength to protect the other two. Master is the kind I can’t seem to figure out, but it looks like he has things in common with you. *points to her* catalyst.....

Catalyst:*starts walking backwards slowly*

Jael:You get grimm unde control and then the Master command then freely because who would listen to a frail thing like you? *walking towards her*

Catalyst:Stay back!!!!

Jael:Or what? You’ve proven to me that those who control grimm severely reduce the aura to basically nothing. I’d start talking if I was you.

Master:Don’t you dare utter a word! Do you hear me!?

Jael:I’ll blind her......

........

Jael:You all heard me. I will blind her if nobody talks. I’d imagine sure that will make the grimm around here pretty restless and angry. Nothing likes being controlled.

Master:.....go right ahead

Catalyst:*flinching at his words* wha...what?

Master:You seem surprised. Your whole purpose is to aid then be discarded. Why would anyone do anything different?

Catalyst:......*drops to her knees*

Jael:........I guess you need friends more than I do. *raises her sword* tough luck.

Catalyst:WAIT! I’ll talk; I’ll do anything! He- *ground collapses beneath both of them*

Jael:*Stabs blade in the wall and hangs there*

Master:*eyes bright red* Oh how the weak break so easily. If you’re not willing to the limit... *finally frees his now deformed hand* then why do anything in life?

Jael:*looking down below*......... what kind of monster does this?

*a horde of dog like grimm maul the cult member below; biting her to the bone*

Master:*looking over the ledge* What else would you expect from the grimm?

Jael:I was talking about you. She fought for you and you killed her in cold blood. *clenching his fist* I’d expect more out of humanity, a team!!! Who are you to decide just how much someone is worth!? What they can *cough* what they can become.....? *cough*

Master:The way you speak makes it sound like you were bluffing about blinding her. Not like it matters now *points at her* try anything and I’ll shoot you point blank.

Jael:Look who’s bluffing now? You need me alive if you want the winter maiden pow-

*bang*

Master:.......

Jael:*aura flickers, a bright red bruise on her forehead forming as blood drips.* o...ow

Huntsman: *falls to the ground* What the hell do you think you’re doing!? You could’ve-

Master:If a maiden was in this type of situation then I would expect her to use magic. Yet here this girl dangles; bleeding and angry. We’ve been played.

Jael:*coughing* Guess the jig is up. Surprised you bought it for song.

Master:To think a kid not only made me kill a subordinate but crushed my hand. *cocks gun* can’t let that slide now can we?

Jael:*Smirks* That’s a good choice of words. Perfect I’d say hehehe....

Master:....what’s so funny? *glaring* you think this is funny!?

Jael:No it’s just you said slide. Like a sand slide....

Master:What?

Jael:My gravity semblance is pretty useful I’d say. It can make things float like your huntsman, or make things extremely heavy like the tackle box. Sometimes though you just need gravity to keep things together; like a sand wall with a sword wedged in it. Too bad all that ends with my aura.

Master:*looks at the sand below him moving*

Jael:I should be angrier about you shooting me in the face but I think I’ll let it slide... *pulls the sword out the wall*

*Sand wall falls apart, washing then both to the bottom of the pit with the grimm*

Master:*coughing up sand* You annoying little- *gasp*

Jael:*standing over him* I was bluffing about about eyes.... *slashes his eyes* but not yours...

Master:......*curls up in pain, jaw clenched shut* you......you insignificant little... *hears growling*

*grimm staring him down*

Jael:Looks like they’re still hungry. Did you know these grimm are known for their canines? That’s why they’re called White Fangs; one of the most hostile grimm around and they’ll attack just about anything. If only you had your catalyst to calm them.

Master:You’re deranged! They’ll attack you too if you don’t do something!

Jael:I’ll be just fine. Wild they may be, they respond to who’s in charge. *pats her leg*

*a hole opens up with Alpha laying in it*

Jael:There you are Alpha! I knew you wouldn’t just leave me. Can you get me out of here? *flicking her head up*

Alpha:*sits on his hind legs*

Jael:Good boy! *balances along the bone along his face*

Alpha:*launches her in the air by flicking his head up like a spring board*

Jael:*grabs a ledge* Thank you, also enjoy your midnight meal. It’s kinda rotten though of you ask me.

*grimm start digging around the walls to fill the hole*

Master:Wait! I’ll tell you anything you want! I can give you power, money, a position with us! Just please don’t-*dragged under the sand*

Jael:*completely ignored all of that* (Alright now I have one more to deal with when I pull myself up. Maybe he’ll just let me leave now that his boss is dead; if not then I’m in for an uphill fight. *grips blade tightly* Oh well, guess there’s no point in wasting time hanging. I’ll just try and catch him by surpri-

“Jael?”

Jael:Huh? *looks up* Auntie Illia?

Illia:*staring down at her with the huntsman’s body over here shoulder* I can’t believe your sister was right to worry. *tosses body into the pit*

Jael:She’s here isn’t she-ahhhh! *yanked up by a chain*

Sienna:*pulling her* How did I know somehow you’d find yourself wrapped up in this!!!!? What do you have to say for yourself?

Jael:Hey sis, how was your first mission?

Sienna:*ear twitches* Try again...

Jael:*cough* Lets not tell mom about this, I love you dearly, and please carry me home. My chest hurts a little and legs feel like jelly.

Sienna:.....Illia?

Illia:Go ahead, I’ll wrap things up here and report what happened. You’re both lucky I find both of you wonderful.

Sienna:What did I do!!!!?

Illia:You didn’t have to do anything. *walking to the airship* Good work today, get some rest. Also I’m telling your father about this when he gets back. *takes off*

Sienna and Jael:.......*slight panic attack* (we’re dead)

Sienna:*staring at Jael* What am I going to do with you?

Jael:You gonna yell at me again? *rubbing her forehead* I sort of have a headache at the moment.

Sienna:Don’t just rub- Ugh you’re hopeless *pulls out a rag and starts cleaning the wound* Why would you touch it when you’re hands are filthy? That’s how infections happen.

Jael:Ow! Hey, don’t be so rough.

Sienna:Don’t get shot in the face and we can avoid all of this. What would’ve happened if you had even a little less aura when it happened?

Jael:*shoulders slouch* Sorry..... I got careless.

Sienna:.....Anything else hurt? How’s your heart?

Jael:Chest is a little tight but I feel fine. I took meds before all this happened; that probably helped. *scanning the knicks and scratches on her sister* what happened to you?

Sienna:What do you mean what happened? I’m the one who dealt with the huntsman. Illia just carried him to the pit for me when she finally caught up. I....sort of jumped out the airship the moment we spotted you. *red*

Jael:You’re so extra......

Sienna:You better be thankful for it! A few more minutes and I might’ve been too late. Take off your kimono, it’s all dirty and has blood on it.

