#infinitesimal!sides

[bilgisticallykosher]

A Giant Miscommunication chapter 2

A Small Point of Contention

First chapter | Masterpost | Next chapter

My discord | AO3

Warnings: Mentions of eating people, revenge, cursing

Words: 4155

Hey remember that one g/t one shot that ended in a cliffhanger that nobody paid attention to? You should have paid attention to it.

Virgil continued the walk back to his house with a sigh. He had certainly had an exciting day. And then night. And then day again. He shook his head with a slight upturn of his lips, amused by the turn of events everything had taken. Last night had been… stressful, to say the least. Not only had he been worried about making sure his guest- Roman- would make it, and be safe, but the things that he'd thought about Virgil's motives while feverish made him wince.

Of course, he'd woken with an almost completely different personality in the morning. Well, he amended, still dramatic, he thought with a chuckle. But he'd been personable, appreciative, really overly complimentary, and overall had just, seen Virgil for who he was as opposed to what he was. It'd been nice.

… He wondered if he was actually going to come back.

He shook his head back and forth slightly like he was trying to shake the thought out of his brain. No, he'd said that he would, and Virgil had to believe that. Even if he thought that there was a possibility that by the time all the snow melted Roman would either forget, or decide the trip wouldn't be worth it, or that he wasn't worth it, or- at any rate, Virgil definitely knew that he wanted him to come back. It wasn't like he had all that many friends. And he had enjoyed their time together.

With another sigh, he approached his house, realizing that he'd never finished cleaning up after the storm. Well, he might as well do it now.

~~~~~

He finished up outside, even shoveling a bit in case he had to go outside again, and was exhausted enough that he headed inside for a nap. He was just about as shocked as he was annoyed when he was abruptly woken up an hour later.

"HEY, GIGANTOR!" The voice called out, and Virgil shot up in bed.

"Wha- huh?" He blinked, bleary-eyed as he tried to focus on finding the source.

"Ha! Finally up, Sleeping Ugly?" The voice was vaguely familiar, and he looked down, finally spotting the human.

The very familiar-looking human. Roman.

"What?" His eyes widened and then narrowed as he processed what he was saying. "What are you doing here?" And why was he back so soon?

"Oh, don't play coy with me, I don't get along with fish very well." He saw him grin, wide and toothy. "I out-smell them." He walked closer to the bed wielding a large, even compared to a human, ball on a stick, covered in spikes, and he pointed it Virgil's direction. "Now, it's time for you to pay for your crimes!" Was that a weapon?

"What are you talking about?" He asked, instead, swinging his feet over the side, heart racing at the accusation. He didn't understand what was happening, even as he saw Roman take a few steps back from him as he started shifting forward to get out of bed.

"You heard me, Attack on Frighten," he puffed himself up, waving his weapon. "I'm here to give you your comeuppance, up your pants, for what you've done!" His insides felt like they were twisting in on themselves, and he stood, taking a few steps, intending to go towards Roman to try and figure out what had changed, other than seemingly his clothing.

He ran away instead, laughing loudly, right out of the room and Virgil's face fell completely. Maybe… maybe he'd been faking this morning. But that didn't make any sense, he'd seemed relaxed, he'd bantered with him, he'd complimented him, as mortifying as that'd been, he'd teased him with no trace of fear. Not that he seemed overly afraid now-

What if he was luring him into a trap? He'd known how the towns around the forest felt about giants, none of it good, but to go through all that, just to, what get an army to try and fight him? He hesitated, straining his ears. He didn't hear anything aside from the sound of Roman making noise as he ran through the kitchen. He was on edge, but he had to figure out what was going on. He sharply took in a breath and tried to regulate his breathing as he'd been taught. Well, that was better, he supposed.

He looked out his window and didn't see anyone else, and as he checked every window that he passed (admittedly not many), he found them all absent of people. So, Roman had come back alone, at least, although that didn't do much to assure him. He finally reached the kitchen, which felt like it took forever, and yet no time at all. He found him trying to clamber up onto the table from the seat of the chair via the backrest. With his weapon still in his hand. Virgil walked over.

"That's a little above your abilities, there," he sneered, feeling a little justified in his derision, "literally."

"Oh, yes" he was breathing hard while struggling. "Very funny, ha," he panted, "freaking ha!" He gave up trying to climb up, "Well if I were really that short, would I be able to do this?!" And with that, he tried leaping from his position to try and land on the table. He was very obviously going to miss.

Despite how hurt and confused Virgil was from how he was acting, he didn't want him to be hurt in a much more physical way- heck, that was why they'd met in the first place. He immediately surged forward to cup his hands under him as he cackled out loud in a way that didn't suit the situation at all. He hit his hand with a small grunt, but seemed otherwise unaffected, judging by the grin on his face. Although…something looked different. Virgil moved his hands onto the table so that he could get off. Instead, he stood and wielded his weapon towards his face again.

"Thanks for the hand, Bigger-Than-Me Foot," despite his accusations, he stayed firmly planted in his hands, still for once, despite the waving morningstar, and Virgil was able to get a better look at him. And there was definitely something different about him. He squinted at him. When did he get a mustache?! "But now you're going to tell me what you did to my brother!" And just like that, relief washed over Virgil like a hot shower on a cold day. He exhaled so harshly that it blew Roman's- Roman's brother's hair all over, swaying him slightly.

"Brother?" He wheezed out. He was rewarded with a full-body eye roll.

"Yeah, Bohe-meathead, a guy that looks just like me, no mustache, not as handsome, and wearing something like this?" And he reached into his pocket, whipping something out, which made Virgil flinch. Roman's brother gave an unimpressed eyebrow raise, holding out what looked like a small (even relatively) scrap of a familiar bright red fabric. Virgil was trying desperately not to do something really stupid like shout in joy or cry from the relief, but instead, he just took a moment to breathe, evening out his oxygen intake, and lowering his heart rate, becoming un-tense again. Roman's brother started wriggling on his hands, impatient.

"Roman," Virgil eventually managed, and his brother raised an eyebrow.

"Remus, actually. We're twins." He blinked and then something occurred to him, and he took a step forward, speaking excitedly "So you have seen him!" His grin turned into more of a leer, and he stepped forward. "What'd you do with him? Crush him? Drop him from up high? Break him in half? Are these crumbs all over the table," he gestured at the mess from breakfast that he'd forgotten about, "little leftover bits of Roman?" He was now about at the heel of his hand.

"No!" Virgil scowled. "And if you're seeking vengeance, why are you so happy at the idea that I killed him," he challenged. Remus just rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on, mega Mondo, I may be a dumb, stupid idiot, but I'm not dumb," he waved a hand idly, "I figured out when I was younger that you weren't the image of the giant purple people eater everyone touted." He continued, looking more bored than anything despite literally being in Virgil's grasp. "Otherwise there'd've been way more missing people. And a lot more missing peoples' bones." He grinned suddenly again. "Unless you eat the bones, too! I'll bet our measly little femurs wouldn't pose much of a threat to those teeth, huh?" He looked like he was trying to grab at Virgil's mouth, and he brought his head back further out of range. "Plus, extra calcium. You're a growing boy," he practically cooed at him.

"Stop," Virgil spat, feeling his stomach churning at what he was suggesting. Which was of course why his stomach proceeded to growl. That stopped Remus in his rambling, becoming quiet, smile falling slightly. He blinked up at him.

"Holy shit, did you actually eat him?"

"NO!" He glared at him, trying to summon all his scare tactics; he growled, grabbing him around his middle all too easily as his weapon fell at the wayside, and loomed over him, dark, and foreboding, voice thunderous. "Now you listen," Remus wiggled lightly in his grasp, but then looked up, calmer than he'd seen- well, either of them. "Roman came here last night. He was sick, then he got better. He was on his way back this morning," he wasn't sure why he didn't tell him how involved he was with getting him back, but he didn't want to hear whatever garbage accusation that would surely come out of his mouth. "And then I assume he went home. But he's not here, so go away."

"Hard to go away if you're busy fisting me, Shyclops." He responded instantly, oddly sedate. Maybe he'd actually scared him. He didn't know how to feel about that, but he did loosen his grip, and Remus brought his hand into its own fist, and up to his chin. "So, he left this morning, huh. Must have missed him in the forest, plus there was that weird earthquake-y thing that…"

He trailed off, slowly raising his head to look up at Virgil, his grin returned, almost predatory. "Did you walk him home?" Virgil blanched. Was he going to run back to his town to get back up? To let them know he had been close? He put on a sneer again and brought him towards his face, trying to quell the rising panic he felt.

"Thought you didn't wanna be my dinner, but I guess you changed your mind, after all, huh." He boomed, not loudly; he didn't have to be. His voice resonated. Remus's eyes went wide, mouth slack, and then immediately filled with what could only be glee.

"YOU DID, DIDN'T YOU!" He shrieked, his face split into a grin, and then he leaned in closer. "Also, that thing you did with your voice was really cool, you should teach me how to do that." Virgil growled, bringing him right to his mouth. He opened it a little bit, just enough, and then-

"REMUS!" Virgil barely repressed a jump, and oh no, he knew that voice. He and Remus looked down at the ground, and sure enough, Roman, in the same clothes as this morning, was looking up at Virgil, and glaring, while visibly breathing hard. "What on Earth do you think you're doing?!" Virgil's heart sank, as he felt the blood drain from his face. The very thing he'd been worried about with Remus's arrival had surely been sealed by Roman walking in on him threatening to eat his brother.

"Ro Bro!" Remus called back to him in delight, apparently completely unconcerned by his proximity to Virgil's teeth. He turned back to Virgil, papping him on the fingers around his body with his hand. "Hey, Vore-acious appetite, lemme down on the floor." Virgil complied immediately, bringing him down to Roman's level, and opening his palm up to let him walk off. He glanced at Roman, who was still glaring, but was interrupted by Remus flying at him in a tackling hug.

"What- agh!" He inhaled, standing his ground, and hugged him back. "Yes, yes, very nice to see you, too. Now, what were you doing to Virgil?" Virgil stiffened. He…wasn't angry at him?

"Oh, sure, place the blame on your poor, innocent brother," he batted his eyelashes, "not the horrible, terrible monster that had me in his grip!" He put a hand on his forehead, going lax in Roman's grip. Roman dropped him. "Oh, so, hey," he seemed completely unconcerned with being on the floor, "was he telling the truth about being your nurse then walking you home?" Roman rolled his eyes and turned to Virgil.

"Sorry about him," Virgil flinched. Wow, he…really wasn't angry with him? "I appreciate you watching him, especially since you didn't know that I was coming to get him."

"Fuck you, I'm a delight!" That sounded familiar. He smirked and slowly raised an eyebrow at Roman, who flushed red.

"I- That's different, it's actually true for me," he huffed, crossing his arms.

"Mhmm," Virgil hummed, amused. Roman coughed.

"But anyway, uh. Thanks again." He smiled, then shifted. "Incidentally, you weren't actually going to eat him, were you?"

"No," he responded firmly and immediately, "I promise, I wouldn't-" but Roman cut off his protest.

"Good, because I'm pretty sure he's poisonous," he grinned up at him. A startled laugh slipped its way out of Virgil's mouth.

"I take that as a compliment!" Remus's smug voice cut through, and he rolled over on the floor a few times before he stood up. "How'd you know to come here, anyway?" Roman rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you know how mom and dad are," he waved his hand vaguely. "So I made it all the way home before I found out you'd gone out to look for me." He brushed off his shoulder a bit. "I wasn't sure that you'd wind up here, but at least I knew where Virgil lived, so I figured I could ask him if he'd seen you, or, uh, maybe if he wouldn't mind helping me look for you?" He turned to Virgil with a grin that he probably hoped was more charming than sheepish. "Sorry." Virgil snorted.

"Eh." He half-shrugged. "I pro'lly would've done it," he agreed easily. But Remus looked at him with sudden and extreme interest.

"Oh?" He purred at him, "is that so?" Ugh, what was that look he was giving him, this guy was so weird.

"Remus, stop that, leave him alone!" Remus just switched his head towards his brother, not changing his expression at all. "And wipe that grin off your face."

"Try chiseling it off, it'd be more effective," yet his face became haughty and smug, raising an eyebrow.

"Ugh." Roman looked at Virgil again, "once more, I'm so sorry for him, but we can leave now." He shifted on his feet. "I know it hasn't been that long, but it was nice to see you ag-"

"I'll walk you home," Virgil blurted out.

"-ain. What?" Roman blinked as he processed it.

"I can take you back," Virgil rephrased, ignoring Remus's face as his face started to burn with mild embarrassment. "Like I did before so that you don't have to walk through the snow again."

"Oh, well." Roman smiled, "I wasn't going to ask, but that would be nice, if you don't mind." Virgil shook his head.

"Nah, it's no big deal," he assured him. "Just, it'll be halfway again." Even with Remus being overall okay with him, he didn't trust being seen by anyone in the nearby towns.

"Thank-"

"Wow, you're dropping us off in the middle of the woods," Remus lamented, "what terrible service!" Roman smacked his arm, "Ow!" He said happily.

"Technically I'm the middle of the woods," Virgil shot back, "and sorry, but I'm not exactly eager to get swarmed by a bunch of lunatic giant hunters, or whatever." Remus scoffed.

"I'll have you know I've got my own special brand of lunacy. I'm one of a kind, here!" He looked at Roman and exchanged looks, "Well, alright, okay. I guess that makes sense." And he seemed to be unable to resist adding, "but I'm giving you only two out of five stars for service." He stuck his tongue out.

"Put that back inside your mouth, even you don't know where that thing's been." Remus waggled it at his brother petulantly, and then pulled it back inside with a schwip schwip schwip! Virgil wrinkled his nose.

"And again, no talking about me to anyone," Virgil reminded Roman, then considered the circumstances. "If you're talking to each other, do it when you're sure you're alone." Roman frowned, and Remus raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything. It was a little unsettling, honestly. Then he realized that Roman was making facial expressions back at him, and Remus was also responding silently. Were they communicating? Weird. But kind of cool. He'd heard that twins had 'telepathy' but watching it in front of him like this made him really believe that it was real. He wondered if he could ask for more information from-

"Virgil," Roman stated, firm. His attention was drawn back to the scene in front of him, the two now looking up at him again. "About the whole 'tell no one about you exist' thing," he began.

"No." Virgil was just as firm.

"Would you just wait for me to-"

"No." He interrupted. "If people start to know about me, it'll affect me, and just be a bother." He shook his head slowly. "They won't believe that I don't mean any harm, and then they'll push my limits, until I do something bad," although he mentally shuddered at the idea of him hurting someone accidentally, "and then they'll use it as evidence against me, and I'll have to move, or worse." His mind helpfully supplied him with potential images of him in a comically small jail, or tied up in ropes, or chains, or- "Plus, even if some people know, it's not like the laws around this area would change," he snorted.

Just because he was on the edges of the nearby town, didn't mean that he wasn't informed. He knew that giants and other entities like him were considered enemies of the humans, and that the leaders of each town had it out for anything that was a potential danger, intent or no. Heck, that was where all the stories of giant-based terror had sprung from. Giants had been spotted and the people who encountered them had feared them, spread the word of their tales, greatly extrapolated, until they'd become just that; tales. Sure, some of the giants had probably fought back against those that had come to kill them, or even had been aggressive to start with.

But Virgil certainly wasn't. And the only other giant he knew was even less likely to hurt a human than he was. But the leaders of the towns acted like he'd personally destroyed their crops and poisoned their water supply, or whatever. And he wasn't going to get involved with that sort of thing again. So involved in his own thoughts, he missed Roman and Remus having another silent exchange of facial expressions.

"Well," Roman tore his eyes away from his twin, "What if…maybe we just talk to a few people?" Virgil looked down at him, unimpressed. "You're right, we can't change the laws, but we know people who can!" Virgil crossed his arms. "It's just- let us try and help you! There's no reason for anyone to harbor animosity towards you, and we can make sure that nobody attempts to hurt or hunt you!" Virgil was uneasy. It sounded good in theory, sure, but that was a lot of risk to take. And risk taking wasn't necessarily in his wheelhouse.

"I don't know, Roman…" he shifted awkwardly. "What happens when it doesn't work? What's the fallout?" Roman huffed.

"If it doesn't work, we can both ensure that you'll be left alone," Roman assured him confidently. "But it will. I swear. Trust me?" And maybe it was just that his powerful belief that he could do it was contagious, but Virgil found himself agreeing.

"Only a few people," he sighed. "If you insist. I guess-"

"Woohoo!" Remus shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "Revolution! Fight the men! Overthrow the leaders!" He lowered his arms slightly, face becoming more serious. "Literally. Just go up and rip the house from the ground and shake." He mimicked shaking what was presumably the town leaders' houses.

"I take it back," Virgil deadpanned.

"No, it's fine, just ignore him," Roman physically waved Remus's statement away, hand flapping in front of his face. Virgil glanced outside, the weather looked okay, and it was still light enough out. He should really get started getting them both back to their home.

"So, Roman," he interjected through their bickering, "the way we traveled earlier," and that really got their attention, "will that work with two of you at the same time?" Roman opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, while giving his brother an appraising look.

"How'd you travel earlier?!" Remus asked excitedly, "giant horse? Paper airplane? Piggyback ride on Paul No-Funyan's shoulders?!" Virgil raised both eyebrows; one because ouch, two because there was no way that was happening, but Roman beat him to it.

"No, I'm afraid there'll be no dealing with Remus." He sighed dramatically. "He'll have to live amongst the trees."

"YES!" Remus double fist-pumped. "Finally! But you're wrong about the tree bit, I'ma burrow underground and become soil."

"As if you're not already," Roman shot back immediately, which just made Remus laugh that distinctive cackle that he'd heard before. Virgil sighed and decided to just awkwardly lean over and put his hands flat on the floor, palms up. Roman blinked up at him for a brief moment, then seemed to realize. "Ah! Thank you, Virgil." He turned to say something to his twin, but-

"WHEEEEEEE!" Remus shouted as he ran towards his hands, and Virgil almost flinched them completely away until he saw him spring up into a jump aimed right for them. Virgil caught him with a soft ker-pluf and he remained sprawled out in the position that he landed in. Where he started to pretend to swim. "All aboard the Humongbus!"

Roman sighed and silently climbed on Virgil's hands, nudging his brother over with his elbow none-too-gently as he sat down with his legs crossed. He only flopped his arm over Roman's face in response. He sputtered and batted it off angrily, and Remus rolled over and swung a leg on his lap while he was distracted.

"If you could maybe not do that while I'm walking you back so that I don't drop you, that'd be great," Virgil attempted to hide his nerves from how much this guy ratcheted up his anxiety.

"Aw, but think of how much fun I'd have on the way down!" Remus half-pouted, then became considering. "Y'think if I dropped from high enough my femurs would stab right up through my shoulders?" Virgil wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Just hold on; I'm moving you now." And Roman clutched onto his thumb, Remus didn't do anything, as he slowly raised them both up, trying to guard the sides of two hands by moving them next to his chest so that they were more closed in.

"WHEEEEeeeeee……." Remus started at a shout but then trailed off. He felt a smaller hand smack at his palm a few times and Virgil jolted. "Faster, faster!"

"Would you cut that out?!" Roman smacked his shoulder with his free hand. "Stop antagonizing Virgil! He's being very nice and taking us back, and you're being all yourself at him, you mental Martin!" He glared at him. Virgil cleared his throat.

"Uh. Gonna start walking now," he said awkwardly. Then he started walking slowly enough to not jostle or disturb them too much.

"Hmmmmm…" Remus squinted at Roman. "Alright, then," he acquiesced after a moment. "I'll be nice to Cliff-feared and his Big Red D-"

"Don't you dare finish that nickname!" Roman screeched, turning bright red. Remus sputtered out a laugh, but otherwise stayed still, which was a relief. Virgil supposed that this walk back would be a lot different with a second passenger.

-----

@callboxkat @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @thefivecalls @awkwardjester-blog @ollyollyoxinfree @intruxiety @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @kieraelieson  @snowdice @callboxkat @10moonymhrivertam @just-some-gt-trash @evoodo123 @idont-freaking-know @legendsgates

[fully-functioning-pigeon]

Finally got around to watching episode 56, and I’m so sorry Matt but infinitesimal means really small not really big (this is during FCG’s vision of the Changebringer)

Shout out to Thomas Sanders who taught me that, it lives in my brain at the same wavelength that aglet stays in my brain from Phineas and Ferb

[badkatart]

Hand Practice

[a-tiny-frog-girl]

I just hit 150 followers??? what???

anyways I kinda want to do something special but I don't know what y'all would want so I'll give you some choices and I'll check back in tmrw

ideas:

I draw your gt characters (send me a reference and I'll try to draw them!)

I write short stories inspired by your prompts!

I put out the fic that I've been hyperfixating on that I'm scared no one would read (criminal minds and oc g/t fic)

I make a prompt list(s?) for other writers/artists

I make more dumb world building lists that go on for forever

I do an ask game or two about my writing

I would love to do any or even multiple of these, but almost no one actually talks to me when I do these things so it would kinda be stupid if I try to do one and no one interacts. My asks are open and you can be anonymous if you'd like :).

Thank you for all the followers, y'all keep me going!!

[ashs-random-writing]

The Problem With Cameras

