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teacupfulofstarshine · 3 years

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LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP CHAPTER 10

PLEASE HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS!!! this chapter features Evil Scientist Lady and her Fucked Up WorldView a LOT, and there are also some Major Plot Events that involve Violence. i will put a summary in the end notes if you decide at any point that this particular chapter is too much - that's super valid! i will also mention here that no main characters are going to die in this story and no one dies in this chapter either.

huge huge thanks to @flamingfawkes for beta’ing!

CW: extreme disregard for human life, mentioned human and animal cruelty, toxic workplace environment, violence (both imagined and actual, mildly graphic), gun mention, minor blood, death threats, extremely unethical character, unethical science, stalking

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // chapter 8 // chapter 9 // read it on ao3!

“This is the same result we’ve gotten the last twenty times -”

“I don’t care, Steven, run it again!”

Steven sighs, punching at the keyboard to run the statistical analysis sequence again. “This is ridiculous! I’ve run this sequence so many times it feels like my eyes are going to bleed. Why can’t we just turn in the results we have and -”

“Because she’ll behead us,” James snaps, “and then she’ll destroy our reputations and our families and they’ll get no severance. I have three young children at home, Steven, I need this money.” Steven softens a little, fingers running smoothly over the keys as he combs the data again. Next to him, James has a computer screen full of frame-by-frame stills of what little data they recovered from the probe before it was destroyed; Penny across the room is surrounded by ancient texts a mile high and at least three laptops.

“Why is she so interested in this, anyway?”

“It’s beyond me. Since when do we question the whims of what we’re told to do?”

Steven squints at the screen, pushing his chair back and rubbing at his eyes. “If I have to stare at these numbers for one more second, my brain is going to explode. I feel like my eyeballs are going to melt out of my skull. I wanna scream.”

James pulls up another image, staring at the blurry image of the merman before him. Steven pushes away from his own screen and squints at James’s. The merman in the photo looks young, not much older than his kid brother, but they don’t know anything about the lifespan of these creatures. He looks confused, squinting at the camera. As James flicks through the stills, the merman transitions from confused to angry to enraged, and then he attacks.

“He’s not happy about the camera.”

“Would you be happy about someone spying on you and your family?” James says, switching to the next still.

“I wouldn’t be happy if I thought someone was doing anything we do in this lab to me or my family.” James elbows Steven, but luckily no one else seems to have heard.

“This lab isn’t the most ethical place I’ve ever worked, but it pays the bills,” James mutters. “And we’re not even in the experimentation lab. We just do data analysis. We’re removed from the situation.”

Are we? Steven wonders. He sees James reach out and touch the framed picture of his daughters, and keeps his mouth shut. He turns back to his computer, watching the little spinning color wheel of his mouse as the program calculates the same numbers again and again. The results come up identical to the previous ones, and Steven clicks “Run Program” again wordlessly.

They work in silence for a while, the three of them, broken only by James’s muttering and the occasional thud of one of Penny’s books and the clicks of keyboards and mice. If they weren’t so reliant on technology, Steven thinks, there would be an enormous corkboard spanning three of the four walls, covered in pushpins and handwriting and red string connecting images. He debates actually building one, if only to increase the levity in the room, but decides against it.

He’s seen people punished or fired or who-knows-what-else for far less, after all.

Instead, after his program tells him for the twenty-third time that his results are the same (and didn’t someone say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?), Steven scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms and opens the data entry window. Maybe the problem with the results has to do with the entry of the data; did he input something wrong? It’s possible . . .

Here he goes again, he supposes. He stands up, stretches, and leans back to crack some vertebrae. “I’m gonna grab a coffee, take a short screen break, and go back to the beginning. Maybe there’s something in the input that I missed. You want anything?”

James groans, thunking his head against the desk. “I want something with enough caffeine to kill three elephants, please.” Steven nods, looking over at Penny. She shakes her head, and he heads for the shitty coffee machine a few doors down.

Several floors below, a young woman pulls her lab goggles up to rest on top of her head with her perfectly-pinned protocol-compliant bun. “The latest round of tests is completely done, ma’am. I think you’ll find the efficacy . . . striking.”

She takes the clipboard, glossy perfectly-painted nails pinching the sheets of thin paper and flicking between them. “I’m afraid I don’t do so well with the scientific side of things - Kathleen, was it? Explain this to me, would you?”