Jael:*doing as she told* I knew it was a good idea to have something under this. How did you know I was out here?

Sienna:I was minding my own business when I heard the worst and loudest sound in my life. Someone going to town on a stupid whistle.

Jael:You actually heard that huh? Didn’t think your ears were that good.

Sienna:*putting Jael on her back* My ears aren’t just for show. They’re just as good, if not better than Blake’s I think. I can’t tell you what has the better hearing between a black panther or a white tiger.

Jael:My money is on our high leader.

Sienna:*stops walking* Hey.....

Jael:I’m just joking sis.

Sienna:Not that, you okay? The intel we got said there was three intruders, but I only got to fight one. So I guess that means you....

Jael:One of them killed the other one. Then I ended up enabling his death so to speak. Guess that means I did sort of kill him though. *voice getting meeker*

Sienna:You, you want to talk about it. That’s pretty heavy stuff.

Jael:Maybe, not really sure, *yawns and leans into her back* don’t feel great about but...not torn up over it. Definitely don’t want to do it again.

Sienna:That’s good to hear. *marches on* can’t have an aspiring huntress wanting to kill for fun. If you need to talk about it, I’m here anytime. Get some rest okay?

Jael:Zzzzzzz

Sienna:*chuckles* Out like a light. Always making me worry, makes me feel like I’m the one with a heart problem.

[Belladonna Residents]

Illia:*barging into Blake’s study* I know you just got back but I have some important in- are you kidding me right now!? *turning pink*

*Blake setting on her desk topless as Sun leans over her about to bite her neck*

Blake:*blushing* Ah! You could’ve knocked!

Sun:*shaggier hair and actually wearing a orange tank top accompanied by a red open buttoned shirt. Just like Jaune he has two wedding rings around his neck, one has a moon while the other a sun* Hey Illia, Blake is back!

[thirteen-beaxhes]

Bumper Cars (Tyrus One Shot)

Summary: Cyrus reflects on his friendship with TJ. 

(Title and fic inspired by song “Bumper Cars” by Alex & Sierra)