~~~~~

Roman didn't know much about human technology. In fact, up until about a month ago, he was an outside living borrower. When the weather shifted to the worst it got in that area, he couldn’t find any suitable shelter barring the human house that resided in the midst of hundreds, maybe even thousands of trees.

Aka, Roman makes a dumb mistake because he doesn't know what cameras are

~~~~~~

Roman didn’t know much about human technology. In fact, up until about a month ago, he was an outside living borrower. When the weather shifted to the worst it got in that area, he couldn’t find any suitable shelter barring the human house that resided in the midst of hundreds, maybe even thousands of trees.

Reluctantly, he searched for a potential entrance, which he luckily found in under five minutes, before entering the walls. He loved the warmth of the house, and quickly started learning the layout of the tunnels, and silently thanking the air that borrowers had evidently lived here before.

He had learned some things from other borrowers, during his travels. Mostly families that were moving from one set of walls to another, and while adults were giving warnings about if he was to ever live in a house, Roman was entertaining children with stories, both of his life and those of dragons and princes. He would offer the families extra supplies and shelter from wherever he lived when he met them.

Nothing could beat the thrill of telling someone stories, or reading things aloud or giving your opinion, even if it was to no one, perhaps to yourself even. So when he heard the human start to talk when no one else was in the house, he couldn’t help but watch.

Perhaps the human was a storyteller and was practicing for when he would show other humans’? The borrower sat on a shelf that was out of the human’s sight, and listened to the human speak. The human was looking into a weird device, and seemingly just talking to it, as if it were multiple people, all but solidifying the idea that he were practicing for something.

The things the human were talking about confused him, however. Half of what was being said sounded like gibberish but Roman supposed that it must make sense to the human, even if he, himself, could not understand what he was talking about.

Roman actually found it all quite intriguing, in the four weeks of secretly living the human, he’d only been left alone in the house a total of twice, when the human left to buy food. So if the human rarely left the house, what was he practicing for? Roman didn’t know, honestly, but he really didn’t know much about humans.

After a while of watching the human, he retreated back into the walls

-

Virgil posted his new Youtube video, and sighed, preparing for random hate comments, or people trying to get famous by claiming they know him. He went to go make food whilst waiting for his subscribers to watch the video. He wasn’t expecting to see all the comments complimenting him on the editing of something he didn’t add.

He re-watched the video, this time focusing on the spot the comments were pointing out, aka the top shelf of his bookshelf, where apparently a tiny person would appear about five minutes in. His breath hitched in a gasp when he saw it, sat there just watching him. That was kind of weird, he thought

Why wasn’t he aware of the tiny person living in his house? He watched until the tiny person left, and Virgil noticed the tiny doorway that opened up. He walked towards the shelf in question, and finally noticed the small imprint of a doorway in the wood.

Over the next week, he noticed more things, like tiny footprints in dust, or some of his food disappearing, or just where he noticed door-like shapes in the walls. At least two were in the kitchen, which kinda made sense?

The little guy probably needed food.. He decided to try capture it, wanting to hopefully get answers, or maybe get it to be in the background of more videos. This was the video with the least amount of hate comments so far, just because of the tiny person sat on a bookshelf, swinging its legs

-

Roman entered the kitchen, and his eyes immediately fell upon the seemingly abandoned bag of popcorn. Roman supposed the human wouldn’t notice if just one piece went missing, right? He took a step forward, not bothering to look at the ground beneath him.

That was a mistake. He felt his steps stop and looked down at what he had assumed was the ground, only to see a glue trap like those to catch mice. He cursed himself for not using the other entrance, but a quick look towards that area showed that he would’ve gotten himself trapped there as well.

For them to have been placed so perfectly, the human must’ve known what he was doing, and what he was catching. Roman’s breathing got quicker, and he struggled, trying to pry his feet from the stickiness of the makeshift floor before the human would inevitably come for his food, and for Roman.

He both heard and felt the human’s footsteps, getting closer as he was failing to escape. The kitchen door opened and the human stepped inside, making his way towards where Roman was still trying to escape

“Holy shit, that actually worked.. I didn’t think that would work” The human’s booming voice startled him out of staring

“Let me go, Fiend!” He shouted, hoping his voice didn’t reflect the amount of pure fear he was experiencing. The human merely raised an eyebrow

“Jeez, little guy, I just want answers about why you’re in my house, no need to scream at me” The sentence was punctuated with an eye roll, and Roman glared

“How did you even know I existed? I have been really well hidden” Roman glared up at the human, and crossed his arms

A chuckle escaped from the human’s lips “Well hidden? Are you sure?” He pulled out the weird rectangle that humans always had and showed Roman a picture of the borrower sat on a shelf

“How-how did you get this?” His voice was shaky, and he tried to think of what he could’ve done to make his face appear on the human rectangle things. Maybe he should’ve stayed outside like he was taught, where he belonged.

~~~~~ 

Taglist: @a-chilly-pepper

[the-sanders-sides-correct-quotes]

Thomas: I don’t know, Logic, I just don’t really know what to talk about...

Logan: Preposterous! There's an infinitesimal amount of things in this bizarre massive universe brimming with exciting mysteries and you don't really know what to talk about?

[sanderssidessides]

Logan said infinitesimal in a video!

I always assumed it was a joke, something that supposedly happened off screen.

But I was rewatching Losing My Motivation while writing another theory, and he said it right there.

"Preposterous! There's an infinitesimal amount of things in this bizarre massive universe brimming with exciting mysteries and you don't really know what to talk about?"

Am I the only one who didn't realize that?

[astrummorte]

emrys ambrosi tags

[bilgisticallykosher]

A Giant Miscommunication chapter 3

A Fighting Chance

Previous Chapter | Masterpost | Next Chapter

Discord Server | AO3

Last chapter had a great reception, hopefully you guys like this one, too. Although this one has like 100% less Remus, so how good could it be, amirite?

Warnings: Baby's first fight scene!!! (It's me, I'm baby.) Also a lot of mentions of theoretical killing, mentions of giant prejudice, cursing

Words: 8006

It had been a harsh winter. Aside from the ability to wear lighter clothes, it was a relief to see the warmer weather due to what it meant with regard to the melting of the snow. It had been quite a bit since the forest had been clear of it; since before that first big blizzard they'd had. With careful attention to the forecasts and the signs, it was easy to avoid going out on that day, preventing many people from getting caught in the snow like some form of amateur.

But it had been a long few months, and while occupying both mind and time with productive activities, it would be a relief to get back into the forest. Not for the forest itself, although there was indeed much to marvel over in the differences between the regular, human-sized flora and fauna and the more giant versions, but rather they were excited for what awaited them at forest's edge.

Namely, giants.

Specifically, right now, one giant. Logan had, some time ago, befriended Virgil, and was often the go-between for tasks he needed help with. Quite frequently he would purchase items that he needed their assistance to set up, or that could be adjusted to better suit his needs, (e.g., a handle that wasn’t quite big enough for him to hold comfortably or other similar tasks), and so, Logan was happy to help.

In fact, they were going to visit him right now for such assistance. He'd recently received a delivery from Amazonian.com that he needed help installing and, well, Logan was certainly not one to turn down such a task, especially when it meant that they'd be seeing their… friend.

And so, through the forest they went, a fairly sizable toolbox, (well technically it might well be a toolbag, considering it was in a duffel bag, but as there was no such word, toolbox it was) tucked securely under their arm, all the way to Virgil's house in the middle of the woods. They saw it looming over the small clearing where it stood tall; remote, secluded, isolated, away from prying eyes, and being sauntered up to by another human.

Oh no.

They had been closer than the other, and so they put the toolbox on the ground and carefully approached the human. They became aware of a few more details about the mystery visitor: firstly, they had a large-ish pack, second, they wore a sword, in its scabbard, thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, Logan recognized him. None of this added up to anything good. A half-formed plan in mind, they cleared their throat from a safe distance to get his attention.

Roman, for they knew that was his name, yelped, head whipping around, and, yes, they were glad he wasn't too close, there went the man's hand right to his sword. He had it halfway withdrawn, before making eye contact, and he smiled at them, all teeth. Logan remained unimpressed.

"Excuse me, may I help you? Are you perhaps lost?" He blinked, and slowly lowered his sword back in its sheath.

"Hello to you, too!" He started, smile slightly more brittle than it had been before. "As it turns out, I'm in fact right where I intended to be." He puffed out his chest obnoxiously. "But I thank you for your concern." He gave a condescending little half-bow. Urgh. Well, that wasn't indicative of anything.

"My name is Roman! He/him. And yourself?" He declared, stating what Logan already knew. Logan rolled his eyes internally. At least he knew how to be polite.

"Logan, they/them." Wonderful, this was just what they wanted to be doing right now. Exchanging names with someone like him. But it wasn't as though they could just lie. He'd have found out, somehow, they're sure.

"A pleasure to meet you!" There was a pause where it was very obvious that Logan was not going to say it back. They would have to find a way to ask him what he was doing here; he surely saw the imposing house in front of him; he was right by the door. But they needed to be subtle in the way that they-

"So, why are you in this overlarge neck of the woods? Is it because of the giant?" Well. No need to look gift unsubtleties in the mouth, they supposed.

"I am aware of," Logan hesitated only for a fraction, "the giant, yes." They adjusted their glasses. "And that is, indeed, the reason I am here." They were trying to get him to go away as quickly as possible. Roman raised his eyebrows, posture relaxing only slightly.

"Oh, really?" His tone was curious, yet level. "I didn't know that anyone else oh is that yours?" He interrupted himself mid-sentence as he pointed towards Logan's toolbox.

"Yes," Logan replied curtly.

"What's in it?" Roman's head tilted. Logan barely held back an aggravated sigh.

"If you must know," and he mustn't, "it contains my tools to help take care of things in there," he gestured towards Virgil's doorway, and oddly, Roman's eyes got wide for a moment, and they saw him mouth the words take care of before he adjusted his posture and looked at them through squinted eyes.

"Where are you from?" Logan got an odd sense of being analyzed by him.

"Bellatovi," Logan replied curtly yet politely.

"Well I'm from Fuerovirta, and I'm not sure if you know who I am-"

"I do," Logan replied curtly, and not at all politely. Roman's brows furrowed.