“Certainly, ma’am. As you know, the kill time for the most effective neurotoxin currently available, tetrodotoxin, varies from thirty minutes to four hours. Average time for symptoms to manifest is seventeen minutes, and from there the symptoms progress through tingling of the lips and tongue, headache, vomiting, muscle weakness, ataxia, et cetera. Death occurs as a result of respiratory or heart failure, and the poison is nearly undetectable if you do not specifically test for it.”

“The untraceability is a plus, but that is far too wide a range of times, and too slow a time even at its fastest.”

“Of course, ma’am, but as far as naturally-occurring marine poisons go - actually, as far as naturally-occurring poisons go, full stop - it is the most effective. Until now, that is.”

“Oh? What are your findings?”

“Which trials would you like to start with, ma’am?”

“The human trials, Kathleen. The only ones that matter. I hardly intend to go around killing mice and hoping that no one traces their deaths to a novel neurotoxin.” She laughs airily, and Kathleen nods along.

“Certainly, ma’am. The most recent data points indicate an average efficacy time of thirteen minutes for our compound neurotoxin, with a full range between nine and seventeen minutes passing before subject death. Subjects began to show symptoms around five minutes, give or take twenty-five seconds.”

“And those symptoms were?”

Kathleen flips through the document. “Seizures, vital organ failure, blindness, painful muscle spasms, suffocation from the inside out.”

She hums, tapping a manicured finger against the report. “Well, Kathleen, that is certainly impressive, especially for a preliminary human subject trial. These results . . . I must say, they are not nearly as disappointing as I anticipated when I came down here.”

“Ma’am?”

“How long have you worked for this company, Kathleen?”

“Almost five years, ma’am, but I’ve always been an assistant. This is my first time as lead researcher and biochemist on a project, ever since you . . . laid off the previous lead researcher.”

“Kathleen, let me be frank. These results are not what I hoped for. The efficacy time and symptom onset times are both far too long for my liking, and the range of efficacy time is too broad. By all accounts, I should consider this a failure.” Kathleen swallows, but remains poised. “However, you’ve managed to shave off a considerable amount of time from the tetrodotoxin readings. The range of symptom onset time is an acceptable breadth, and your results are far beyond anything your predecessor ever accomplished for me. This is truly impressive, all things considered.”

“Thank you, ma’am. How should I proceed?”

“I want the efficacy doubled - tripled - I want it upped by anywhere between four and five hundred percent. I want the pain increased, too. Feel free to increase your requests for test subjects, but get me the results I want. You said the original tetrodotoxin was untraceable?”

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

“Can you keep that feature intact?”

“As of right now, it is intact, ma’am. I will endeavor to keep it so in future experiments.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Welcome to your new position as head of this research division. Don’t let me down.” She holds out a slender hand, and Kathleen takes it, trying not to seem too eager.

“I won’t, ma’am.”

“How soon can you start this experiment up again?”

“The cleaners should be finished by tomorrow morning, ma’am, and I can tweak chemical formulas until then.”

“Excellent.” Her watch beeps, and she lifts it, pursing her bright lips as she examines the message she’s just received. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another matter to attend to. Someone will drop off your master access key for Lab Three within the hour.”

She steps into the elevator and lifts her watch up to her face, swiping through the messages from her secretary. One finger reaches out to press the button for the digital analysis labs floor, and the other taps away at her watch.

When she steps off the elevator, her secretary is waiting. “Ma’am.”

“What do they have for me?”

“Unclear. They said it was something they wanted to report directly to you and you alone, but it seems to be something big.”

“Hopefully it’s a big step in the right direction, or they’ll be taking a big step out of a job.” She relishes in the way the employees she passes all unfailingly flinch and then snap to perfect attention when they hear the sharp echo of her heels against the floor. She lifts her head and walks faster, striking the tiles with her heels like a gavel, sharp and precise against a judge’s desk.

The computer labs are disorganized when she enters, but there is a string of promising-looking numbers on the main display monitor. There is a woman surrounded by books and a man pulling up photos on his computer, and there is a third man standing in front of her like a toy soldier. She focuses on that one.

“I hear you have news for me? Make it swift, and make it good.”

He swallows, hard, and her eyes idly trace the line of his throat. If he disappoints her, perhaps she will drive her heel through it, to make an example of him. That would be far too messy; perhaps his dominant hand will do.