Words: 4532

Read on AO3

~~~~~~

In. Don’t think about it.

Out. It’s not worth crying over.

In. You’ll be okay.

Out. It isn’t that big a deal.

Cyrus has spent the last hour, head buried in his pillow, repeating this to himself as he tried to quell the storm in his mind, all set into motion that morning.

Stupid TJ. Stupid Kira. Stupid Costume Day. Stupid emotions.

He was very aware of the fact that his thoughts and thinking were reduced to a childish vocabulary, but he couldn’t care less. His heart was now a shell of its former self, its contents spilt out on the school courtyard, from when he felt it get ripped out of his chest.

He knew he was being dramatic. And frankly, he didn’t give a damn.

As the music went on in his headphones, he shut his eyes, memories playing movies in his mind.

*

You and me, we’re bumper cars

At that point, Cyrus had all but given up trying to get a chocolate chocolate chip muffin. It just wasn’t in his destiny! And the previous day, when he was so close to getting it, of course, the universe decided to plonk mean basketball captain TJ Kippen and his friends right there to cut the line and take all the muffins. (He even stomped on one but Cyrus didn’t like to spend too long thinking about it, the pain was too much to handle.)

Today was another hopeless and fruitless day in the now thrilling reality TV show: “Cyrus tries to get the Goddamn Muffin for once in his life”.

He sighed to Buffy, “Another day, another soul-crushing disappointment.” The defeat was finally getting to him.

He heard Buffy give a short breathy laugh, but soon after he heard her angrily mutter, “Incoming.”

He turned around to see none other than mean basketball captain TJ Kippen heading their way. He knew the basic story. TJ was mean to Buffy right from tryouts, and he never passed her the ball during games either. It was almost as if he pretended she wasn’t part of the team, and Buffy was up to her wit's end as to how to deal with him. The other day, Mr Coleman asked Buffy to tutor someone and lo and behold, the person was TJ. Buffy had said she refused to ever help him, swearing this to Andi and Cyrus over baby taters. But here was TJ. Oh, this wasn’t going to end well.

Cyrus tuned out of the conversation, distracted by the crushing defeat of the great muffin conquest. He just about caught the tail end when TJ finally said in an exasperated tone, “Fine! I’ll pass you the ball.”

Cyrus looked at Buffy in surprised happiness at this new development as TJ asked her if they had a deal.

Then, Buffy did something he really didn’t expect her to do.

She turned around and said, “No.”

What? Why would Buffy do that? He was literally giving her what she…

On no. Oh no no no. He knew what she was going to do, and he was not at all in compliance.

Buffy pulled Cyrus to her by the shoulders, saying, “You get my buddy Cyrus here a chocolate chocolate chip muffin.”

Well good luck now that there is only one left.

Why would Buffy do that to him? Now he looked like a weak dork in front of the captain of the basketball team, literally the most jock person there was. Well, that was exactly who he was, but still!

“You can’t get your own muffin?” TJ asked, his voice incredulous.

As if his self-esteem couldn’t get any lower. Oh well, what did he have to lose?

“I didn’t need this extra level of embarrassment!” Cyrus said to Buffy, trying to keep his voice low. He then turned to TJ, incredibly aware of how he looked to him. “But no.”

“Well I could do it, but. Teach your man how to fish?”

Wait. TJ was actually willing to help him? Huh. Maybe he would be okay after all.

TJ grabbed him by the shoulder saying, “Walk to the muffin like you already own it.”

He heard Buffy start to argue from behind. “He can’t do that.” Actually, hearing her say it, he would have to-

“Hey. Don’t tell him what he can’t do.”

Oh. That’s something he hasn’t really heard.

He could just imagine the shocked and confused look on Buffy’s face, it would be mirroring his own. In order to alleviate the tension a bit, Cyrus quipped, “Dancing with danger is on my bucket list.” Then, looking ahead he asked TJ, “Then?”

TJ shrugged. “Take the muffin.”

“That’s it?!”

“Just don’t let anyone stand in your way.”

Okay, it couldn’t be that easy but oh well, he might as well try it at this point.

Summoning all the confidence in his body, Cyrus started to make his way to the front, after a slight push by TJ. However, as soon as he reached out to take a muffin, all the kids in line started shouting at him. Oh, this was a bad, bad idea. His eyes started tunnelling in until he heard a loud “Hey!”

Suddenly, TJ Kippen was standing next to him, shouting to the other kids, “He’s with me.” He was willing to be associated with a dork like Cyrus for even just a moment? That was truly unexpected, Cyrus thought, as he reached out for the muffin.

“You’re gonna taste so sweet,” he said to the muffin, finally having it sit in his hand was truly a transcendental experience. And he also thought of how he and TJ seemed to get along decently well, and who knows, maybe they could even be friends? He could probably like that, Cyrus thought happily.

Until he heard TJ walk up to Buffy saying, “I’ll need at least a C+.”

Right. They didn’t really know each other. He was just doing it so Buffy would tutor him. Anyway, what did it matter? He had a chocolate chocolate chip muffin in hand for the first time in a while. Life would be okay.

*

The more I try to get to you

Cyrus was not having a good day.

Metcalf had asked him to shoot the video for the school website, and of course, he asked Jonah to help him. Cyrus would take any excuse to hang out with him, but now he wished he hadn’t. Trying to impress Jonah somehow, coupled with the stress of trying to remember his lines and to act naturally for the video, it was making Cyrus fumble, mess up and pour sweat like a fountain. For some reason, his chest felt tight, and the sweat just kept coming, no matter how much he tried to keep cool. Ultimately, he just had to take a breather. He needed a break and a place to calm down.

That’s how he had landed up at the swings. Whenever he needed to think, or to just wallow in self-pity, he would go there and sing his song.

He was busy singing his swing song until he heard a voice behind him say, “Nice song.”

As he came to a stop, he looked up to see TJ. Well, that is unexpected.

“What do you sing when you’re on the slide?”

Funnily enough, Cyrus did happen to have a song for the slide that he sang, as he felt more and more nervous and apprehensive. The song seemed to surprise TJ, letting a small smile come up on Cyrus’ face.

“Chocolate chocolate chip muffin, right?”

TJ remembered who he was?

“Scary basketball guy.”

Cyrus didn’t know where that name came from, but it seemed appropriate to TJ. But he couldn’t help but see the way TJ’s face dropped as he said that.

“Actually, TJ.”

“I know. Cyrus.”

TJ walked around to the other swing while asking, “So, you hang out here a lot?” How was this conversation still going on?

“Only when I’m feeling bad about myself. So, fairly often.” Good, good. Self-deprecation is a good strategy.

TJ gave a small laugh at that.

“Does it help?”

“Helps me.”

Seeing TJ’s hesitation to get on, Cyrus encouraged him, noticing how he too seemed upset and troubled by something. Besides, he wasn’t minding the company.

When TJ got on and started swinging, he could almost see the worries leave him, as he laughed and cheered just as freely as would a little kid.

“I don’t remember why I ever stopped swinging! Come on, get up here.”

“This is as up as I go,” Cyrus said, acutely aware of his fears.

Just then, TJ jumped off his swing and ran up behind Cyrus, pushing him higher and higher.

It was terrifying and exciting at the same time, He had never gone this high before. And when TJ pushed him and ran under the swing yelling, “Underdog!”, the exhilaration was undeniable. Why was TJ being so nice?

This was nice. This was unexpectedly fun, Cyrus thought. Just then, however, Buffy came and began running up to them and TJ’s whole demeanour changed. He tried to run away, and when Buffy caught up to him, he went back to his whole ‘mean’ front. But now Cyrus had seen that there was more to the not-so-scary basketball guy in front of him.  Maybe Cyrus liked hanging out with him and wanted to do it again.

And maybe, just maybe. TJ wished the same.

*

The more we crash apart

“There is nothing wrong with you. And your teacher can’t fail you for having it.”

Cyrus’ words hung in the air for a while, as TJ processed what he had just said. The muffled sounds of the basketball game echoed through the room. Cyrus had noticed TJ standing on the sidelines and had gone up to him, wanting to check up on him. Understandably, TJ snapped at him, walking away into the break room. But that didn’t push Cyrus away in the slightest.

TJ eventually told him that since he was failing math, he was kicked off the team. He also opened up about the possibility of him having dyscalculia, something Cyrus felt glad that TJ felt safe enough to tell him about.

TJ sat straight. “Coleman can’t fail me?”

“You could be playing basketball, right now.”

“And Buffy has been right all along. At least I’ll mean it this time when I tell her. Those really are her two favourite words,” TJ said, laughing slightly.

Maybe that wasn’t the best decision you have ever made, Cyrus thought.

What could you do? He’s a cool guy who also happens to be attractive? You stood no chance, a small part of his brain tells him.

“I shouldn’t have told you that. She’d kill me if she ever found out,” he said, his worry increasing.

“Ah, don’t worry. She won’t find out.”

Cyrus took a deep breath, trying to believe him.

TJ’s voice softened and he said, “You know, she may have been right, but you’re the one who really helped me.”

Hearing him say that sent a warm feeling coursing through Cyrus’ body, as he looked at this unlikely friend of his.

They stayed in that room for the rest of the game, eating cheese puffs and talking about nothing, TJ’s mood significantly lighter. He almost forgot about the game happening outside.

Buffy was mad at him for spending time with TJ over watching her play, but Cyrus tried his best to reason with her. And in the end, some baby taters and public humiliation managed to win her over.

The same could not be said for the next day.

Somehow, Buffy had found out. Somehow, she knew that Cyrus had told TJ about her two favourite words. And now, there was the fallout.

“I can’t be friends with you, Cyrus. Not while you’re friends with TJ.”

“You’re giving me an ultimatum?” She had to be joking, right?

“Him or me. Decide.” Clearly not.

As she walked away from him, Cyrus screamed out to her that he chose her, of course, he chose her, she was his best friend. And it was true, he would choose Buffy.

But that didn’t stop his heart breaking at the thought of no longer being friends with the not-so-scary basketball guy he had come to bond with. Why couldn’t they just have a normal friendship?

*

Round and round, we chase the sparks

After a meltdown over some pancakes and a heart-to-heart in the kitchen, Cyrus and Buffy were talking again, and Cyrus was also still friends with TJ. She still didn’t completely understand it, but she trusted Cyrus to know who he was friends with. Everything was perfect. Until Buffy moved away without a goodbye. And with no reply.

It had been 2 months of radio silence, and Time Capsule Buffy was serving as a great substitute (not). One day, as they sat in the Spoon, TJ came up to them. At first, Andi was not willing to let TJ sit with them. But after he delivered a sincere heartfelt apology to the time capsule, he joined them. Maybe, if Buffy came back, this time things would be different.

They began talking about how Cyrus couldn’t do a somersault, a topic which Cyrus was not willing to discuss but he had just accepted his non-somersaulting fate. But clearly, TJ hadn’t, offering to help Cyrus learn to do one. At that, Andi looked at Cyrus with obvious hints of Oh my god you have a real life Prince Charming here to help you Cy. He really didn’t appreciate it and was thankful that Jonah chose that moment to walk into the Spoon.