"Well, I'm not sure if the recent talk about giants has reached you over there," Oh, it had. Nothing official, but there had been rumors and talk flying around about the giants and the towns' rules concerning them changing.

Ever since Logan could remember, there had been laws about giants not being allowed in any of the towns, and vice versa. But more than that, it was allowed, no, encouraged to defend oneself against them if anyone encountered them, whether they showed any sign of aggression or not. It hadn't happened within this century as far as Logan had heard of, but it was a very well-known rule. And oh, Logan knew Roman alright. They knew him very well, indeed. One of two, spoiled, golden children. Sons of the town leaders of Fuerovirta, the undisputed most powerful of the towns around in this area, and thereby the leaders of the others within the township. Raised and taught all the lies they'd been force-feeding everyone else.

Oh, yes. They knew Roman Reyes.

"Vaguely," they dismissed. "But I have no interest in knowing the specifics of the 'new rules.'" They made sure to use air quotes to emphasize their derision.

If they had to guess, they'd say the rules were changing to be more harsh on any non-humans, what with the twins' tendency towards 'adventuring.' That was, in fact, one of the things they were going to bring up with Virgil today. "To be quite honest, I don't remotely care about your opinion, and now, I have a job to do."

Oddly, Roman looked panicked. They couldn't figure out why, and that only proved to unsettle them more. However, regardless of the expected offense they'd have predicted, they came here for Virgil, and no son of any leader was going to stop them. They turned around and took a step towards their tools when-

"Wait!" Roman called, and Logan stopped. "Uh, about the whole," he hesitated, "thing, that you're, about, to do." Ugh, they really hoped he'd just move on and leave them alone. Forever. "I…" for someone who loved to talk so much, he was certainly fumbling over his words now, hesitant and slightly stilted. "You shouldn't attempt something like that, it's too dangerous!" Like he cared about them at all. He was just saying that because he hadn't met Virgil and thought all giants were inherently dangerous.

"I'm quite willing to take the risk. Goodbye." They ended the conversation, fully intending to pick up their tools and get away from him.

"I'm far more experienced in killing giants than you are!" Roman shouted, words almost blurring together, and Logan froze in their tracks. Their chest felt funny, although there wasn't anything humorous about the way they suddenly felt like they couldn't breathe.

"... What do you mean?" Logan managed, much less sure of their own words now.

"I mean!" Logan hadn't turned to face him yet, unwilling to see whatever sick expression was on his face without a moment to gather themself. "I mean, y'know, if you're really going in there right now," There was the sound of his feet moving on the ground. "I've heard h- it's pretty dangerous. If you don't know what you're doing. And! Uh, I've had lots of experience in defeating them, so-"

"How many." Now Logan turned around to look him in the eyes. Roman blinked, seemingly taken aback.

"Uhh, like. So many." He flipped his hand, "Just. Kinda hard to keep track of a number after a certain point, you know?" He laughed, completely at odds with the subject at hand, and with Logan's inner distress about their friends- oh no. They suddenly got cold as they thought of something. But surely they'd have heard if anything had happened to him, wouldn't they? They resisted the nausea that swept through them.

"Did you," they couldn't say it. The mere thought of saying it made their stomach proverbially turn, and words unable to form. "Around here?" They settled for. "Have you been adventuring in the forest around the other side of Ferruvi?"

"Hm? No, I haven't, why?" He replied immediately, and Logan felt as though they were able to breathe again. He said it almost off-handedly, then did a double take. "Wait, is there another giant there, or something?" His eyes were wide, and Logan realized that they'd all but told him where to find him. But while they hadn't answered him, quite frankly, they'd made it fairly obvious.

Roman narrowed his eyes, mouth dropping into a frown. "You stay away from the giant that's there! I can handle them all, you needn't go there!"

"Oh, I needn't?!" Logan spat back, "I think it's you who needn't!" He crossed his arms with a scoff and they just crossed theirs right back at him. "Are the giants you've disposed of not enough for you? You have to get rid of all of them?"

"And what are you here for, then?" He gestured upwards, "going to climb onto the roof to enjoy the view?!" Logan glared harder at that. What utter nonsense.

"Oh, don't you deflect, you obnoxious, self-absorbed, silver spoon-fed, pompous, bombastic-"

"Okay, I think that's enough from you!" Roman glared, and took a step forward, hands lowering, his left one falling suspiciously close to the sword at his side.

"And how are you going to stop me?" They sneered, "going to use that sword to make me shut up permanently?" Roman's eyes widened and his hand practically flew away from the sword.

"NO!" He glared at them again. "What is wrong with you?! What, you think I'm going to kill you for being incredibly rude?" Logan scoffed, "and inaccurate, might I add!" Logan didn't dignify that with a response. Quite frankly if he were willing to kill giants for the sin of existing they were willing to bet he could figure out plenty of reasons to kill Logan themself. "Well…mostly," Roman finished his thought. Ugh.

"Listen," and in the worst possible timing, they heard what they undoubtedly knew to be Virgil's slow footsteps. They pressed on, hoping that he hadn't noticed, "I came here to accomplish something, and I fully intend to complete my goals," damn it, his footsteps were growing louder; Virgil was coming closer. "And I won't let you intimidate or bully me away from here!"

"You get away from that house!" Roman pointed at them. "Thus far you're the only bully I've seen here! So be careful where you're pointing fingers!" Roman shot back, very much still literally pointing his finger at them.

"Why don't you watch it!" They met him point for point and pointed back at him, stubbornly ignoring the sound of footsteps steadily increasing in volume. "I know who you are, alright, Roman Reyes! I know very well your holier-than-thou attitude," the sound was very close now; right near the door, Roman didn't appear to have noticed. "Your proclivity towards looking down on everyone around you," they heard Virgil's hand make contact to pull it open, "and most of all, I know your ancestors' giant-hating blood runs thick through your veins, without a damn bit of damning evidence against-" the next bit happened very quickly.

What happened was this:

The door opened. Logan turned their head towards the noise, looking up at Virgil, who glanced down at the both of them, eyes flicking quickly back and forth, trying to take in the whole situation.

"Uhh," but that was all that he was able to get out before two voices screamed out at him,

"GET BACK INSIDE!" Logan, who thought they'd been hearing things, because they couldn't imagine that Roman would do something seemingly helpful for a giant, turned towards him.

Here's what else happened: Roman had heard Virgil's footsteps from the get go. He'd been preparing for him to come to the door, and he also correctly predicted that Logan would turn towards it when it opened.

Roman, however, did not.

So, when Logan turned, he wanted to prevent them from doing anything to hurt Virgil. So, he ran right towards them, shouted a quick warning to Virgil, and met their eyes as they watched him barrel into them at top speed.

Later, Logan would piece this together via their own recollection, and additional information from Roman. For now, they yelped, and braced themself, feebly putting their arms up just a bit too late as Roman tackled them, sending the two of them onto the ground.

They immediately started trying to physically overpower him, but he was doing the same to them, and he had a much more muscular and more tactical advantage. So, sprawling and brawling they did the only thing they could, and shouted another warning as they lifted their knees sharply into Roman's legs, getting him slightly off-kilter, and his legs on the ground around them. They attempted to grab hold of Roman's arms with his own.

"He's trying to kill you!" Roman made a noise, as he got a hand free, grabbing one of Logan's with one of his own, and kneeling on the other one. Ha! He was probably upset that his plans had been ruined.

"Don't listen to them!" He turned slightly to look at Virgil, keeping Logan pinned down by putting a hand, admittedly loosely, around their throat. That was entirely unfair that he did that while half distracted. "They're the one that's trying to kill you!" Logan wriggled a hand free and slapped it on his face, over his nose and mouth. Roman licked their palm. Yeuch. They were able to extract their other arm now, and grabbed a fistful of his hair instead, jerking his head to the side. "OW! HEY!" They rolled over onto their side to attempt to gain some footing-

Virgil coughed, and both of them turned to look at him, leaning on his doorway far too casually for the situation. He raised both eyebrows.

"So," he sounded hesitant. "Logan. Roman. I see you've met." What? No. What? What was he talking about? Why did he know Roman's name? What?

Virgil switched to only one raised eyebrow while watching them frozen in place. "And thanks for the warning, but I think you two are too busy trying to kill each other to try attacking me." They both made eye contact at that, Roman's hand still over their throat. He removed it and rolled over to Logan's side, and they were able to sit up. Roman was staring at Virgil with what seemed to be an equal amount of shock to what they were experiencing.

"You know them?!" Roman gaped inelegantly. Logan idly rubbed their wrist where Roman had, however short a time period, had very firmly grasped it.

"Are you telling me," their mind reeling as they spoke, "that you know Roman Reyes well enough to identify him,"

"Would you stop saying my name like it's a curse word?!" Roman put his hands on his hips, glaring at him.

"Yet you're exhibiting neither fear nor annoyance?" They continued on, ignoring Roman wholly.

"Uh, well," Virgil shifted slightly. "I didn't know his last name, but yeah." He squinted, "should I be?" He blinked, and then before they could respond, "Ah! Are you thinking of Remus?"

"You know Remus, too?!" They vaguely wondered if this was some sort of fever dream. Although at least Remus had a history of mouthing off to his parents and other council officials. He wasn't always quite as bad as his brother.

"Yeah," Virgil shrugged. "He's kinda why I wanted your help with the lock I got for my door." Well, okay, that at least made sense with the context that they had (very little). He turned to Roman. "No offense. But he interrupted my nap and freaked me the hell out." Oh, good, he was apologizing to the giant-hater that he apparently was on good terms with.

"Oh, none taken, he'd be very proud," Roman physically waved the apology off, "but you said you wanted their help," he jerked a thumb in their direction, "with the lock?" Virgil nodded. Roman put a hand on his chin in thought. Since this would surely take some time, Logan decided to get up and retrieve his things. They'd barely taken a step in the direction when, "Ah-ha!" Roman pointed at Logan, who was still right next to him. Logan raised an unimpressed eyebrow and crossed their arms.

"Yes?" They asked as dry as they could.

"You said you had tools!" Roman exclaimed, "to help you take care of something in the house or whatever!" He was oddly exuberant for someone who was merely repeating words to the person who had said them. "I thought you meant," he hesitated. "You know. Um. Take care of, in, another way…?" Logan narrowed their eyes. "But you just meant you legitimately had tools! And you're here to help him with things in his house!" Roman looked relieved and was beaming at his own very obvious conclusion of their very obvious statements earlier.

"Yes," they rolled their eyes. "Congratulations. I'll remember to give you a gold star when I can find the energy to care." They turned around again to collect their tools, but that wasn't quite enough to hide the flinch from Virgil at their words. They ignored it and determinedly walked over with their tool set towards the door, where Virgil was still holding it open.

"How long have you known them?" Roman asked Virgil, frowning while he crossed his arms as though he were the one that were worried for his safety.

"I met him several years ago." He had asked Virgil, but Logan took the liberty of answering instead. "Truth be told, I never believed the drivel that Fuerovirta touted, so when I met him through outside influence, despite his usual tendency to scare humans off through fear tactics, I found him," they hesitated slightly. Being accurate was one thing, but there were limits. "... very personable," they settled on, "and a fascinating conversational partner." They crossed the threshold, noting that Virgil had hung his head in embarrassment, flushed cheeks even more evident from their angle below him.

"Hmm," they heard him tap his foot, "Well, can't argue with you there, I suppose!" And as they turned around to look at him, they saw him, backpack in place, and boldly heading towards the door like he owned the place. Typical. But Logan hadn't ever let him walk all over them, and they weren't going to start now.

"And what about you?" Logan stood in the middle of the space that wasn't being blocked by Virgil, who gave them a slightly pained look again.

"I think I'm quite the conversationalist, myself," he smirked.

"That's not what I meant," they leaned forward, glaring at him. "You've killed multiple giants before, according to what you told me. What's your defense for your claims?" Virgil made a noise like a sharp inhalation. Maybe now he would see why they were behaving this way towards him.

"Ah," Roman brought his hands up, fingers tapping together awkwardly. "Well, about that. I, um, maybe was exaggerating slightly." Logan wasn't having it, though.

"How 'slightly' would that be?" They used air quotes.

"Very slightly." He brought his hand up in a pinching motion. "Just a little itty bit." His attempts at levity and charm did nothing for Logan.

"How many have you killed, then?" Their tone left no room for argument. "And don't hem and haw. I want a direct answer this time," they stood their ground.

"Then that would be zero." He answered immediately with a sheepish grin. Logan exhaled sharply.

"Then why were you prattling on about how you were so well practiced in defeating them?"

"Well," Roman sighed, letting his arms drift near his head "since I thought that you were the one that wanted to do no good, I was hoping that I could convince you to let me handle him!" He put a hand on his forehead, "you seemed very set against the new policies and I'd thought you were here to prove a point," something niggled at Logan, but they put it aside for now, "so I'd hoped that if you put your faith in me, and wouldn't bother Virgil at all." Roman paused, "and then we'd probably go check up on that other giant you mentioned-"

"You leave him alone!" They shouted immediately.

"-to warn him." Roman's arms came down and he seemed to be less grandiose for a moment. "Logan," he hesitated, mouth in a frown, but eyes wide. He inhaled, "I truly don't wish to harm any giants. Or anyone in this forest." He took a small step forward, head tilted, "and I truly haven't hurt anyone, either." They felt foolish at their outburst, but ten minutes of conversation went no way to correct the years-long impression they'd gotten of him and his family. They silently turned to look at Virgil, who gave a one shouldered shrug.

"I think I'm missing some context, but," he gave a half smile. "I believe him." Logan sighed, and looked back at Roman and nodded, once. His face lit up again, but he still remained more subdued than was typical of him.

"Would either of you mind if I came in, then?" He smiled sheepishly. "I did come all this way for a specific purpose, perhaps I could explain inside…?" Virgil started nodding immediately, then looked down at Logan. They sighed.

"It is your house. You may do as you wish." Which was true. Defensive as they were, it was ultimately Virgil who had final say…for better or for worse.

"Splendid!" He adjusted his pack, and Logan stood aside to let him pass. Once he was well past the threshold, Virgil closed the door. He crouched down by Logan, hooking one finger through the loop of his tool bag, putting both hands together, and flat on the floor. Logan walked on with no hesitation, and Virgil lightly cupped them, bringing them up to the doorframe where Virgil wanted the lock. They put up their long hair so as to be out of their face, and went over to their toolbag, and first grabbed a ruler.

"You will need to hold this steady. I'll be able to stand on a single hand until then." Virgil waited until they seemed stable and then nodded and took it from them, holding out firmly in place. "Thank you," they grabbed a pencil and began marking the places they'd need to secure the lock.

"So!" Roman loudly exclaimed after mere moments of silence. "Virgil, I assume you want to know how the whole 'stop hating giants' talk went?" Roman sounded smug, but Logan was quite unable to concentrate on that, as Virgil jolted in sheer shock, knocking Logan off-balance.

"You actually did it?!" He turned completely around to face Roman on the floor behind him, and Logan huffed, annoyed, as they adjusted their glasses. Although truth be told, they were rather interested in what he was talking about. They would have never guessed that they'd be seeing Roman Reyes in any sort of context similar to this.

"What, did you think I wouldn't, after all that convincing you?" He put a hand on his chest. "I'm offended," Virgil snorted, "but I suppose I'll tell you anyway."

"How gracious of you," Virgil's tone belied his nerves that Logan knew were there from the tense way they were being held.

"Plus," Roman faced Logan, "you can find out all about those rumors you've been hearing!" He grinned, but Logan, not wanting to feed into his ego, tried to not let anything show on their face.

"I'll be working on the lock, then." They nodded.

"Of course! I wouldn't dream of holding up your work," he bowed again, and Logan barely resisted making a face at him. They waited a moment, and when nothing happened, they cleared their throat.

"Virgil," they called attention to him.

"Oh!" He started turning slowly, "Sorry, I- sorry." Logan gave him a few pats on the hand as silent reassurance, and he turned back around so they could both work on installing the lock. Meanwhile, Roman spoke.

He spoke about talking to his parents with Remus, presenting a united front. He spoke about their reluctance to listen to them with their long-ingrained hatred. He spoke about their shock at him having been lost in the woods during a snowstorm, and Logan learned of the circumstances of Virgil and Roman’s first meeting. He spoke of how Virgil had taken care of him, (which Virgil had stammered about, and mentioned the medical book that Logan had gotten him, which made them very pleased.) He spoke about how, between the twins, they had finally convinced their parents to give their view a shot. He spoke about organizing a conference amongst all the local town leaders. He spoke about how they'd agreed to, if not give the giants full-on rights, then to at least get rid of the laws that would promise them harm.

And thus, Logan finally heard what the rumors were about. Not harsher laws to drive them out further, but a repealing of the laws in the first place. And if what Roman was saying were true, one day there might be new laws that would protect them. That was nothing short of incredible, and it was due to Roman. They…didn't know how to feel about that.

"The lock's installation is complete," they announced, instead. During Roman's update of things in Fuerovirta they had, indeed, finished the lock. Virgil muttered a thanks, as he turned to put them down, but it was clear that his mind was still racing due to all the information that Roman had bestowed.

"Oh, good job," Roman piped up from the floor where he certainly couldn't see well. "I'm sure it looks marvelous!" Virgil stopped and then really looked at Logan.

"Oh, yeah, thank you, Logan." He smiled at them, causing them to flush with what was certainly the satisfaction of a job well done. "Really."

"It was no trouble-"

"And Roman," Virgil cut across. Logan tried not to deflate as he placed them down. "I, I can't believe you were able to do all that." Virgil was also smiling at Roman. "I also didn't know that your parents were the town leaders," and now Roman flushed, but he wasn't smiling.

"Yes, I didn't think it was pertinent to mention my family line while you were busy saving my life." He rubbed the back of his neck, "honestly I wasn't sure that you'd have even heard of them, but I didn't necessarily want you to associate me with the people who were upholding anti-giant laws."

"Well, probably a smart plan," Virgil agreed, "but Roman, I don't know how to begin to thank you. What you're doing now is, is," Virgil seemed to be searching for a word that they were sure was trying to describe how overwhelmingly groundbreaking it was. But Roman cut through.

"Is something that I should have done years ago," he bowed his head. "Remus always had his theories, but I confess I…didn't want to believe him, even when I should have."

"It's okay," he smiled warmly at him as Logan silently agreed with Roman. "You're more than making up for it now. It's," he started shifting in his crouch then seemed to think better of it. "This shouldn't fall all on your shoulders. It's hard to stand up to people, especially if those people are your parents." Roman met his eyes. "That's not something you should feel guilty over." Roman smiled at him and he smiled back as they stared at each other.

Logan chose that moment to grab his bag from around Virgil's finger. The movement seemed to jostle them both out of it. Oh no, what a shame.

"Also," Roman cleared his throat as they both looked sharply away from each other, cheeks red. Roman took a deep breath and faced Virgil again, smiling. "All the towns' leaders would be interested in meeting you as soon as possible!"

"What?!" Virgil snapped his head back towards Roman. "Absolutely not, no."

"Well, before they make a decision about giants in general, they want to meet you!" Roman reasoned, which, they supposed made sense. "And you can show them how nice and friendly you are!"

"Hell no, I'm an asshole," Virgil spat back at Roman. He crossed his arms and glared at him. "Nothing doing." Roman, there was no other word for it, pouted at him.

"Oh come on!" He implored, "Remus'll be there to back you up, too!" Virgil snorted.

"I was going to eat him, I wouldn't exactly call that a glowing review." Logan choked on nothing.

"Oh, please," Roman dismissed. "That's hardly the worst threat he's ever gotten!" He scoffed. "Not like you were actually going to do it, anyway." He put his hands on his hips. "And besides! You just said you didn't know how to thank me, this is the perfect solution!" Virgil softened his posture and seemed resigned.

"Well, when you put it that way…" he glared at him again. "Still no."

"Oh, come on!"

"I told you I didn't like people!" He threw his arms up before he hung them limply at his sides. "I'm not good with them! I'm anxious just thinking about it, I'll freeze or say something wrong or, I'll just have so many people looking at me, let alone the fact they they're already biased against me because I'm a giant and then I'll have the fate of all giants around here resting solely on my shoulders and, and-"

"Virgil." Logan got his attention and when they were sure that Virgil was looking, they overexaggerated their breathing until he caught on and soon he stopped looking so close to panic. Roman, for his part, looked alarmed. Logan sighed. "Virgil," they had been thinking while the two had been discussing the problem. "How much do you trust him? Because, there is another option if they merely wish to meet a giant…" they trailed off, and saw the exact moment that Virgil caught on to what they were implying.

"Oh." He considered the question briefly. "I trust him," he nodded. "He said he'd help how we were viewed and he did." He smiled again. "I think that'll work, it's a good idea. He's a much better option than I am, plus he actually likes people… theoretically." Roman was looking more and more confused, and they were still battling with this new version of him that they were seeing. They sighed. They trusted Virgil, and his judgement, so they supposed that meant they'd have to trust Roman, too.

"Alright then. You'd better call him to confirm," they nodded, smiling very slightly, if tightly.

"Alright, when and where is it?" Virgil turned to Roman.

"As soon as possible, actually." Roman grinned sheepishly as Virgil's eyes widened. "And it's around the edge of the forest, to accommodate for giant seating, on the other side of Ferruvi."

"Okay. Let me get you two set up in the kitchen, I'll put some tea on, and call him while it boils." He reached his hands out towards them and they both climbed onto a different hand than the other, although their legs wound up touching as they settled. The ride to the kitchen was tense, but over quickly, and Virgil placed them both on the table top, set the tea on the stove, then turned to them. "Are you gonna be okay by yourselves or will there be a repeat of what happened outside," he asked wryly. Logan sighed.

"Just go," they made little 'leave' motions with their fingers.

"Oh!" Roman snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot." He grabbed the backpack he'd been traveling with and unzipped it, rummaging through its contents. "I brought a bunch of spare clothing in case I have to get undressed again!" And Logan’s mind shut down.

"No, wait, that's not what it sounds like!" Logan continued to stare off in the distance, able to hear Virgil's words but completely unable to process the possible implications. Their face was blank. "He got stuck in the blizzard! I was trying to prevent hypothermia!" He spoke quickly. "I told you the book you got me on basic first aid helped; it said to get him in dry clothes, so I had to get the wet ones off, that's what it said in the book!" Logan blinked. Once.

Ah, yes, that did make sense. They blinked again, and cleared their throat.

"Skzyphx," they mumbled, nodding. Ah, their speech seemed to not be functioning properly. The poor phrasing must have really thrown them to figuratively tie their tongue. Roman gave them an odd look, but Virgil had relaxed and seemed to take their…atypical word as agreement of some sort, and he grabbed the clothes that Roman held out to him.

He gave the two of them one last, long glance, and he left. The two of them were alone. Before Logan could even begin to start feeling the tension in the air, Roman cleared his throat.

"Logan," they braced themselves as they turned to him. "I wanted to apologize to you about what happened before." Logan blinked, and was about to return in kind, although still feeling slightly like they were in the right, but Roman held up a hand, "please allow me to finish." They raised an eyebrow, but settled in to listen. "I admit we had a particularly bad bout of not speaking our intentions, but I definitely have quite a lot of responsibility for that." He inhaled and exhaled. "I would also very much like to apologize for the atrocious way that I acted towards you. I shouldn't have assumed the worst of you," and okay, now Logan felt slightly bad, because although they'd had years of knowing Roman from afar, they had done the same to him, too. "I wanted to ward you off of going near Virgil, because I feared you'd do him harm, when I see clearly now that, in fact, you are a wonderful friend to him and a great boon to his life!"

Okay this was…slightly unexpected. They were expecting a small, general apology, and yet, he was still going. "Heck, due to your gifting him that medical book, you likely saved mine!"

"Oh, well I, it was nothing," they stammered slightly. Clearly their tongue was still affected from before.

"You were around to help him even when I knew him as nothing more than a scary bedtime story! You've been aiding him in times of need and have been there as a loyal companion, bravely shunning the views of all those around you!" They suddenly felt like they were flushed. Clearly this tirade was embarrassing them. "And I am so very sincerely sorry that I doubted you."

"I," Logan cleared their throat again. "Yes, well." They adjusted their glasses. "Apology accepted." Roman grinned easily at them. "In fact, I owe you one as well. I greatly underestimated your ability to possess different ideologies from your family line." Roman's smile became smaller.

"It's not exactly like I made that obvious through the years," he snorted. "You said you live in Bellatovi?" Logan nodded. "I'm sure the times I've been there didn't exactly paint an endearing picture," and he sounded distinctly bitter.

"Well, that's true, but-"

"Logan?" They were glad of the interruption. This whole new side of him that they were seeing was throwing them for a loop.

"Yes?"

"Have you always been like that?" And there were several ways that question could be taken. Still, he had been consistently surprising them all day, so they gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"Like what?" They attempted to not sound too accusatory or overly defensive- yet. But Roman smiled at him, eyes looking into theirs with no trace of mockery.

"So firm in your beliefs to where you don't care what other people may say about you." Ah. He surprised them yet again. "It's a most admirable trait," Roman went on as Logan yet again had to adjust their assessment of him. Clearly they must have been upset at all the mental reorganizing they were doing, they felt what was surely an angry flush rise to their cheeks.

"I suppose I've always been this way, then," they responded. They couldn't recall a time when they hadn't been. It certainly hadn't made them popular growing up.

"My brother is somewhat like that," Roman supplied. "I don't suppose you've seen him often, but he outright mouths off to any and every authority figure he comes across." He smiled, truer this time, "you two might get along, but, well, he's got a little more emphasis on 'annoy and disgust everyone he comes into contact with.'" He laughed. "But still, that ability to speak your mind is inspirational. I aspire towards an unflinching demeanor like yours." Luckily, the water chose that moment to boil, and Logan was saved having to come up with a suitable response.

Virgil came in with the noise of the whistle, phone in hand. He turned the stove off and said his goodbyes to, presumably, Patton. Roman watched him with a slightly odd expression, gaze squinty and intense.

"Yeah, okay. Yeah, I'll see you soon. Okay. Yeah. Alright. Yeah. Yeah. Okay, bye." Yes, definitely Patton, based on how fond his voice was. He looked at Logan and smirked in a knowing manner. "He did the apology-compliment thing to you, too, didn't he."

"Shut up." But Roman interrupted, voicing the reason for his staring.

"You had a phone this whole time and you never told me?!" He put his hands on his hips. Virgil flinched at the outburst, then blinked.

"Oh…uh, yeah." He scratched the back of his head.

"We could have been talking this entire winter, and we weren't?!" Virgil looked to one side.

"Guess I forgot," he mumbled. Logan frowned slightly. Virgil may have been big and intimidating when it came to humans he didn't like, but he was also sensitive, especially in dealing with people. Was he taking this too much to heart? Logan frowned slightly. Perhaps they should intervene. "Sorry, I-"

"No no, none of that," he flapped his hand as though physically waving the apology away, and with it Logan's annoyance about the direction of the conversation, and made a 'give it to me' motion with his hands. "Come on, let's exchange numbers! Let me fill your inbox with my charm."

"Implying that you have any to begin with?" Virgil smirked slightly, and Roman made a scoffing noise, but relented when Virgil did, in fact, set his phone down for him to add his information. Logan walked over to assist him on the giant phone. In truth, it was really only a big tablet, but it worked well enough for giants. Roman seemed to figure it out quickly enough, reaching for the numbers, and Logan was level with the screen as he input his name.

Roman 🤴😘💖

Logan closed off their face. Ugh. Maybe they shouldn't completely change their opinion on him, after all.

"Okay, great," Virgil reached out as Roman saved his contact information, grabbing his phone back. "So I'll just text you so that you have mine-" Virgil's cheeks turned red as he undoubtedly looked at the contact name. "In, in your phone?" His statement turned into a question as his voice briefly cracked.

Logan sighed to themself as Virgil began to take care of the tea after sending off a brief text. Well, they guessed there was nothing for them to be upset about, they thought as Roman's phone made a notification noise. However it was that he decided to put his name into Virgil's phone was no concern of theirs. It seemed unnecessarily flirtatious, but that was fine. It wasn't like they had a claim over who was allowed to flirt with whom. It wasn't like it bothered them, despite having known Virgil for so much longer than he did, despite how close they'd thought they were, despite all the interactions they'd had. Despite all the little…signs that they'd seen, or that they'd thought they'd seen, or they'd hoped they'd seen, despite what they'd seen between him and Patton, so they'd never said anything or done anything or even let themself think anything.

But it was fine. Because they were friends with Virgil. Nothing else besides his friend. And if Roman wanted to put his emojis, then that wasn't for them to have anything to do with in any manner.

They blinked and suddenly saw Roman's phone (based on the size, and the fact that he was holding it) outstretched into their face.

"You too, my Bellatovian buddy," he smiled at them. "I've got to have my lovely local law-repealer at arms in arms' reach!" Logan hesitated only briefly before taking it, and then reached into their pocket to hand him their own phone. After unlocking it, of course. As Virgil set his tea down, they changed phones back, and they saw their new contact.

Roman 🤴🥰💖

They were very glad they hadn't had any of the tea yet, as they're fairly certain they would have spat it out. Well. At least he was consistent.

Virgil placed the mug that Logan kept at Virgil's house for themself in front of them, filled with some of his tea.

"Thank you," they nodded at him.

"No problem," he nodded back as he dipped in a second mug, but Roman couldn't have possibly left a mug here under the circumstances he'd said, and Logan frowned, trying to see what Virgil was using. As he brought it to Roman, they realized.

"Is that the one I crafted?" They were incredulous. "You kept it? After all this time?" Virgil flushed.

"Yeah, well, you know, it was the first thing you made," he mumbled. Logan's own face became hot, clearly the steam of the un-drunk tea hitting their face was causing a reaction. Ah, well, they took a sip in lieu of a response, and noticed the flavor was slightly different than usual. Roman thanked Virgil as well, and when he finished his first sip his eyes went wide and a smile burst onto his face.

"You used lemon!" Roman pointed at Virgil, seeming accusatory, yet in a positive way. They didn't understand that, either. Virgil blushed for some reason, and slyly turned his own cup and saucer towards the two of them. There was, indeed, a slice of lemon on the plate. Roman laughed, and Logan felt that they were quite missing the joke.

"Yeah, yeah," Virgil smirked, trying to downplay his obvious fondness. "Don't get too cocky about it, mister 'let's get lost in the area of the strange giant.'"

"You're just upset that I'm a teaccoutrement genius!" He put a hand on his chest as Logan continued to sip at their tea. "That's tea accoutrement, by the way," he dropped the offended tone briefly, but then it picked back up. "And joke's on you, I don't regret that at all," Roman stuck his tongue out. "Especially since I got to meet you," he crossed his arms as Virgil's blush doubled.

"So," Virgil cleared his throat as he attempted to compose himself. "Patton said he'd do it, so as soon as you're ready, we can go." Roman pouted at him.

"Are you sure you won't reconsider going?" He pleaded, "it won't be the same without you."

"No, trust me, it'll be better off with me not there," though he looked undeniably pleased. "Besides, I'll keep Logan company back here." And now it was Logan's turn to be undeniably pleased, but before they could really think too much on it, Roman's head immediately whipped around towards them.