When Jonah entered with Natalie, in a clear effort to make Andi jealous, Andi had left Cyrus and TJ alone to deal with the awkwardness of sitting with the 2. So it was a more than welcome relief when TJ asked Cyrus to come to work with him, as more of an escape plan from their current situation.

What Cyrus expected was to have a lot of fun with his friend as he tried and failed to do a somersault. What Cyrus did not expect was to actually do one, and to have his heart race when h hugged said friend after his shift had ended.

Did he…?

No, he wasn’t going through that again.

That was the start of what were easily the best months of his life. Not only did Buffy return, but his crush on Jonah was definitively transformed into a close friendship. Buffy and TJ put apart their differences after TJ delivered the best apology in the world (not debatable).

And if his rap made Cyrus’ heart melt, the confusion was of the good kind.

Even the start of 8th Grade was calm, with them having muffin bets and regular hangouts.

But of course, the good times can’t last with them.

*

But all that seems to lead to

It started out amazing.

Hearing TJ say that he talked about him to his arguably cooler friends, Cyrus was flattered and overjoyed. He never imagined that someone as incredible as TJ Kippen would so proudly talk of him as his friend. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve that.

Turns out, dirt biking has its own appeal. He never thought he would ever go near one in his life, and here he was successfully riding one for a prolonged period of time. Plus, there was the added bonus of TJ teaching him the various parts, his hand brushing over Cyrus’ at regular intervals.

What? He’s gonna take what he gets.

Of course, they can never have a full good day. Of course, TJ’s friend Reed would pull out a gun that he took from his father. Of course, when Cyrus asked TJ to leave with him, he couldn’t, paralysed by the fear of what his friends would say. Of course, just as things were good between them, something would send them hurtling away from each other.

*

Is a pile of broken parts

Funny, how just a week of being made to ignore and block TJ affected Cyrus. He didn’t show it to Andi or Buffy, but he really missed him. He hadn’t realised what an integral part of his life TJ held.

He went to the one place he knew he could try and calm his racing mind: the swings. But even that wasn’t working, because all he could think about was the first time he and TJ connected, right there, all those months ago.

Almost as if summoned from his thoughts, he heard the voice of the one person he wanted to see, but also the person he didn’t want to face.

“Is that swing taken?”

Why was he there? Did he know he would be here? Then, Cyrus remembers the first time at the swings when he told TJ that he knew where to find him. He actually remembered.

“How’d you know I’d be here?”

“I’ve been stopping by, seeing if I could catch you without your bodyguards.”

Well, he was right on the bodyguard part.

He has actually been coming here, waiting for him?

But he remembered Buffy and Andi’s faces looking at him, telling him to not talk to TJ. So even though it killed him, he said, “I’m not supposed to hang out with you. I should go.”

“No, stay,” TJ cut him off, sounding tired and defeated. “Can I at least say I’m sorry first?”

Cyrus simply shrugged, unsure of the direction this would go.

“I didn’t know Reed was going to bring the gun. I, I wouldn’t have gone, and I definitely wouldn’t have brought you.”

Cyrus couldn’t help the soft smile that came on his face. TJ looked genuinely upset, and he believed what he said.

“Now you hate me,” TJ continued, scoffing. “Classic TJ. Anything good I gotta ruin it.”

His heart broke a little more at what TJ said. TJ thought Cyrus was a good thing in his life?

While he was still processing what was said, TJ began to walk away, his head hung low. And in that moment, Cyrus knew that if he let TJ walk away, things wouldn’t go back to how they were. So he latched on to the one thing he realised while TJ had been talking. “TJ.”

TJ turned around, hesitant. He looked so scared, wow.

“You said you were going to apologise.”

“I just did!”

“Actually, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. I said I’m,” TJ started, trailing off as the realisation set in. “Huh. You’re right. Well, sorry for not saying sorry.”

Cyrus could very well have let him go right then, but then again, he didn’t. He wanted to keep talking to TJ and this was seeming to keep him there. Plus, TJ really had to learn to actually say sorry. “So,” Cyrus said, causing TJ to once again turn around and come back. “You’ve apologised for not apologising. But you still haven’t apologised.”

“You can be a little annoying, you know that?” Well, okay then. Two can play this game.

Cyrus got off the swing and took a step towards TJ. “Well, you can be oblivious.” Couldn’t he see what was right there? What he was trying to say, what he was sure he wasn’t good at hiding? (It wasn’t him wanting an apology.)

TJ took another step forward. “Well, you can be very judgy.”

“Well, you can be intimidating.”

They were really close now. He could just…

No, do not think that.

“You know what else you are?” Did he want to hear this?

“What?”

“The only person I can talk to like this.”

Who knew one simple statement could make Cyrus feel so elated and just loved?

Maybe this time, their good times will last.

*

We’re bumper cars, bumper cars

Cyrus really believed that the good times were here to stay.

Things had been good, great. Maybe even perfect. TJ had message him asking to come to the park where he was playing basketball. Cyrus smiled at the memory of the time TJ had tried to teach him some basketball shots there, which of course ended with them on the ground as Cyrus had tripped on his own feet and had grabbed onto TJ but instead ended up dragging him down too.

As he walked up, he saw TJ was talking to a girl. She seemed vaguely familiar.

“Yooooooo!”

TJ turned around, and instantly his face broke into the biggest smile ever. “Cyrus, my man!”

If only.

“Teej, lookin’ good!” Only facts in this house. Or park.

TJ bumped his shoulder into Cyrus’ as he said, “Cyrus, this is Kira. Kira, Cyrus.”

Kira. Now he knew why she looked familiar. She was that girl Buffy had to kick off the team because her attitude was very unsportsmanlike. As soon as she identified him as Buffy’s friend, Cyrus really did not trust her. He was more than happy to leave there as soon as he could.

After they were out of earshot, Cyrus spoke up. “She seemed nice. If the word nice had a different meaning.” TJ gave a quiet laugh at that, his face scrunching in the adorable way that always sent Cyrus’ heart racing.

“So, you’re hanging out now?” he asked, trying as hard as he could to keep any twinge of jealousy away from his voice.

TJ simply shrugged. “Basketball, you know.”

They were silent for a moment when suddenly, TJ turned to him in excitement and a bright smile. “Oh, I gotta ask. What you got going on for Costume Day?”

“Costume Day? You don’t strike me as Costume Day guy,” Cyrus replied, his voice taking on a teasing tone. He was acutely aware of how flirty that sounded too. Hey, they’re friends. This is normal. Normal. Absolutely nothing new.

“I have layers.” If TJ made another Shrek reference, just gotta throw the whole crush away, wait friend what.

TJ shook his head slightly and continued. “Anyway, so I had this idea.”

“Listening.”

“Okay, so one person dresses up in board shorts, sunglasses and flip-flops. And the other dresses up as a salt-shaker!”

“Oh, I get it. Sea Salt!” It was a peculiar costume choice, but as long as it was with TJ, Cyrus was willing to go along with it.

“That would’ve been cool, but no.”

“Oh.” Well, he was stumped. “Hold on, hold on.” Suddenly, it hit him. And along with it, a surge of warmth, what he could only describe as affection. “Summer-salt!”

He wanted to do a costume that was a call back to one of their moments? It’s a surprise Cyrus hadn’t already arranged for their wedding with how he was feeling at that moment.

They both laughed, and continued walking, going back and forth about who was doing what part. Cyrus could hear his brain vaguely reminding him that he had promised to do Mount Rushmore with Andi and his friends, but he pushed it aside. He’d figure it out. He’d do anything if it meant doing this costume with TJ.

Luckily, Buffy said she would figure out the replacement head, leaving Cyrus free to spend the entire night before Costume Day figuring out his Salt costume. He hardly slept, waking up extremely early in the morning to get dressed. He was bursting with happiness as he made his way to school, impatient to see what TJ had put together.

But he felt a pit in his stomach when he saw TJ in black jeans, wearing a camo hoodie. Why wasn’t he in costume?

“Where’s your costume? Without you, this is embarrassingly straightforward.”

TJ’s face looked worn, and his eyes. His eyes were just distraught, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at Cyrus squarely. He said in a shaky voice, “I know, I was gonna…”

Just then, Kira came up to them, cutting him off. “Come on, Kippen. Let’s see it.”

They both unzipped their hoodies to reveal plain white t-shirts with the word ‘Dribble’ scrawled on them. “Double Dribble. You get it?” Kira asked, looking expectantly at Cyrus.

At that moment, the world might as well have removed the ground from under Cyrus’ feet. He found it hard to even respond, all their words were muffled as he tried to wrap his head around what had just happened. All he saw was TJ walking away with Kira, probably off to show the rest of the team his costume.

Why did it feel like the world had just come crashing down around his ears?

Luckily, there was still a spot for him on Mount Rushmore, but right then, Cyrus wanted nothing more than for Costume Day to end.

He thought he would be upset, angry, even his friends thought so.

All he felt was numb.

*

The more I try to get to you

That’s how he was here, in his room, head buried in his pillow, having cried all the tears his body could produce. His eyelids felt heavy and dry, it was an effort to even keep them open. His mom had been calling him for dinner, but at that moment, he couldn’t even think of eating. He couldn’t think of doing anything else.

This was supposed to be the best day. Costume Day always is. This was supposed to be fun.

Cyrus turned over in his bed, facing the ceiling. A stray thought came to him, what was TJ thinking at the time? Did he feel sorry? Was he in the same position as Cyrus?

No, of course, he wasn’t. He is out there, probably talking to Kira. It was his fault, for ever even considering that TJ may feel the same way Cyrus did. That TJ may like him back. Because he didn’t. He wouldn’t.

Those thoughts cut into his heart, sending another sob to rack his body. Why did he have to go and fall for another boy? All it did was send him crashing into the ground.

But it was more than that this time. TJ was Cyrus’ friend. Friend was also inadequate. They just, got each other. They could be completely themselves with one another, without ever having to worry about judgement. TJ had told Cyrus that he was the only person he could ever talk to, and while Cyrus had never said it back, he felt the same with TJ.

So more than having his crush be torn apart, Cyrus had seen his friendship with TJ get damaged, maybe irreparably.

Cyrus laughed slightly. How could he have not seen it coming?

Their friendship had always had more downs than ups. Just as things were fine, things were good, something would come along to cause a bigger problem. Every time they seemed to get closer, to get nearer to each other, they would crash apart. Like bumper cars.

Huh. Bumper cars. That’s what he and TJ were. The ride seems fun, exhilarating, fun. A way to get closer. In reality, it just sends you further and further away with every impact.

And Cyrus just knew, that this time, the impact was too strong for them to ever come back from.

The more we crash apart.