"But you're coming with us, aren't you?" He had an expression that was more devastated than they'd seen thus far. Even when they'd been flinging insults and limbs at him. They hesitated, thrown off. "We need you there- well, I can't actually speak for anyone else, but- I need you there!" He actually brought up his hands in a pleading position as Logan heated up with what was clearly some form of alarm. "Please, Logan? You've known them for longer, and you're so perfect for sticking up for them," Oh dear, not again. "You're like living proof of what we're trying to prove! And you don't back down, and you know the council, and Patton, and Virgil, and you'd be such an asset to everyone! And‐"

"Alright," they interrupted to prevent more compliments. Just so that they could expedite the conversation. Of course. "You have a point," which he did. "For their sakes, I'll accompany you to the meeting."

"Oh, thank you!" Roman was smiling bright as ever, again. "Thank you, thank you!" He leaned over into their space, but stopped short, and they flinched back only very very slightly, an eyebrow raised. "Sorry, do you mind if I hug you?" Logan pointedly did not look at his eyes (but refused to look at Virgil) which were oddly distracting for some reason. They didn't mind physical contact, so they nodded, and Roman finished leaning in, wrapping his arms tightly around them, despite the strange angle he had. They hesitantly leaned in his way and awkwardly patted him on the back. And, now there seemed to be no excusing it, they were blushing. Roman ended the hug and they went back to their respective positions.

"I'll be an acceptable last minute addition, then?" They shifted slightly as they voiced a concern of theirs.

"Oh, yeah," he waved it off, "the other town heads love me," and there was something off about that statement, but they couldn't put their finger on it. "Oh, I should probably let them know about the change of plans." And he took out his phone and began texting. Logan took another sip of tea. It really was good with the lemon. They all sat in silence for a moment, "Well, I gave you both a bad first impression, I don't want to do that again." Roman put his phone back and picked up his tea.

"So. Tell me about Patton."

-----

@callboxkat @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @thefivecalls @awkwardjester-blog @ollyollyoxinfree @intruxiety @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @kieraelieson @snowdice @callboxkat @10moonymhrivertam @just-some-gt-trash @evoodo123 @idont-freaking-know

[stellarhistoria]

"God is a woman in a skin tight dress and I'm too busy for distractions."

emrys tags

♡.   emrys.ic     ⁄ ⁄   lord magister .

♡.   emrys.aesthetic     ⁄ ⁄   lord magister .

♡.   emrys.visage     ⁄ ⁄   lord magister .

♡.   emrys.v01 ( main )     ⁄ ⁄   sunrise on the darkest day of winter .

♡.   emrys.v02 ( past )     ⁄ ⁄   a garden of peace & knowing it will wither .

♡.   emrys.about     ⁄ ⁄   a little on the weird side .

♡.   emrys.bond: ( alexios )     ⁄ ⁄   family means knowing you can come home .

♡.   emrys.thoughts     ⁄ ⁄   dancing to the tune gone unheard .

♡.   emrys.asks     ⁄ ⁄   an infinite library for an infinitesimal man .

[inkykeiji]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧 + 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

characters: vox, val, alastor, lucifer warnings: implied smut in some; 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink (+ papi for val), toxic relationships, pet/master dynamic (for alastor), reader is a bit of a brat with vox, implied drugging the night before (val), praise + pet names, fem!reader, reader is carried in val’s words: 2.7k

₊˚⊹ 𝐯𝐨𝐱 ⊹˚₊

You love mornings with your Daddy—truly, you do; love waking up next to him, slow and soft as his fingertips outline your features; love eating breakfast with him, feet kicking back and forth on one of the barstools as he prepares something simple for the two of you, know that he had to pull teeth to get the mornings off of work so he could spend them with you, getting you ready for the day and seeing you off—but there is one part, right at the very end, that you absolutely despise. 

Like everything with Vox, dental hygiene is a meticulous procedure, a rigorous routine with a set of immutable steps to be followed in the exact order Vox has laid them out in—carved into concrete, set in stone.

And, like everything else with Vox, no one knows how to perform them correctly except for him.

Still, it isn’t like you ever make it easy for him.

What else could he expect from his little troublemaker, really?

“Open up.” 

A thumb and a forefinger clamp down on the hinges of your jaw, palm wreathed around your chin, and squeeze, popping your mouth open with practiced efficiency.

“Daddy,” the word comes out as a stringy whine, slightly garbled, face crumpling in petulance. “Dun wanna.” 

Jerking a little in his grasp, you try to pull away from the advancing toothbrush slathered with translucent teal gel, and Vox clicks his tongue. 

“And I don’t care,” he says simply, fingers flexing in warning. “Good little girls need to brush their teeth—especially if they’ve eaten two bowls of sugary cereal for breakfast.” 

“But—”

Vox pulls back, face flattened into something serious. “Do you want cavities eating holes in your teeth?” 

“No—”

“Didn’t think so. Now hold still and let Daddy do this for you, yeah?” 

A groan vibrates on the back of your tongue, but your body goes pliant in his grasp, chin leaning into his pillowy palm.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs to himself, a small smug smile on his face.

Warmth blossoms in your chest, swells your lungs and stretches your ribs as you droop a little more beneath his praise and he chuckles, a fond little melody playing on his tongue, grip tightening infinitesimally. 

And he’s so precise with it all, maneuvers painstakingly perfect as he tilts your head one way, then the other, sure to scrub each tooth thoroughly, bristles scouring in little circular motions as he cleanses.

“Aaaah,” he hums, mimicking the action as he pries his mouth open wider, another praise falling from his lips as you instantly obey, allowing him to reach the molars at the very back of your mouth—brushing on top, on either side, behind, then on top again. 

“Tongue out.” 

Another whine sticks in your throat, brows pushing together and crinkling your forehead, open mouth downturned in a frown with a slight shake of your head, struggling against his hold.

“Come, now,” Vox chastises, but his voice is hard, fortified with a subtle threat. “You were doing so well for me—don’t start acting up, Daddy’s almost done.” 

His gaze holds yours steadily, a single eyebrow raising in question—are you really going to test me?—and you cave, again.

Reluctantly, your tongue unfurls from your mouth, face still scrunched in irritation as he scrapes the bristles across the muscle, working up a healthy lather, refusing to cease until that telltale disgruntled whine claws at your throat, evoking another one of those patronizing little chuckles.

“Alright, alright,” he’s pacifying as he tips a glass to your lips, a palm cupped protectively beneath your chin. “Rinse.” 

And, Christ, he loves how fucking obedient you are, even as the urge to misbehave bubbles behind your ribs, lips set in a deep pout as you follow his instructions, swishing a mouthful of water between your cheeks, waiting perfect and patient for his next order. 

“Spit.”

Oh, so compliant, so disciplined you are as you instantly spew blue liquid down the drain, a fierce sense of pride, of ownership, igniting deep within his soul, blazing bright and hot and strong, reflected in the amplified glowing of his eyes.

Your features are still scrunched up in a cute little pout, glaring at him through your lashes, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” A thumb runs along your forehead, attempting to iron out the crease between your brows in a gentle caress.

“It was awful.” 

“Fucking brat.” 

And he just can’t help but laugh out the word, the sting the insult should bring instantly negated by the tender affection it’s smothered in, turned soft and melty on his tongue.

No, you never make such endeavours painless for him, but you do always make them interesting, and for that, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

₊˚⊹ 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐨 ⊹˚₊

It’s late in the afternoon when Val decides it’s time to get up, deep crimson light spilling through the narrow gaps in his thick curtains and painting thin, long strokes across the shag carpet.

He doesn’t bother formally waking you as two of his hands scoop you from the nest of silk and cradle you to his body, chuckling out a coo as you automatically snuggle into his chest, legs latching around his waist. 

The haze of sleep still hangs heavy in your skull, a soft protest grumbled into his skin as he carries you somewhere, lids staying firmly glued shut, body beginning to melt into his again as the bliss of unconsciousness entices you with promises of whimsical dreams and relief from your aching muscles. 

Cold marble stings your bare thighs suddenly, forcing a small jolt through your form, a soft hiss exhaled from between your teeth.

“I know, I know, it’s cold,” Val pacifies, his voice a pleasant fog curling around your cheeks as he leans around you, tinkering with something.  

“Papi,” you whimper, reaching blindly for him, lethargic head falling forward, forehead pressed tightly to his sternum.

“Mmm, I’m here,” he murmurs distractedly, two of his hands still wrapped firmly around your hips as the other set busy themselves with uncapping a tube of toothpaste.

“Wanna go back to bed,” you slur out in a whine, nose nuzzling into his chest, fruitlessly looking for a place to rest your head, dense drowsiness curling the edges of your mind.

“But it’s time to get up, princesa,” he chides gently, a finger tracing the curve of your cheek. “You’ve been asleep for fourteen hours.” 

“M’still tired.” 

A hum of contemplation vibrates at the back of his tongue as a hand twines around your jaw, examining your face this way, then that, before tilting your chin up.

“Maybe I gave you a little too much last night,” he muses to himself through a dark snicker. “It’s kinda cute that you’re still this fucked up, though. Can’t even open your eyes for me, can you?” 

And you try, really, you do, attempting to heft your leaden lids, features screwing up cutely with the immense effort, and Val coos again, as if your intoxication is so pathetically precious—poor little girl can barely handle her Daddy’s drugs! How sweet.

“Well, that’s okay,” he purrs, first pair of hands slipping further beneath his dress shirt—a makeshift nightgown, his favourite nightgown on you—and tugging you closer to the counter’s edge. “You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about anything; Papi will do it for you.” 

A sound of indignation sticks in your throat as you finally pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh light of the bathroom, bleary gaze fixed on the sparkly pink toothbrush in one of his hands, face rumpling into a pout. 

Your lips press into a tight, firm line, sealing your mouth against the rapidly advancing utensil as your eyes slip shut again, weighted with narcotic-laced exhaustion, head shaking in messy little motions.

“C’mon, be co-operative,” the points of his nails dig into your skin, hard enough to leave superficial indents—a warning. “Don’t upset Daddy this early in the day, baby.” 

Wrenching your eyes open again, your nose twitches with a sniffle, chin beginning to quiver.

“But—But—Do I have to?”

“Yes, you have to,” he says, but his voice trembles with the effort to stay calm, to stay pleasant. “Your mouth is very dirty from last night, and it needs to be cleaned.”

A thick torrent of tears rush to cloud your vision, sudden and stinging, a hiccup stuttering your chest. The hand curved around your jaw tightens, yanking your face toward his own, foreheads knocking together.

“Now, open, before I make you open.”

Your jaw falls slack, a slave to his orders, unable to disobey a direct demand from its owner, and Val purrs, something wicked unravelling on his face, smile stretched sharp and sleazy from edge to edge, the glow in his eyes flaring with your instant compliance.

“Good girl.”

₊˚⊹ 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 ⊹˚₊

Alastor, you’ve come to learn, has a plethora of odd regimes; stringently scheduled customs that are non-negotiable, that extend to you, including brushing your teeth. 

It’s become routine, now—habitual, as most things with Alastor are—and your days no longer feel right without it; weird, off, incomplete. 

Because it’s become something of a comfort; something so simple, yet so intimate, something calming and rewarding, something to look forward to—a moment shared between the two of you, twice a day, once at the beginning, and once at the end. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you try tell him, the first time he insists on doing it, trying desperately to look over your shoulder as he ushers you into his ensuite.

“Nonsense!” he waves a hand in dismissal. “It isn’t a problem at all. Now, sit.” 

“Alastor—”

“Sit.” 

With a tiny frown, you perch gingerly on the edge of the bathtub, fingers curling around the rim.

“I’m serious,” you murmur, teeth nibbling superficially at the skin of your lip, wary eyes watching as he flits with practiced ease around the bathroom, a twinge of confusion settling in your chest, something akin to shame sitting thick and bitter on the back of your tongue. “I can do it myself…” 

“I know you can,” he replies simply, focused on depositing a strip of white toothpaste on your toothbrush. 

“Then…” you blink up at him, watching him advance with wide eyes, shoulders shrinking as he blankets you in his shadow. “Why are you doing it for me?” 

Irritation twitches at the edges of his grin, Alastor exhaling a controlled sigh.

“Because,” he begins, keeping his voice light, taking your chin between his index finger and thumb. “A good Master takes proper care of his pet.” 

His grip strengthens, tilting your face up further, his form looming over your own as you sit, vulnerable and exposed, beneath his touch. Crimson eyes glow as they scour your face, his back bent at an uncomfortable angle as he practically curls around you, the scent of earth and cedar tinged with copper wafting across your face with his calm, even breaths. 

“Besides,” he continues, voice dropped an octave lower, his nose nearly nudging yours. “I couldn’t possibly trust you to do it adequately.” 

A cruel little chuckle plays on his tongue, as if the mere thought itself is preposterous, the sound stinging as it seeps into your cheeks, hot and full of spikes. 

“Now, open.” 

Instantly, your mouth falls agape, and Alastor’s smile stretches infinitesimally wider, a sharp glint flaring in his eyes.

“A good owner maintains their pet’s hygiene,” he explains as he works, gaze fixed intently on his actions, cleansing with a meticulous sort of vigilance. “Bathes them, grooms them, dresses them—performs all of the basic necessities a pet needs to appear presentable.”

His hand shifts slightly, angling your head to the side, and you follow easily, malleable in his grasp, his smile shimmering. 

“And I pride myself on taking very good care the things that belong to me.”

And, really, he does. Because Alastor doesn’t just brush your teeth with rigorous care, conscientiously certain to cleanse every dip and gap; he flosses them, too, with gentle hands and painstaking precision, then ensures you’ve rinsed with germ-killing, enamel-strengthening mouthwash for exactly forty-five seconds, counting uniformly and observing with large, unblinking eyes as you adhere to his every instruction, cheeks bulging with burning liquid, eyes squinting from the intensity, but never daring to blink, to glance away, to stop at all. 

“Look at you,” he purrs after you’ve spit down the drain, gazing back up at him with a sort of desperate devotion—demented, devious, damned to his hell—syrupy condescension dripping from his teeth. “So well behaved for me, aren’t you?”  

A palm cups your jaw, his thumb running across your cheek in rhythmic strokes, the tip of his claw caressing your skin with just enough pressure to leave behind shallow scratches. 

“What, hoping Master will give you a treat for being so obedient?” 

“No, Sir,” you whimper out, voice gone dreamy as you nuzzle into his hand. “You taking such good care of me is more than enough.” 

Something sinister oozes into his face, something that contorts his smile and corrodes his eyes, leaving behind nothing but raw hunger, like he’s about to devour you whole, pops of static fizzing thickly in his voice. 

“That’s my good girl.” 

₊˚⊹ 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 ⊹˚₊

Everything hurts, muscles stiff and aching and full of sand, your motions clumsy and cumbersome as you attempt to brush your teeth, joints creaking with every slight shift.

Fatigue blurs the edges of your eyes, your vision fading out of focus again, mind gone fuzzy as you try your best to concentrate on your movements—up, down, all around, repeat—features screwing up in a wince as you catch the harsh bristles on your gums, again. 

“You’re making a bit of a mess, sleepyhead,” Lucifer’s tender chuckle pulls you from your foggy stupor, a quiet hum vibrating in your throat as you look over at him in question, the gesture lethargic and delayed. 

“You’ve got some—Here,” he says softly, hands curling around your shoulders and turning you to face him, then tilting your chin up. “May I?”

Another affirmative sounds on the back of your tongue and Lucifer uses his thumb to carefully clean the foaming paste collecting at the corners of your mouth, then catching a slow dribble streaming down your chin with a deft knuckle. 

A frown mars his face, his forehead creasing beneath the strain, his other hand stroking your shoulder as worried eyes search your face, slow and careful.

“Is everything okay, sweetheart?” he asks. “You’re really struggling to brush your teeth.”

“Jus—really tired,” you mumble through the bubbles in your mouth, Lucifer skillfully catching another trickle of watery paste, concern tugging at the corners of his lips, frown deepening.

“Do you want me to do it for you?” 

Sleepy eyes blink up at him, slow and sluggish, your hazy mind taking a moment to process the question.

“Mhmm,” you finally nod, hand loosening the instant his fingers skim yours, allowing him to gently uncurl your grip from around the base of your toothbrush, his own effortlessly taking its place. 

“Alright, alright, Daddy will help you,” he’s pacifying in a murmur, but his gaze has turned melty, glow dimmed and pupils gaping, lids heavy with love. “Poor thing…Last night was a long night for you, huh?” 

“S’a lot,” you confirm in a messy mumble, lids drooping heavily with the weight of exhaustion.

“Yeah?” his thumb rubs loving little circles into your jaw as he works, gaze trained on his task. “Was Daddy a little too rough with you?” 

The question is uttered out tenderly, full of sympathy and care, his brow furrowing as his eyes flit back to yours, searching for veracity in your pupils.

“Maybe I should be a bit gentler next—”

“No!” you cough around the refusal, puffy lids snapping open suddenly, the unexpected vehemency causing Lucifer to flinch.

“No?” he laughs, and it’s warm with affection, his features, hard with worry, mollifying beneath fondness, amorous amusement twinkling daintily in his eyes. 

“No,” you whine out with a tiny pout, head shaking a little in his grasp. “Please.”

“Okay,” the pad of his thumb runs along your cheek, his stare trailing after it. “If nothing else, at least Daddy will always be there to take care of you the morning after.”

[mymegumi]

GROWING PAINS ෆ GOJO SATORU

⠀ word count: 7.2k ⠀ summary: meeting up with the local college’s notorious ⠀ player, gojo satoru, for a group project, you’re shocked to ⠀ discover he’s actually a virgin and has never slept with ⠀ single soul that says they have. now, you find him endearing ⠀ and even offer to solve that pesky virginity problem for him. ⠀ warnings: afab!reader, college au, virgin!gojo, strangers to ⠀ more, corruption kink, top-esque!reader, porn w plot, ⠀ mommy kink, pet names (used by both parties ; baby), ⠀ gojo is whiney in bed, praise kink, oral (m rec), ⠀ unprotected sex, creampie, gojo is taller than reader

this project is gonna burn in flames, and you’re determined to set the match. you don’t even know how you’re going to get anything done, since your only partner is gojo satoru—if you at least had one other partner, you think there might’ve been a sliver of hope, but no, you got unluckily stuck in the class’s only group of two. the academic gods were frowning down upon you and you don't know what you could've done to have incited such wrath.

you're sitting in the library, waiting for gojo to show up for the first meeting that you'd both scheduled and he was currently nowhere to be found. you'd been waiting almost, like, a half an hour past your scheduled time and you were beginning to feel as if you were just going to give up on this. maybe you'd just work on the project yourself and email your professor what had happened, not to throw gojo under the bus, but also for him to not take credit for your hard work.

"you're kidding." there's been a commotion happening from the front of the room, but you’ve been playing your music up a notch from where it normally was to drown out the chatter. “oh em gee, there’s no way you actually know him!”

a laugh rings out across the front of the library—all of the private and quiet study rooms on the second floor had been occupied, so you’d been forced to make-do on the first floor—and the familiarity of it makes your blood boil. turning your head infinitesimally slowly, as if the slower you move the longer you can prolonge the inevitable, you find yourself face to face with your group project partner.

gojo satoru is as he normally is—carefree and unknowing to the situation he puts his peers in when he is, assumedly, knowingly late. he stands taller than you, though by a few inches or half a foot, you’re not sure. you try not to get close enough to him to tell, honestly. his eyes are a piercing blue and whenever he has a presentation at the front of the class, you feel as if you have to look away or divert your own gaze from his. as if holding his gaze was taboo, or made you feel shy. when his hair was on the longer side, it curled around his neck in soft, subtle waves before he would crop it close to his scalp again, leaving just the top parts of his hair wispy and natural. his skin was on the paler side, too, and sometimes you had to imagine he was truly an angel put on this earth to torture you.

you didn’t necessarily not get along with him. he was, on the rare occasion the two of you needed to speak to one another, kind and courteous of you. his humor was a bit similar to yours, and he always held the door for you after class if he was in front of you, but gojo wasn’t entirely out-of-his-way nice to you. again, but neither were you towards him. you didn’t mean to actively avoid him. sometimes, if you saw him walking towards you, though, you might think to make a quick detour you wouldn’t have before.

gojo satoru had a bit of a reputation. a reputation that you’d like to avoid at all costs because it was, for lack of a better word, messy. from all of the rumors on campus, gojo liked to sleep around a little bit. more power to him, but you’d also watched guys do that in your hometown, and watched them break your best friend’s hearts. you didn’t need a guy like that to be your friend or in your life at all.

this group project, in all honesty, would be the first time you and gojo would spend more than fifteen minutes together. hopefully, just working on the project and nothing more—no talk of pussy, dick, boobs, or ass allowed. just the economic turmoil faced by the lower classes and how the corporate world dictated everything. simple and easy.

“it’s true, i swear.” gojo’s smile is bright, illuminating his face as he adjusted the bookbag on his shoulder uncomfortably—his eyes darting around the library as if looking for something. when they lock onto your figure, clad in a college sweatshirt and jeans hunched over your books, is when you realize he’s looking for you. “i’d love to tell you more about him, but i have to go work on a project. so sorry about that.”

there’s the sound of a few girls pouting because, as if it wasn’t bad enough he was causing a commotion, he was causing a commotion while surrounded by about three or four girls. gojo peels himself away, waving goodbye with a toothy smile as he walks towards you. his stride is long—stupid long legs—and he reaches you in mere seconds, towering over you as he sets his bags and laptop on the empty space in front of you.

“thank god i found you.” his voice is low, but the emotion on his face doesn’t change, continually cheerful as his words differ. “they wouldn’t stop following me when i left the coffee shop. i was on time to meet you and they couldn’t take a hint, no matter how many times i walked around center square.”

“and here i thought you just wanted to skip our study session.” it’s deadpan, the tone you normally reserve for people you find annoying and gojo satoru. somehow you’re just now realizing the two categories are the same.

“no way am i missing our study date.” he slides into his seat now, hands a flurry of pulling out papers and typing his password into his laptop and getting pens out and organizing them. it makes your head spin a little just watching him. “i had to suffer through thirty minutes of ‘geto? geto suguru? omg you know him, how do you know him?’ and i need a reward.”

now that is a lot to unpack. “gojo satoru, this is not a date.” you feel as if this is the first thing that needs to be clarified, as you don’t think you want it to be going around that you consider this a date, or even want to consider this a date. the next part you don’t want to consider is the fact that gojo, in his mind, finds hanging out with you in any sort of capacity more rewarding than being fawned over. even if it’s just for girls to say they want to get to know his best friend.

“date, shmate.” he waves a hand around, lips pursed as he turns his head away. “we’re hanging out and getting to know each other. friend date.”

“‘friend date’?” you ask incredulously, eyebrows high on your forehead as you let your mouth hang open. it’s not the idea of it that makes you feel as if he’s playing with you, but the fact he’s being so openly relaxed about it. you thought gojo satoru didn’t date, that he was only fucking people and that was it. “do you even date people?”

“if it’s the right person.” he says it with a smile, eyes shining as he lets his lashes droop a little to look at you. “i’d date anyone if i knew they were going to be just as good to me as i would to them.”

it’s in this moment, inexplicably, that you begin to realize that for all gojo satoru is cocky and undeniably charming, he has the looks to back it up. sure, you’ve looked at him before and noticed he is very attractive and can be objectively considered handsome but you’re looking at him now, really looking at him, and you can feel your heart fluttering softly. it feels like a betrayal on an instinctual level—your own body chemistry reacting positively towards gojo.

he’s tall. taller than you even sitting down, and he’s looking down at you somehow even though you’re average height and will continue to insist on being of average height until the day you die. his skin is, of course, impeccably flawless but upon closer inspection, has very few blemishes and minor scars that could be anything from cat scratches to scrapes from trees or a clumsy personality. gojo’s eyes are some of the palest blue you’ve ever seen, and under their direct scrutiny, they seem to make you feel hot under your collar. you’re not used to having his undivided attention on you, but you think you could get used to it.

“the working class mentality stems from a distinct lack of motivation to do anything other than work.” you start, eyes casting downwards as you realize you’ve just been staring at him without saying anything. your leg begins to bounce under the table with the left over anxiety you can’t manage to bottle away. “if this statement is true, why is it that the work culture is toxic then?”

“what do you mean by toxic?” the two of you flawlessly switch from teasing to seriously working and it makes you breathe a bit easier. gojo leans down a bit, left hand disappearing under the table and a second later, you can feel his hand resting a few fingers on your knee gently. it provides a sort of grounding feeling and it stills the anxious leg’s shaking. “some of the sources i was reading the other day tried to explain it, but i couldn’t quite grasp what they meant.”

and you let the academia of it all lull you into a sense of security. eventually, gojo’s hand drifts from your leg but you feel it there even after it’s withdrawn, warm and sort of calming. you know that he’s much smarter than you’ve ever given him any sort of credit for—he keeps up with you and for every challenging question you give him to work on, he gives you a mental block that you have to work on, too. it’s nice, really. nice enough that you give him your number in case he has any questions on the work the two of you had mutually agreed to work on separately.

⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ⠀ is this that old lady w the candy?? im standing outside the ⠀ abandoned old house at the edge of the woods but i don’t ⠀ see a light on (・・;)ゞ

you laugh a little bit, eyes roving over the text gojo has sent you. when you had given him your phone to put a contact in, you hadn’t expected him to put ‘gojo (o˘◡˘o)’ as his contact name, but it bubbles a laugh out of you every time you see his notification slide onto your screen. you’re also unsurprised to know he texts with an absurd amount of emoticons—they’re oddly fitting for his personality.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ from: you ⠀⠀ oh yeah, i forgot to pay the electricity bill this month, so just come on in. don’t worry about the skeletons on ur way ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀in, they’re just for decoration

you are surprised at how easy it is to talk to gojo. even just when you were sitting at the library desk talking about the project and about random odds and ends, the conversation flowed easily. there were no lulls in the conversation where you worried about what you had to say next, or awkward silences when you thought you had something wrong. it just kept snowballing until it had been at least a few hours since the two of you had started working. you had separated with a light feeling in your chest, proven wrong about your first assessment of his character.

gojo satoru seemed to be a good man, his out of class proclivities forgotten. for now, at least.

⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ⠀ do u rmbr that movie we were talking abt today?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀from: you ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ bruh no fckin way ur tryna talk abt alien v pred again

⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ITS A GOOD MOVIE I SWEAR

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀from: you ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ how good of a movie can it be man

⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ⠀ my roommate n i r (illegally) streaming it soon tnight if u ⠀ wanna come watch. jus smth chill (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ from: you ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ is it gojo satoru chill or actually chill?

⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ⠀ wtf does gojo satoru chill mean ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)

there’s a part of you that wonders if it’s rude of you to be so blasé about his sex life, making jokes every other minute and saying them to his face, and then he makes comments like this—seemingly oblivious to his reputation and what people are saying about him. specifically what people are saying about things they do with him. you’ve heard more about gojo’s cock than you’d care to admit, but maybe the reason you agree to go over is because you’re curious. not about his cock, but about whether the rumors are true, about gojo in general.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ from: you ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ nvm. i’m down. addy?

so now, you’re at gojo and geto’s door at their dorm building, popcorn and a six pack of coca cola’s in your hand as you wait for him to open the door for you. it was an impulsive choice, since you had half a mind to just go to bed and watch anime for the rest of the night. but there’s something about his energy that made you want to hang out with him more, even if in the company of his magnanimous and heavily sought after roommate.

“yo, satoru!” you hear shouting from within, and you’re positive you can hear something falling over. “stop running. walk like a normal person.”

“don’t open the door!” it’s muffled, but you’re positive that’s what gojo’s response is. shortly after, you watch the door fling open with a breathless gojo behind it, eyes bright and smile wide. “welcome to our humble abode!”

“emphasis on humble.” geto mutters, thoroughly kicked to the side now.

the dorm apartment is nice, a simple layout of just a large living space with an open kitchen attached. there are a few doors that you can only assume lead to bedrooms and a bathroom, but the lights are all dimmed so you can’t tell bathrooms from bedroom. the living area has a couch and an arm chair surrounding a small, partially broken coffee table and entertainment center with a particularly out-of-place fancy television. there’s various odds and ends on shelves scattered around the apartment, as well as a few viney plants toppling over each shelf. a cat feeder and bowl is in the living room and you can see the tail of a sweet looking white cat every few seconds, though you never see the cat itself from where you’re standing.

you nod your head, holding out the housewarming gifts you’d brought with you. “i brought a whole box ‘cause i didn’t know if it’d be just us or more people.”

you had been expecting something of a small party, considering that geto and gojo had a reputation of being something of party animals. from your short view of the entryway, though, it seems as if it’s just the two boys and yourself.

“as if i’d invite anyone else for alien versus predator.” gojo scoffs, taking the box and ripping it open, throwing a single package of popcorn into the microwave. “you think any of the pleebs we go to school with understand the nuances and underlying themes of that masterpiece the way we would?”

“i’m still not even sure you can call alien versus predator a masterpiece, let alone say it has nuances.” you shake your head, shedding your outer layer until you’re left in your sweater and leggings. “but i’m more than happy to play devil’s advocate.”

“when was the last time i even watched alien versus predator.” geto mumbles from the arm chair in the living room, a ratty old green thing that’s covered in claw marks and has dangling strings from every angle on it. “i was probably high when i saw it, man.”

“as is the only way to see it the first time.” gojo concludes, nodding sagely as the sound of soft pops plays as background noise. “but you’re also probably bailing halfway through, aren’t you?”

the aforementioned male nods his head, bangs drooping into and then away from his face as he leans his head back onto the armchair’s back to look at his roommate. “yeah, got a study session with that hot chick from economics.”

“fuck yes, study session with that hot chick from economics!” gojo cheers, arms going up to ‘raise the roof’ and doing little spins in his spot as the microwave announces the popcorn is done. “we’ll be here, meriting the debate of alien or predator. don’t miss us too much.”

“i absolutely never miss you.”

“oh you big liar, i know it’s hard to express your feelings in front of people other than me, so i’ll excuse it for now.” the white-haired male shakes his head and pulls the popcorn out, shaking it and pulling on two corners to open the buttery goodness. “but, our guest, please feel free to sit wherever you like, except for the fire escape because it’s definitely not up to code and i can’t go to jail yet.”

“yet?” you parrot, making your way into the apartment without your shoes on and just a pair of socks, sliding slightly on the laminate flooring. “you’re leaving during alien predator? that has to be some sort of blasphemy.” you direct your last question towards geto now, sitting on the couch and crossing your legs underneath each other.

“i’m considered a heretic now.” he says, leaning over conspiratorially and cupping a hand over his mouth so gojo can’t hear it. “but he likes me too much to disown me, yet.”

“i’ve disowned you at least four times in the last week alone.” gojo says now, coming in between where you and geto had been conspiring and sits on the empty spot of the couch. he’s closer now, obviously, but gojo satoru is in your space and it gives you a second to recollect your breathing. “start the movie so you can at least watch someone die before you leave.”

gojo’s sitting close enough to you that you can feel his body heat radiating towards you now. it might be because of the cold weather outside, but you swear he’s like a radiator. geto is fiddling with the laptop connected to the television with an hdmi cord, so gojo turns to you and all of a sudden, it feels as if it’s only the two of you in the room.