 ~~~~~

I’m sorry for this. But i heard the song and i just had to

You can read my chapter fic here (still in progress!)

[otomates-a]

🌹/🌺 with Selphy? if we wanna indulge the game or maybe with Sofia if we wanna do the crossover times 👀

LET ME KNOW YOUR SHIP IDEAS, I’LL RAMBLE ABOUT THEM.

↪ accepting / @rcguna.

🌺 — platonic ship &  🌹 — romantic ship inputs !

ah rune factory my one tru love & bias… if anything strikes ur fancy feel free to let me know… time to rant for 983475983475 years ok,

SELPHY & RAGUNA

RAGUNA’S RELATIONSHIP AND INTERACTIONS WITH SELPHY ARE SO PURE AND GOOD. selphy has really low self esteem and sort of (unintentionally) has a super low opinion of herself in general bc she knows she’s really ditzy and spacey… raguna really helps lift her up because he’s such a good person. i can imagine if she’s ever putting herself down too much, he’d be the type of person to either gently call her out on it and remind her she has a lot of good character traits or jokingly meet her in the middle and be like “well ur spacey sure but have u seen how ____ i am.” raguna softly helping her raise her confidence… bless

raguna would probably get stood up a lot by her… i’m sobbing… not in the “she intentionally did not meet me when we planned to meet way” but rather in the “oh my god selphy hasn’t eaten or slept in 3 days and she’s literally passed out in the middle of a forest under a tree again time to go scour the area and make sure she’s okay” way KJNHKJHNM i can imagine she’d actually spook him a lot because she takes such … bad care of herself … can’t even take her on adventures because halfway through the cave she’ll keel over and it’s like “SELPHY WTF” “i’m sorry raguna i just realized i have not had a sip of water in 2 days haha it be like that”

honestly tfw the local librarian’s life is in more danger from herself than urs is from monsters, i can see her probably pushing raguna to the point of having to be quite stern sometimes over her putting reading before taking care of herself

selphy thinks about other people more than herself tho so she’d absolutely be a worry-wart over raguna even from the moment they’ve just newly become friends. catch her occasionally sending him care kits full of herbs or materials he needs, medicine, etc, so he can take care of himself if he gets hurt.

she’d also try to give him a good luck protection charm at some point and it’d probably be handmade and also the ugliest thing he’s ever seen in his life but raguna is a good boy so u know he’d take it anyways jknmKJNM

despite everything selphy is extremely intelligent because of all her reading, though. there are times she reads very serious books & gathers info from them, so any time he needs ??? help ??? learning something new about the area or monsters or whatever he doesn’t even need to ask he can just barge into the library like “HEY,,”

selphy being a runaway princess tho i’m sobbing …. she wouldn’t really… ever bring that up until the two of them are extremely close, about how her country is in an uproar because she YEETED out of there and how she doesn’t trust knights or people who “treat her like a princess” …. and that’s why she likes raguna bc… he always just treated her like a person

selphy is??? super extra??? and loves communicating serious things via very fancy handwritten letters? any time she has something of major importance to tell raguna she’d totally send him a letter… and want him to respond back via letter… her literally just stopping anette each morning like “haha take this to raguna thanks!” game mechanics aside on an expressly #romantic note if feelings were ever confessed, it would mean more to her written on paper and u could bet the moment one of them sent that letter the other would probably come running and bust down their door to then Verbally Discuss It KJHNMKHJNM

she’s tol at 5′9″ she can look u directly in the eyes raguna … if she wears heels that day she’ll end up slightly taller than him so u better be ready to stand on some stairs buddy

the real danger to their relationship would be her passing out while reading in the bath and drowning. inb4 raguna begs melody to keep an eye on her any time she’s at the bathhouse 😂

bonus romance exclusive concept : selphy kissing raguna’s palm and saying it’s a spell to keep him safe during his daily adventures. she knows, she’s an expert.