“come here often?” he says while throwing popcorn in his mouth and chewing lazily. he’s got an easy going grin on his face and he leans towards you, arm resting on the back of the couch, but it feels as if he’s resting it around your shoulders.

you shrug, leaning your head back to knock against his arm gently and he tugs on a strand of your hair. it’s oddly intimate and it makes your legs tighten. “only for guys obsessed with alien versus predator, i guess.”

"thank god there's only one of those on campus." geto says it under his breath, avoiding eye contact with gojo as he wipes fake sweat from his brow. "sorry for you that it's gojo satoru."

"if i were any girl on campus, i'd be floored to know gojo likes alien versus predator." you snort, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth. you remember at the last second that it's rude to eat with your mouth open, so you swallow before you finish your thought. "half the campus wants to sleep with him, the other half seems to have already done it."

while it was at gojo's expense, you had imagined your joke would have merited a laugh or at least a pity chuckle, but instead, gojo and geto share a look. the charged energy that passes between the two of them isn't lost on you, but you don't know what it is that it could mean. you're worried that it means that maybe you were right on your first overall assessment of him and your avoidance of him wasn't untoward—maybe gojo satoru is just a playboy that can't take a joke.

geto shakes his head, leaning forward and pressing his palms into his thighs as he gets up, as if he were leaving a family function that's definitely gone on for too long and finally wants to go home. "well, i have to go meet up with that hot chick from econ, and maybe even learn her name. so i'm going to leave you two here to enjoy aliens and predators. i will be gone all night, do with that what you will."

the feeling of dread begins to sink into your skin. you thought gojo had invited you here tonight because the two of you had made some sort of connection that went above him wanting to sleep with you. geto's crude and offhanded remark makes it seem as if gojo had intended for you to sleep with him, and while you would've when you first came, the thought that the only reason he invited you over was to sleep with you makes you rescind the idea immediately.

you were stupid to think that maybe you could ‘figure him out’, to think that maybe things could be different than what you’d heard about.

geto's out of the door and it's shutting soundly when you turn to gojo, clear disbelief in your eyes if the apologetic hands in front of him are to mean anything.

"this isn't what you think it is." gojo says.

you seethe under your skin. "and what, pray tell, do you think i think it is?"

he gives you an awkward, fucking endearing, smile. "that i invited you over with the excuse to watch a movie but i really only wanted to fuck?"

bingo.

"is that why you invited me tonight?" your eyebrows furrow together as you begin to scooch as far into the couch arm as you can, granted it isn't very far away from gojo.

he sighs. "no, i just wanted to watch aliens versus predator with you."

"okay, so why did your roommate have to mention that he was going to be gone all night. feels a bit weird if all we're doing is watching a movie, doesn't it?" you tighten your lips into a line, raising your eyebrow and punctuating the end of your interrogation with a sharp tilt of your head.

gojo drops his gaze from yours, looking at the television where someone is getting gored by the alien. you image it's gojo in your head unapologetically. "i didn't anticipate us sleeping together, no. i might have mentioned to geto, though, that i wouldn't hate the idea of it."

"'wouldn't hate the idea of it'?" you echo, hands coming up to put air quotes around his statement. " that's fucking rich considering you fuck anything on two legs, but when it comes to sleeping with me, you would just tolerate it."

you move to get off the couch, legs unfurling from under you and your hands pressing into the soft cushiony feeling when you feel gojo's hand wrap around your bicep. "wait! that's not what i meant, i wouldn't just tolerate sleeping with you!"

"okay, so what the fuck do you mean, gojo, 'cause from where i'm standing, all i'm seeing is you being an inconsiderate asshole." you want to pull your arm from his grasp but he's got a firm hold on you—not tight enough to hurt or bruise you, but strong enough to keep you in place. if it weren't to keep you from bolting from his apartment for bruising your ego, you'd think it send fireworks in your belly.

"you don't understand." he says, looking up at you now and seeing that he's battling with what he's saying and what he really means.

you sigh, deeply, because you have an inkling of feelings for him and you want to know if what he truly meant was just to hurt you, or if there's something else to what he said. "so help me understand."

gojo stands, hands twisting and turning with each other and he begins to pace around the small space in front of the couch and the television. "so, i know that i have a reputation for being, like, this douche who just sleeps with anything with a pulse, and honestly it never really bothered me before."

you're silent, letting him continue with what he's saying and hoping he won't lose his nerve before he finishes.

"what geto was saying was some stupid joke because i had said something earlier about how you were really pretty and i thought i might actually have a chance to take you on a date sometime because i thought that we were vibing really well." he rambles, shaking his head at himself. "but he said it in a stupid way, and i didn't just invite you over to sleep with me, because i've never ever done that before! i've never invited anyone over before to watch a movie and hoping that they’ll just spontaneously wanna fuck."

"you've never netflix and chill'd someone before?" you say it incredulously because even as you say it outloud, it feels like something you've lied about. "never?"

he says your name softly, kneeling in front of you with your hands in his as he gives you a grim face. "i've never even fucked anyone before."

this revelation feels like a very bold-faced lie. a preposterous, almost presumptuous lie that only the likes of gojo satoru himself could try and pass off. you scoff, hands pulling away from his as you lean back into the couch, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

“wait!” he cries softly, hands falling to the couch as you pull your body away from him, attempting to go around him but freezing at his outburst. “i mean it, i’m still a virgin.”

“what the fuck?” spills from your mouth before you can think to filter yourself, but you’re just flabbergasted at this point. your brows have never been more furrowed but you’re rubbing at your head as you shake it. “you do realize half the campus has said they’ve slept with you, right?”

one of his shoulders comes up in a defeated half-shrug. “yeah, it started when i was a freshman. one girl got mad i didn’t sleep with her, but she said i had anyways. from there, it just snowballed.”

“why didn’t you deny it?”

he collapses now, falling from his kneeling position to sit on his ass, hands holding up his weight behind him. “what’s the point? either people believe me and then i’m weird for not sleeping with someone, or people don’t believe me and i’m called a liar.”

“don’t you want to get back at that girl for lying?” you tilt your head to the side, mouth still open slightly in disbelief. “i mean, it doesn’t bother you at all that she’s the reason people call you a whore?”

“whoa now,” his lips go from slack to an easygoing half smile, “i don’t know about whore but no, it doesn’t bother me. usually just means at parties i have to decline a lot of advances, but then again, i’d rather just avoid parties at that point.”

“so, like,” you pause, thinking of the words you’re trying to say and you’re momentarily mesmerized by the beauty of gojo, who’s just watching you quietly and waiting for you to gather yourself, “you’ve never… pee pee in vagina?”

his laugh sounds like little angels and you shift uncomfortably, realizing there’s a part of you that likes that he’s a virgin. that he hasn’t ever slept with anyone before, that there are parts of him that a single soul hasn’t ever seen. “that’s the gist of it, yeah.”

“do you want to change that?” the question is out of your mouth before you can think twice—an impulse that you hadn’t expected to need to curb, but when it’s out in the open, you realize that it’s exactly what you want to do.

you wanna take his virginity.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen gojo speechless before, because he was always talking—to geto, to some random girl, to you lately. he’s perpetually avoiding silence like it scared him, but this is the first time you’ve ever seen him actually at a loss for words. you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “wh-what? i though you got mad at me for inviting you over to fuck.”

you shrug. “i got mad ‘cause i thought you were being presumptuous by inviting me over for something ‘chill’ just to want to fuck.”

“shouldn’t i be offended that you found out i’m a virgin and now you want to fuck?” he raises an eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth is lifting.

“intensely offended.” you nod, watching him as he crawls back towards the couch, hand winding around your calf carefully. “are you? offended, i mean.”

gojo leans forward, pressing his lips lightly to your knee and it’s your turn to swallow thickly, mouth dry all of a sudden. “very. need you to make it up to me.”

you groan softly, leaning down to press your hand to his and your forehead knocks against his lightly. looking at him, his incredibly incandescent blue eyes that seem to see straight through all the fronts and walls you try to put up and nudge your nose against his. the position makes your neck ache but you can’t force yourself to move, too gravitated towards gojo. you can feel his breath fan across your mouth hotly and you can see his eyelashes fanning across his cheeks, though you’re grounded by the feeling of his hand’s warmth through your pants. “how?”

you can feel the way his hand shakes ever so slightly against your leg, can feel the way your muscles are spasming gently as he runs his hand up your leg, just barely touching you. his grip becomes firm again against the outside of your thigh, tilting his head up until your lips are millimeters away, practically breathing in each other's air.

"kiss me."

your lips crash against his with a fervor you hadn't realized you had in you. his lips are slightly dry, and the position is making your neck feel almost like it's about to fall off, but you couldn't think of a better kiss with him.

his hand flies from your thigh to cup the side of your face, the other one coming to rest on your waist as he pushes onto his knees, kneeling now between your legs. with you sitting on the couch and him kneeling, he's at the perfect height to ease the pain in your neck and to wrap your arms around his neck comfortably.

gojo pulls away from the kiss, but there's not even enough time to feel disappointed because he's already pressing your lips together again, this time with a bit of a slight opening. you take this as your chance to slide your tongue along his bottom lip, asking for permission to press deeper. you want to suck on his tongue, to feel him get hard from your kisses, to know gojo in a way that no one ever has before.

you've fucked before, and you've definitely had your fair share of disappointing experiences, so you want to make sure gojo's first time is better than—if not the best experience you could give him.

“bedroom?” he mutters against your mouth, moaning softly at the feeling of your tongue sweeping across his mouth again and you make a soft noise when he nips it gently with his teeth. “or couch?”

“do you want me to blow you on the couch or on the bed?” you ask back, hands roaming across his back and rucking up the ends of his shirt to feel his skin, smooth and warm. “‘cause i’m okay with either. want you to be comfortable.”

you can feel him shifting his weight around, and with a simple nudge of his hand on your thigh, you’re winding your legs around his waist. you’re not sure how he manages to stand from the position he’s in, but one minute you’re sitting on the couch, the next minute you’re in the air as gojo carries you towards his bedroom. your lips never leave his, and while he presses you against his bedroom door, hand fumbling with the knob, you bite his lip.

“oh god,” he whispers, eyes reverently roaming your face as he gets the door open, “i want you so bad, baby.”

opening the door, he walks you in the room and does a little bit of a spin, sitting down on the bed with you straddling his lap. he leans back on the bed, just looking at you. you’re not sure what he’s looking for, but you feel almost shy under his gaze, unused to the undivided attention.

“i want to kiss you.” he mumbles, cheeks all of a sudden getting rosy red and the sight of it makes your chest tighten—he’s so pretty. “but i also really want… you to blow me.”

“s’okay.” you respond, hands sliding down from his shoulders, across his chest and to his belt. you get up and maneuver yourself off of the bed, kneeling at the edge with your knees pressing into the plush carpet. “help me with the buckle, baby?”

“yes, mommy.” he breathes, hands immediately flying to his buckle and wiggling out of his jeans as fast as you think a person could get out of pants. the moniker he calls you sends a chill down your spine, unused to the term but not disliking it in any way. “is it— is it okay that i called you that?”

you nod, distracted by the bulge in gojo’s black underwear—large, twitching every so often, and you think you can see a dark spot right at his tip. it’s long, longer than you had been expecting, and it’s just girthy enough for you to wrap your whole hand around it. he bucks his hips into your hand, as if it was an impulse he couldn’t control, his own hand coming up to bite back the moan he can’t help but let out.

your eyes flicker to his, watching the way his rosy cheeks begin to spread, trailing to his chin and down his neck. his chest is heaving, as if every breath is a labor, and you can hear soft whimpers leaving his mouth every time you press your fingers firmly, or during the slow, agonizing strokes you’re giving his shaft.

you’re watching him unravel, and you’re practically salivating at the thought of his sounds when you finally wrap your mouth around him, much less when he’s finally inside of you.

freeing his cock from his boxers, you let the fabric pool at his ankles as you slot yourself between his legs further, watching him lean back and support his weight with a hand bunched in his comforter. "oh fuck."

stroking his shaft without the boxers in the way makes gojo's eyes roll to the back of his head, your skin smooth against his skin and your thumb rubbing gentle little circles on his tip. his cock has little veins running along the shaft and the tip is red, as if straining for something. "feels so fucking good."

there's a whine that's in the back of his throat that makes your arousal pool in your panties, and you begin to move your hips side to side, as if trying to get any sort of friction to relieve yourself. you want to finger yourself, press your fingers to your clit and get rid of this aching need in your pussy, but your hands are busy with gojo's cock, holding it steady as you flatten your tongue.

pressing the flat of your tongue against the underside of his cock, you relish the sound of desperation, of need, that gojo makes. it sounds halfway between a whimper and a moan, and it makes you swirl your tongue around his tip just to see if you can get another sound out of him.

"holy shit."

his hand is in your hair now, pushing the strands that had fallen into your face and moving them out of your way. he holds your hair loosely at the base of your neck and when you meet his gaze, he's biting his lip and groaning softly. his eyes are lidded, drowsy with lust and need, and it looks as if he's shaking, as if from the tension it takes to hold back from bucking his cock all the way into your mouth.

hallowing your cheeks, you push yourself up to sit on your heels and take as much of gojo's lengthy cock into your mouth, relaxing as much as you can to take him even further until he's hitting the back of your throat and then some. there are tears now, streaming down your face and gojo looks almost as if he's enjoying the sight of them, of his cock down your throat and tears pooling in your eyes.

pulling back until just the tip of his dick is in your mouth, you let your hand rub the parts of him that your mouth couldn't reach. gojo lets his head fall back, neck exposed to the ceiling as he moans wantonly. his grip tightens on your hair, making your pull back just a bit further and scrape your teeth against him by accident. he flinches, but then lets go of your hair to pull you off his cock fully.

"holy fuck, i think i was about to come." he mutters, breathless and chest rising and falling rapidly as he looks at you, hair disheveled and messed up. "i didn't wanna come before i got to fuck you."

in no time, you're both shedding your clothes and making out on the bed again, this time he's hovering over you while you wind your arms around his neck. you're nipping gently at his lips, relishing the nervous and tentative way he's touching you—as if, if he touches you wrong, you'll disappear from underneath him.

his hands are shaking, cupping your breasts and thumbing your nipples. pushing your chest into his hand, you moan and nod fervently when he gives you a look for approval.

"d'you wanna fuck me, gojo?" you whisper, pressing your lips wetly against his neck.

he whines, hand fisting the sheets until his knuckles turn white and he rubs his cock against the wetness of your cunt, slippery with your arousal. "call me by my first name."

you blink, surprised by his need for intimacy, but you're not one to deny him what he wants right now, the need for his cock too deeply ingrained in your brain at t his moment in time. his cock glides across your pussy again, rubbing against your clit and your moans come out breathless. "satoru, please, please fuck me."

and you're smart, you should've asked him to put a condom on to protect yourself just in case anything happens, but he's a virgin. he's never fucked anyone in his life, so there's no way he's got an std or anything, and you've been on the pill since you were young, so the thought of pregnant doesn't cross your mind. the only thing that crosses your mind is that you're about to have gojo satoru's cock in you and you want to relish every sound he makes when he finally, finally fucks you.

holding his shaft, he lines up his reddening tip to your cunt, hips stuttering as he begins to push himself into you. his face is twisted in what seems to be both pleasure and agony, but you're pretty sure it's because he's holding himself back for you, not wanting to rush his first time.