SOFIA & RAGUNA

OH GOD FIRST IMPRESSIONS WITH SOFIA ARE ALWAYS…. they’re special. i feel like raguna would probably catch on a lot quicker than most, though. he seems like one of the few people who wouldn’t need it explained to him, he’d just pick up on it early on?? bc sofia’s expressions and actions never match how cruel her words are and raguna generally sees the best in people, so he’d likely be perceptive enough to notice that and be like “????????? are you speaking in opposites wtf weird but okay!”

that being said WOW SOFIA WOULD NOT KNOW HOW TO REACT TO RAGUNA AT FIRST because people “getting her” and being kind towards her (or, at least, accepting her as she is without making it weird, rather) is something she’s never really experienced. she would think he’s super weird and just messing with her… which would foster the doubt in the back of her mind that he actually hates her and is just being nice bc he’s nice to everyone, which is something he’d have to convince her she’s wrong about

after she adjusts to him though she’d love tagging along with him on adventures and would always be up for helping him out any time he leaves town, whether it be to just gather materials or battle monsters.

sofia doesn’t have many friends in the sense that she feels she annoys most people, so raguna being as sweet & outgoing as he is would catch her off guard most times … even small gestures of friendship fluster her because she doesn’t know what to make of it. hanging out with her would definitely feel special even if they’re doing something stupid, because just seeing him ??? would brighten her day ??? like she can’t believe someone as great as him would want to spend time with a liar like her

she will gift him garbage. it will be the worst gifts he ever gets, but she will hope he likes it… if he actually keeps any of it and she visits his house or anything and sees it, she will absolutely get teary eyed.

she will also absolutely keep anything he gifts her and display it in her room bc “raguna is (not special at all) and she (will always immediately throw away any useless give he gives her)”

she would have some insecurities ofc… she already thinks that the way she speaks causes people to dislike her, so even after convincing her that he doesn’t hate her, whether it be a strong friendship or romance that blossomed between them, he’d have to let her know that he’s okay with who she is. she’d undoubtedly go through a period of time where she tries to change herself to speak normally, then psyche herself out doing it. that scene where she says “i love you!” normally and the protag thinks she’s saying she hates him is canon no matter the relationship, #growingpains KJNHMKHJNM

but also eventually if raguna ever told her he loves her (either platonically or romantically, she’s struck through the kokoro by both) she’ll cry. a lot. but like happy cry. bonus points she’d cling to him if he threw in a point that he likes her BECAUSE of who she is

she’s literally never even held a hand before tbh so if their hands even accidentally brushed against each other she’d get so flustered raguna might have to worry she’s going to die

she’s only 5′0″, if raguna wants to kiss or hug or whatever, he’s either got to lean all the way hecking down or lift her up and that’s aesthetic

bonus romance exclusive concept : raguna having to slowly work his way up to showing his affection bc she’s so shy. first he has to just link pinkies with her. then eventually he can hold her hand. then lace their fingers. then link their arms. then he can kiss her knuckles. then her hand, then her cheek, etc, etc… he has to take Smol Steps and it’s cute.

WILL SMITH POSES. THERE U GO I #TRIEDMYBEST.

[vampwrrrmistresslist]

Haunted 2

A/N:  This is the second chapter for a finished series, the links for which are on my mistresslist. 

Lying in bed that night, you knew that you should be frightened, but you weren’t.  Oliver, on the other hand…you buried your nose in the covers to hide your smile.  Oliver had been terrified.  Sure, he covered it with bluster, and bravado, ripping the computer from the desk, and flinging it across the room, hurting his injured arm in the process, but you had seen it.  That bright shine of fear in his eyes.  Beautiful.

Of course none of this helped his mood.  He had been short and snappish with you all day, far more than usual, the only difference being that while he normally tried to maintain a veneer of civility, which could wear away instantly, now he was all mouth and no trousers.  The pointed comments dug at your already low self-esteem, but you’d take them any day over another bruise to cover, another split lip to explain away, another dislocated joint to nurse. 

Kicking your legs excitedly under the covers, you laughed silently.  Maybe the house was haunted. Maybe this would all end in disaster, you didn’t know.  All you knew was, for the first time in months, you were starting to feel safe again.  Wrapping your arms around yourself, you indulged in a long soundless sigh.  

You turned over and grabbed your phone, ready to finally catch up on some light reading.  This time, you made it three chapters into the fourth book of the Vampire Huntress series before you closed your eyes to blink, and were out like a light.

It’s you

He nodded.  

Why?

Shrugging, he turned, not meeting your eyes.  No one deserves to be treated like that.  

I don’t understand.

He turned back, tossing his hair out of his eyes, and dimpling.  Don’t try.  Isn’t this nice?  It’s quiet here.  It’s safe, here.  I made this for you.  

You nodded, but you were wary.  Are you going to hurt us?

I would never hurt you!

You frightened him.

But not you.

No.  Not me.

***

Morning dawned, and you stretched, deliciously well-rested.  Well-rested? Leaving your room, you tiptoed to check on Oliver.  He was curled into a ball on the bed, covers over his head, snoring slightly.  

Wrinkling your nose derisively, you went to start breakfast.  

Oliver stumbled in just as you were setting the table, sitting heavily down in a chair, hair wild, still in his pajamas.  You expressed no surprise, but inside your eyebrows were dusting your hairline.  Oliver never stayed in his pajamas after rising.  The only time he was anything less than perfectly turned out is when he was deathly sick  “Did you hear that, last night?” he asked hoarsely.

“Hear what?”

“It was like a steady…smacking noise.  Like someone walking around my room, over and over, slowly slapping their hand against the wall, all night.”

“I’m sorry. I heard nothing.”

Oliver nodded distractedly, and began to eat.  That, in itself was surprising, as well.  Usually, he couldn’t resist a well-placed barb referencing your ostensible obliviousness.  

Reaching inside your pocket, you palmed the cuff-links.  They pulsed warmly in your hand.  So.  “What time do we have to be at sajangnim’s house?”

“Hm?”

Again, you hid your surprise at his level of distraction.  Usually Oliver was like a shark, hearing everything everyone said, with a perfect answer at the ready.  “What time do we have to be at sajangnim’s house, for dinner?”

He thought a moment.  “Yes, the dinner.  Five o’clock.”

Nodding, you leaned forward to begin your breakfast.

***

Upon your arrival at sajangnim’s house, Oliver was once more perfectly turned out.  You could see your face in the shine of his shoes.  

He rang the buzzer at the gate and, after identifying himself, you were buzzed inside the courtyard.  

Samonim greeted you at the door, looking as poised and elegant as ever. “Welcome!  Don’t you look lovely, my dear!” she gave you air kisses, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.  

“Thank you, samonim.  You’re looking as beautiful, as ever.”  That was an understatement.  The woman was too beautiful to be human, and the mere idea of the staggering amount of work and preparation that must go into that level of perfection was exhausting.

“You’re too kind.  Please, come inside!”

Following her, you found sajangnim in the living room, setting up the table for baduk. You could feel Oliver’s tension at your back.  He hated losing, and was a pretty good baduk player, but he was also smart enough not to beat his boss.  

“Welcome, welcome!” sajangnim bellowed off-handedly, waving you both closer.  “Are you ready to lose, Oliver-sshi?”

Oliver waggled a perfectly manicured finger.  “I don’t know.  I may beat you, yet, sajangnim!”

“Eh, well, we’ll see, we’ll see,” sajangnim muttered, still carefully lining up the pieces.

The night progressed as dully as you had imagined it would, with samonim name dropping–uselessly, as you didn’t know any of the people she mentioned–and detailing her last several major purchases, and sajangnim beating Oliver in three successive games, before dinner was served.  

At least the dinner was delicious.  You couldn’t fault the ahjumma who had prepared and served it, and you ate everything with relish.  

“Your girlfriend eats well!” sajangnim said to Oliver.  He had already downed 9 shots of soju.

Oliver turned to you, his eyes full of censure.  

Sajangnim waved a hand at you.  “Please, eat more!  I love to see young people enjoying their food.  Everyone’s so worried about their figures nowadays.  Just eat healthily, and you’ll be fine!”  

You surreptitiously eyed his wife.  The woman was a stick.  Well…a very elegant, very expensive stick. Stomach twisting, you continued to eat, but at a much slower rate.  Honestly, you wished that you were as thin as she.  You knew that Oliver did.  Oliver liked neat things, and any spare flesh was up for attack.  He kept himself up to stringent standards, and expected everyone else to do the same.  You looked down, trying to keep your face neutral, trying to hide your distress.  You knew that you would hear about this tonight.

***

The car was silent as Oliver drove home, his jaw tight.  

You watched the buildings pass, thinking of where your life would have been had you not decided to follow him.  

He broke the silence.  “Must you embarrass me everywhere we go?”

“I’m sorry,” you said dully.  The phrase no longer held any meaning.  

“Don’t be sorry, be better!  Do better!  Is it so hard to behave like a decent human being?!”

“I don’t think that sajangnim was being sarcastic,” you ventured.

Oliver’s voice rose in disbelief.  It had been months since you had actually answered one of his patented wickedly barbed rhetorical questions.  “Are you kidding me?!” he yelled, his face turning a mottled shade of scarlet.  “That’s called good breeding, or are you too stupid to even realize when someone is being polite?”

Without thinking, you sighed.  

Oliver turned to you, his face twisted.   “Are you exasperated?  Are you angry?  Do you think that you’ve done anything right?!  You know what, when we get home, I’ll give you something to sigh about!”  Turning back to the street, he gave a sudden shriek, and sharply turned the wheel.  

You looked forward just in time to see the man from your dreams, standing casually in the street.  The car went through him, veered to the side, and hit the back of another vehicle that had stopped at a stoplight.  

Oliver’s head crashed into the steering wheel, but your airbag deployed.  You lay there in surprise for several moments.  You had been given to understand that being struck by an airbag was anything but pleasant, and yet it had seemed as if there were almost a cushion of air between you and it, absorbing most of the impact of the blow.  Looking over, you saw Oliver sit up groggily, then look about wildly.  Turning to you, he rasped, “Did you see it?”

“See what?”

“That thing in the street?”

You were silent.  A sharp rap on the window brought your attention to the officer standing beside Oliver’s door.  He didn’t look pleased.  

Oliver rolled down the window.  “Officer, there’s a thing in the street; you have to go check!”

“A…thing,” the officer rejoined laconically.

“Yes, sir!” Oliver said, nodding hysterically.  

“Alright.  Would you care to describe for what sort of…thing I should be looking?”

“It looked like a man, but…but…a dead man!”

“A dead man.”  Both the officer’s expression, and voice, were flat.

Oliver nodded again, peering beyond the car to see if he could still see the apparition.  “It was horrible!  He was all putrescent and grey, and his eyes…”

The officer stared at Oliver, his expression deadpan.  “You’re telling me that you swerved to avoid a…zombie?”

“What?  No, that’s ridiculous!  I mean, I know that what I’m saying sounds ridiculous, but–”

The officer leaned closer, and sniffed.  “Sir, have you been drinking?”

Oliver’s mouth worked, but nothing emerged.  “Sir, I had a few drinks with dinner, but I assure you that I’m not–”

“Please step out of the car.”

Oliver looked over at you, his expression helpless.  

You widened your eyes in apparent sympathy, trying to convey that there was nothing that you could do.  

Despite the scent of soju still lingering on Oliver’s breath, he passed the sobriety test with nothing more than a reckless driving ticket.  Since the car wasn’t wrecked, he was allowed to drive it home, though it would need some body work.

***

You were stiff as you entered the house, nervous that he would take all of this out on you.  

Oliver, however, wordlessly wandered into the master bedroom, and quietly shut the door.

As you lay in bed, having taken a couple of sleeping pills to ensure that you would fall asleep quickly, you thought over the evening’s events. You still weren’t frightened, but the manifestations were escalating, and it was past time to find out what was happening.  You had watched enough horror movies to know that it was the complacent one, the one who insisted that nothing was going on, who usually ended up dead, first. Though you weren’t particularly fond of your currently life, you had no desire for it to end.  

You chuckled mirthlessly.  The funny thing was, after living with the real boogie man for so long, you couldn’t really muster the enough energy to be frightened of anything else.  Yawning, you felt your muscles relax as tiredness washed over you in waves.  They dragged you under, pulled you further from consciousness, until–

***

Are you alright?

I’m fine.  Was that you, tonight?

He nodded, looking down at his shoes.  I thought that he was going to hit you.

So, you made him crash?