"you're so fucking—" his voice is coming out high, almost to the point of a whine as he groans at the feeling of his cock disappearing inside of you, and if you weren't so focused on leaving crescent indents in his skin, you think you'd be on the same page as him. "you're so fucking soft, a-and tight, mommy."

with every whimper, every soft reverent murmur of your name, you tighten your thighs, clenching around his cock as he fucks you. there’s not a rhythm to his thrusts, nothing to focus on and meet his hips with, since he’s a man reborn. now that he’s found what his salvation feels like, he’s just chasing his high. he tries to lean back his head, as if wanting to watch his cock slide in and out of your pussy. gojo’s hips hit yours with every thrust, the sharp angle of his hip bone leaving a grounding sort of pain on your thigh.

there’s a moment when you swear you can see stars and all you can think is ‘this man was a virgin thirty minutes ago’ because he’s got you desperately close to your climax.

“s-sator-ru!”

his name on your lips as you come, tightening your pussy around his dick and clawing at his back as he throttles you off of the edge, seems to set him over the edge, too. his hips stutter, body shaking as he comes in you—so much for not rushing his first time.

he falls now, letting his arms stop holding up his weight as he lets himself relax fully on your body and heaving in your ear. it’s not exactly romantic, but you enjoy running your hands along his sides to watch him twitch back and forth. his cock is twitching inside of you, fully spending itself of its first orgasm inside another person and you’re satisfied at his soft moan when you tighten your pussy one last time.

“i tried..” he whispers, mouth turning towards your neck and tickling you with every word he forms, “holding out, but i had to come. felt too good not to.”

“s’okay,” you whisper back, afraid to break the spell of closeness by speaking at a normal volume, “you’ll last longer next time.”

there’s an unspoken ‘with someone else’ that you can’t bear to say, knowing that perhaps this is just a one and done thing. something you’d done on a whim and perhaps, he had, too. perhaps this was just the easiest way for him to get laid, and you were more than happy to provide.

“gimme a minute.” he kisses your neck sloppily—too gentle. “i’ll clean up in a minute. need to catch my breath.”

you roll your eyes. hooking your legs around his ass, you turn your head to press a kiss to his temple—too intimate. “take all the time you need.”

he hums, eyelashes fluttering shut as his breathing begins to even—too pretty. you’re worried this might be the last time you see him so peacefully, and instead of worrying about later—later tonight, later tomorrow—you let your eyes close, too.

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him; Savannaclaw

Summary: Yandere Savannaclaw boys x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

CW: yandere, dark content, you don't make it far in two out of three of these, murder (if you think about it for two seconds), no wait there's also actual murder, abuse of power, laugh with me, Ruggie 's cracked, emotional manipulation,

Heartslaybul Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC Staff

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

Every day that took you farther away from the Sunset Savannah was a blessing.  Getting out of the palace had been a miracle. Not alerting a single guard to your exit was a marvel.

Your time in Twisted Wonderland had taught you one thing. You were running out of miracles.

But you only needed one more. Tomorrow, you would leave the hotel with your son before the sun rose. You would slip into the trunk of a car that you'd traded the last of your jewels chains for. The driver would take you over the border, and then you could slip away where the second prince couldn't touch for fear of war.

You were too nervous to sleep. You held your son in your arms, and paced, whispering about the life you could have once you were free from Leona. The child had only been your son for three weeks, but you were going to free you both. Give you both a loving home.

You should sleep. You couldn't guarantee the next time you'd have a bed. And your eyes were so heavy, your mind foggy, but the anxiety pulsing through your veins made you nauseous whenever you tried to lay down.

Your vision was starting to get as foggy as your mind. The walls seemed to be wavering. Perhaps you should sit down.

The first grain of sand that hit you, you snapped completely awake. The walls weren't wavering; they were shimmering and collapsing.

You were lucky you were on the first floor. As fast as you could, you grabbed one of the tshirts you had stolen from Leona, and covered your son's head, pressed him close to your chest, then ran straight into the shimmering sand….

….and straight into a solid mass.

"Gotcha."

You felt a hand grab you by the hair as you heard the now completely sand hotel collapse behind you. You were yanked to the side of the hard mass, as he shouted.

"Tell my brother that I have them. Prepare for cleanup."

"Yes, your highness!" The nervous soldier standing beside Leona stuttered. Now that you weren't pressed straight into Leona, you saw he was surrounded by an entire troupe of soldiers. You watched the one he'd addressed rush off to the crowd on the other side of the pile of sand. You didn't recognize that one. He must have been promoted once the old one was fired.

If Leona didn't kill them, that is.

As you stared at the other crowd of soldiers, you recognized Farena's regal silhouette, feeling nauseous as he nodded at Leona across the way, issuing orders to soldiers who moved to get rid of all evidence of the former hotel.

Leona brought your attention back to him, taking the baby from your arms, and pulling his shirt off the little one's head. He babbled happily, and Leona infinitesimally softened. A face that was usually reserved for you.

"I can't believe you made me do all this work," he muttered, his tone becoming hard again. "You're gonna have to try real hard to make it up to me."

"Why is Farena here?" You whispered. You didn't think poorly of Farena. In fact, a part of you believed that, if you had had the chance, he would have helped you. But here he was, cleaning up Leona's dirty work.

Leona growled, and you snapped your mouth shut.

"The kingdom likes me better when you're with me. Of course he'd make sure I wouldn't lose you."

It was patronizing, like he was explaining something simple to a small child. A child he hated. 

But Leona didn't hate you. Maybe it would be better if he did.

He snatched your wrist, and began walking the three of you towards a car you hadn't noticed before. He opened the car door, and shoved you inside, getting in behind you. Then he handed you your son.

You hesitated to take him, and he grinned.

"I'd hold him now. It's going to be an awfully long time before you can even look at him again."

You knew Ruggie couldn't afford to come find you. Especially when you were hiding in the Queendom of Roses.

So you'd quietly raised your son there. You'd reunited with Ace, and rekindled the friendship you'd lost when Ruggie started to hoard you. You'd fallen in love. Gotten married. He'd adopted your son as his own.

You came home from work one day, and found him lying motionless at the bottom of the stairs.

"Ace!" You screamed, rolling him over and feeling for a pulse. Nothing. You looked for any marks, any sign of an intruder, but nothing. 

Your son. Where was he? He should be at home, he had a project that was due tomorrow. Where was he? 

You stood up and began to run up the stairs, but your body froze, before slowly turning around. And there he was.

"Leona already took our son home, shi hi hi."

Leona. You were so stupid. Of course he'd go to Leona. If anything, the fact it took so long to find you was a shock.

He shoved Ace's body with his foot, your foot moving in time to his, still being trapped in his spell. You used all your muscles to stay upright, nearly falling down the stairs with your lack of balance.

"I always hated him. Loud. Stupid. Couldn't mind his own business," he hummed, looking back up at you. "Did you leave me for him, or did he come later? Doesn't matter. Either way, you've really hurt my feelings."

He paused, his brow furrowing, actually looking angry for the first time. "We're going home, Y/N."

He turned and walked out the door, you following him, until he reached a black car. He turned, placed cuffs on you, then released you from the spell, pulling you into the car.

"I know you missed me, babe," he hummed, moving so he was sitting right next to you, resting his head on your shoulder. "And I would have come sooner, but Leona's an ass. Made me promise to calm down first so that I didn't accidentally hurt you or the boy."

He groaned. "He was probably right. I never thought I'd find a lover, or be a dad, and then both things were gone in a day. He didn't have to wait so long though. I calmed down in the first year."

You thought back to Ace's body at the bottom of the stairs. If that was calm….

"Where's my son?"

He laughed.

"He doesn't get to be your son. Not until you can be my partner again."

"That's not fair!"

"Life's not fair, baby! My entire life has been an unfair shit show. So now it's time to do something for me! It's my turn to get something I want."

His smile came back to his face, and he giggled. The years must not have been kind to his mind.

"Now, if you can prove that you can be a good little spouse, then I'll let you prove you can be a good parent. You also owe Leona. It's thanks to him I could come get you. How are you at secretary work?"

He continued to chat about all the things you had to do to make it up to him and Leona. You don't know when, but at some point silent tears started rolling down your face. 

And Ruggie laughed.

It wasn't until the day he'd brought home your son that you'd even realized what kind of a life you lived now. He never hurt you, physically. But the terror of the outside world he'd instilled in you…

And his family hadn't helped. They'd gifted jack the second floor of their home so that you could start your family, but still remain close to “the pack”. 

His parents stayed with you everyday, while he went out to work with his brothers and sisters. They'd tell you all the stories of how happy they were, how wolf beast men mated for life, how you would also be so so so happy. 

You would always just smile and nod. Even if you thought you were happy, you couldn't hold back the uneasy feeling every time they spoke of "forever".

And as you held your son, and realized you hadn't left the house in three years, you had lost all your connections, and you had a crippling fear fill your stomach whenever Jack wasn't home. And with that realization, came the secondary realization that you'd only begun to live this way, when you moved in with Jack after graduation.

It was the one day you knew everyone, including his parents, would be gone.

So why was it that you were now hiding in an alley, praying that your son wouldn't wake up, and alert a pack of hunting wolves to your presence? You were grateful they weren't real wolves, or they would have smelled you by now. As it was, Jack always mentioned you had such a unique scent that he could find you anywhere. You hoped that was just something he liked to say.

You hadn't seen any of them pass your alley in a while, so you took a shuddering breath, and peaked out into the street. 

It was quiet. But they were nearby. You weighed your options. If you ran, you might get to a safe house, or find a cab, before they could catch you. But they'd definitely hear your steps, and Jack was an incredible runner.

Or you could walk quietly, and hide in alleys here and there. But that would take time. Time where they could find you. Time where a friend of the family could spot you, and call someone.

If you could get somewhere with a pay phone, you could call Vil and explain the situation. You were told he grew up in the area. But if he sided with Jack, he'd lead you on the wrong path, or worse, set his fans to detain you while you waited for Jack to get there.

If you knew Ace's phone number, you knew he'd get you out of there. Yes, you'd get an I told you so speech, but he wouldn't think twice about saving you.

Too bad Jack took your phone and contact book for “your health”.

You heard a soft sigh from the boy in your arms, and looked down in momentary fear. Just sighing. Not awake. Good.

You looked back up, mentally trying to figure out where a phone was, and were met with a pair of glowing gold eyes, staring from across the street.

You ran.

You never really stood a chance, even if you could anywhere compare to Jack's unparalleled abilities, holding a child in your arms made it impossible to win.

You felt his arms wrap around your body and hold you tight.

“It's okay, I've got you. You're safe now.”

You must have really scared him. He didn't usually say so many words at a time.

You let out a sob, and he gently rocked you side to side for a moment, whispering how it was okay, you were safe, he's sorry he wasn't there to protect you.

At some point, he must have gotten his dad's attention, because Mr. Howl was gently prying your son from your arms, so that Jack could scoop you up and carry you home.

[its-daisukenojobito]

boyfriend: twilight is the fucking worst series ive ever been made to watch boyfriend, three days later: so like. do you have the books? specifically the one from edwards perspective?

[ashs-random-writing]

Bioluminescent Borrowings

~~~~~~

Virgil was just trying to get food so he could move house, but when you glow in the dark, things might not go as planned

~~~~~~

Virgil watched the human sleep for a few moments, before running towards the kitchen. The journey itself was half an hour long, seeing as he had to navigate through all the twists and turns of the tunnels. Immediately, he started trying to find food that would go unnoticed, and things that were easy to reach.

He needed a lot more than usual, since he was planning to move to one of the neighbouring houses. He had only lived in this house for two months, and in that time, he realised how dangerous it was to borrow from the bean of the house. The scientist.

Virgil shuddered, thinking about all the things the bean would do if they found out that Virgil existed. Borrowers were almost identical to humans, genetically, if you don’t take their size or markings into account. Virgil’s markings ran up his arms in swirls and stripes, and mimicked that pattern on his face, save for the ones under his eyes. Scientists would definitely want to study the tiny people, probably want to dissect them.

Virgil needed to move as soon as possible, and this seemed like a good time to prepare. It took about two hours to open cupboards, get enough food, and take it down and put it in his bag. At this point, it was really dark in the house, and Virgil was glad that he was able to glow. It wouldn’t be good if he had grabbed the wrong supplies, or such. He carefully rearranged the food packets, and other things the human owned to be as close to how they were when he first arrived in the kitchen. That itself took an hour and a half.

He climbed back down to where his large (to him) bag was, and prepared to leave, when the kitchen lights turned on, revealing a very tired-looking human. Virgil started backing away, eyes wide. He quickly looked at the entrance to the walls, all the way on the other side of the counter. Where the human was slowly approaching

-

Logan awoke to his alarm. 4 o’clock, just five hours after he had gone to sleep. He groaned, looking at his desk full of paperwork he had to get done that day. Getting out of bed, he decided that a cup of coffee could possibly wake him up, though when he reached the kitchen, he saw a glowing purple something going across his counter.

He flipped the light switch hesitantly, almost ready to chalk up the sight to tiredness or a dream. A tiny person was stood on his counter, markings in the places that were glowing. It started backing away, and Logan got closer, only just realising that it was holding something. He looked at the object in question, realising that it was a tiny bag.

Logan slowly reached for a jar. He could deal with the tiny creature some time after his coffee, preferably after 6am. He started brewing his coffee, after trapping the tiny thing, and occasionally looking at the small creature, and trying to study its behavior.

Maybe if he could get enough information on this creature, he wouldn’t have to do his paperwork.. The creature's eyes never left him, and its breathing seemed to be occurring too quickly to be normal.

It was too early for this, he concluded, sipping his coffee. He did wonder what was in the bag, however. He could probably guess, seeing as it was in the kitchen and one of the cupboards was slightly open. He looked at the small humanoid and sighed, feeling the urge to replace his coffee with wine, though it was yet to be 5 am.

Far too early to be making new scientific discoveries, especially ones this strange. He wondered what its diet consisted of, if it was a scavenger or a hunter, a predator or prey. Based on the way it was trying and failing to get away from him, chances are that it was prey to most animals, which made sense considering its size and stature.

He was rather curious about the origins of such a creature, and the markings. The markings seemed to be an evolutionary product, probably developed with this species being most likely nocturnal.

Although, that let more questions arise. Why was a species that seemed so similar to humans nocturnal?

He left the creature in the jar as he went to find a more suitable place for it, doubting that being trapped under a jar was comfortable.

-

Virgil watched the human, just waiting for the inevitable. They hadn’t started interrogating him yet, which was a comfort, but how long would that last? The human left the room, and Virgil immediately started pushing the jar towards the edge of the counter, only stopping when he had enough room to climb out.

He started scaling down the counter with some difficultly, before the human re-entered the room, carrying a cage. Virgil tried to climb faster, forcing himself to think about the fact that his exit was right below him, and not about the human that was getting closer and going to trap him forever

A hand wrapped around him mid-climb, and he squirmed. He was not going in that cage, and he would do almost anything to make sure he wasn’t going to be captured. The grip tightened and Virgil froze, not willing to die. He was placed into the cage, as the human looked through his bag.

He gulped, thinking that the human would ‘punish’ him for stealing, like all of the humans he had heard about in stories passed down from generation to generation. The human furrowed their brows

“This isn’t healthy. You need more fruit and things in your diet,” The human looked thoughtful for a singular moment “although, I guess some of the blame befalls me, in this instance, seeing as I haven’t made fruit very accessible to you” He went to the other side of the room, to the fridge

Virgil was given a strawberry, as the human tried to speak to him. The borrower made sure not to react to anything the human said and made sure the human couldn’t realize that he was a sentient being. He wouldn’t let this scientist interrogate him for secrets of Borrowers. He stared up at the human with a carefully controlled expression

~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @a-chilly-pepper