He looked up, panic distorting his features.  I didn’t think that he was going to crash!  I thought that he would just be frightened, and stop thinking about yelling at you.  I didn’t…I didn’t really think it though…I’m sorry.  He hung his head.  I tried to keep you safe.

So…that was you, too?  With the airbag?

He nodded.  When I realized what was happening, I just…I can’t stand the idea of you being hurt.  

Why do you care so much?

I know what it’s like.

***

Your eyes opened to the dark.  A soft shuffling noise was coming from the living room.  Climbing out of bed to investigate, you saw Oliver, wide-eyed, sitting on the couch, casting his gaze about him as if there were a threat behind every shadow.  You checked your watch.  3 AM. Silently, you closed the door, and crawled back into bed.  Closing your eyes, you were asleep almost immediately, and–

***

You stared up at him in silent shock.  You?

He looked so ashamed.  Reluctantly, he nodded again, not looking at you.

I’m sorry, but…how?

His eyes, shining with tears, met yours.  Harabeoji.  Abeoji.  

You faltered.  Then, reaching out a hand, you grasped him firmly by the arm.  Not knowing what else to do, you just stood there, connected. You’re…you’re…

I’m dead.  

I’m so sorry.  It was the first time in months that those words held any sincerity.  Are you…are you…a vengeful ghost?

He smiled sadly, then put a hand over yours.  I wasn’t.  Until I saw how he was treating you that first night, how he spoke to you.  It all sounded so familiar.  

How?

Can’t you guess?

Thinking a moment.  Then, The cuff-links.  

He flashed a brief, sad grin at you.  

I don’t understand…  

He sighed, and the formless void that you had heretofore not even noticed morphed and clarified into a beach at sunset.  Taking your hand, he began to slowly guide you along the shore.  My family was–is–poor.  I mentioned abeoji and harabeoji, but omoni was abusive, as well.  The only person who was ever kind to me was halmoni, but she was old, and broken, and she couldn’t protect me.  

I used to wake up before dawn to go to school to study, so that I could spend as much time away, as possible. The janitors would feed me.  As soon as I was old enough, I got a job, and that guaranteed that I was at home even less. By senior year, all that studying paid off, and I got a full scholarship to university.  

I had saved almost all of the money that I had made, and so I moved away.  I was selfish.  I never thought about my grandmother, only myself.  Years later, after school, grad school, and the military–after I finally had a good job, I decided to visit halmoni.  I was hoping…I was hoping that she would come with me…  He laughed regretfully.  It was my birthday…

When I came home, halmoni was alone.  She was so happy to see me…  I wanted to ask her to come with me, but before I could, she said that she had something for me…

The cuff-links.  

Bestirring himself, he nodded.  She had saved for years, and then when I never came back, she had kept them, hoping that I would return one day, so that she could give me something nice…to let me know that she was proud of me…  

His hand tightened on yours, but you said nothing.

He sighed, and dropped his hand, seemingly realizing that he had been gripping you too tightly.  You slid your hand back inside his, and he looked down at you, tears turning his eyelashes into stars.  

Smiling tentatively up at him, you nodded encouragingly.  Take your time.

You walked along in silence for a long while.  

Finally, sighing, he continued.  She agreed.  I had gone upstairs to start packing for her, when I heard it.  Those sounds…they were so familiar. I ran downstairs, and harabeoji was beating her…again.  This time, I couldn’t take it.  I was bigger than him, now, and I…broke.  

I hauled him off of her, and hurled him across the room.  I was yelling–and then I was on him–hitting him over, and over.  All I could see was red, all I could hear were halmoni’s tears.  I didn’t even know that abeoji was there, until he hit me…right across the back of my neck…  I don’t…really remember a lot after that, except flashes, and pain.  I was finally bigger and stronger than either of them, but…I couldn’t win against the both of them.  

The last thing that I remember…is lying there…and everything was so dark…all I could see was halmoni…  She was in the corner, and she was crying…  I could tell that her leg was broken…  She was trying to drag herself over to me, but she kept slipping, in…  She was all I could see.  She was so light…like she was filled with light–like she was made of it…  Then all I could see were her eyes, but they were so beautiful that I didn’t mind.  I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t feel my body, but I could feel her love.  

Tears were silently rolling down your cheeks, and you self-consciously brushed them away.  

He gathered you to his chest, stroking the back of your hair, slowly rubbing your back, as you gripped his shirt, sobbing for his loss.  

***

The next morning, you found Oliver still on the couch, sleeping, though there were dark circles under his eyes.  Though you were loath to touch him, you tapped him on the shoulder.  “Oliver.  It’s time to wake up. You’re going to be late for work.”

He awoke all at once, flailing.

You ducked out of the way of his spastic limbs, holding up your arms in self-defense.  

Realizing that it was just you, he noticeably relaxed.  “Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing a hand roughly over his face.  “I thought…never-mind.  Did you…” he looked up at you, his voice tentative.  “Did you hear anything…last night?”

“I took some sleeping pills.  I didn’t hear anything unusual.”

“It was like a scratching,” he muttered, no longer paying attention to you.  “All night…in the walls…back and forth, like someone crawling, and scratching, scratching to get in…”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

He seemed to return to himself.  “Hm?  Oh…never-mind.  I don’t have time for this.  I have to get ready for work.”  Throwing off the covers, he strode to the master bedroom, but hesitated just outside the door. “You’re going to call the HVAC guy today, right?  About the thermostat?”

“Sure,” you offered, not adding that he knew very well that there was nothing wrong with the thermostat.  “I’ll call in, let them know that I’m not coming today.”

He nodded.  Visibly gathering his courage, he stepped into the room.  

You were just turning to start coffee, when you heard a low, pained moan. Following the sound, you found Oliver in the middle of the master bedroom, pupils dilated, face sheened with sweat as his eyes slowly surveyed the room.  You tracked his gaze.  

The walls were covered in scratches, gouges.  Most of them were concentrated about two feet off of the floor, as if something had been crawling, or crouching, and scratching.  Leaning your head outside, you saw that the wallpaper in the hallway, and the living room had suffered the same fate.  Though most of the scratches were near the floor, there were a few here and there further up, and a few improbably high up the walls, as if whatever it was didn’t have to obey the same rules of gravity.

Turning, you rushed to the guest room, where you had slept.  It was clear.

Returning to the master bedroom, you noticed that Oliver’s shaking breaths were escaping in white puffs, as if he were outside on a freezing winter’s night, yet the temperature for you was perfectly fine.  

Turning, he looked at you, his eyes wide, and staring.  When he spoke, however, his voice was steady.  “While you’re at it, call someone to come fix this wallpaper too, alright?”  He looked as if he were pushing through by sheer grit.

You nodded.  

He turned, walked to the bathroom, and quietly closed the door.  

As you left, you heard soft, plaintive sounds coming from the restroom.  Oliver was crying.

You smiled.

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