“I have narrowed down the location of the missing net, ma’am. I believe it to have washed up somewhere around these general GPS coordinates.” He fiddles with a remote in his hand, and the image on the screen changes. It shows an aerial satellite view of a secluded strip of beach, framed by rocky cliffs with larger rocks studded out into the open water. “It should have washed up somewhere in this one-point-three-seven-mile strip of beach. The whole area is property of one Doctor Thomas Sanders.”

She snarls. “That man. He won’t let us on that beach willingly until hell freezes over.”

The other man, the one scanning through photo stills and video footage, jumps up, knocking his chair backwards. “I found something!”

She turns towards him, and his excitement freezes and sputters into something much more controlled and terrified. “Show me.” He clicks something and pulls up video footage from one of their surveillance drones, zooming in on a particular patch of ocean along the stretch of Sanders’ beach. Her eyes widen when she sees what he’d noticed - a hump of red-and-white tail arcing above the waves before a pattern of ripples streaks off towards the cliff. He pauses the footage, rewinds it, uses a laser pointer to show an opening concealed in the cliff face.

“There’s some kind of grotto in there, hidden by the cliff. It’s on Sanders’ property, he has to know it’s there. And it looks like the merman from the destroyed drone knows it’s there too. Which means -”

“That must be where he’s keeping them.” Something burns in her chest, brilliant and terrifying and all-encapsulating, like wildfire. “We’ve found them, at long last.”

“What would you have me do?” her secretary asks. “I can arrange for a recovery squad at your earliest possible convenience, ma’am.”

“Assemble the squad, but do not have them move out. They will wait for my orders. When they go, you are to go with them.” Her secretary nods, once, sharp and sure. “Dispatch a crew to Lab One and clear it out. I want it prepped for containment, vivisection, chemical tests - the works. Get at least three tanks set up and one strap-down human table.”

“A human table, ma’am?”

“Yes. We have to deal with Sanders once and for all to ensure that he does not ruin any future experiments.”

“Will we be taking him as well?”

She hums thoughtfully. “No. Pull up the file we have on his known associate?”

A few swift clicks and flicks and a photo appears on the large screen: a young man with brown-and-purple hair, sleeves rolled up, carefully lowering a perfectly viable specimen into the ocean and letting it go, like some kind of fool. “His doctoral student, ma’am. The longest one he’s ever kept - this one has been with him a few years.”

“Excellent. When you raid the lab, take him.”

“Should we kill Sanders?”

“No. Rough him up a little, but leave him alive. Taking his protégé and leaving him alone, helpless to rescue him, will be the highest form of torture for such an insufferable person. The agony will eat him alive until his dying day.”

Her secretary nods, taking the notes down dutifully. The other employees look vaguely horrified, but she pays them no mind. No sacrifice is too great to be made in the name of progress, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a weakling who will never get anywhere in life.

She refuses to be one of those weaklings.

*~*~*~*~*

Logan wakes up confused.

He’s warm, warmer than he thinks he’s ever been in his whole life. When he stirs, he moves farther than he meant to - he must not be underwater. That’s enough to send a jolt of concern through his sleep-addled brain. Why isn’t he underwater? Why was he sleeping if he was above the surface? There’s no way his dad is here, and Roman hates surfacing, where are they? Where is he? But he’s so comfortable . . .

Someone shifts beside him, an arm draping across his waist, and Logan forces his eyes open. He shifts his lower half, confused when two things move instead of one, and there are layers upon layers of thin, flat, soft things wrapping around him. What is happening?

Slowly, slowly, his mind clears, and he remembers the events of last night. He grew legs - he was a human, once, before he was mer - he couldn’t sleep underwater with Dad and Roman - Virgil was teaching him to walk - Virgil put “clothes” on him - Virgil was embarrassed that he didn’t have those “clothes” on him - Virgil took him out of the lab to sleep - Virgil agreed to cuddle him since his pod couldn’t -

Logan feels the strange burning in his face again as he shifts. He can’t see well in this new human form, but when things are close enough to his face they’re relatively clear. And Virgil, still sleeping, is close enough that Logan can smell him - he smells like salt water mixed with something sharp and something sweet and something else that Logan can’t quite identify but finds addicting nonetheless. Sunlight streams in and pools around Virgil’s face, illuminating the tangled mess of hair spread around him and flopping into his face, the small puddle of water leaking out from his open mouth onto the soft thing he’s resting his head on, the way his chest moves slowly with every breath. His arm is wrapped around Logan, pulling him close. Logan thinks he might explode if he focuses on this any more, so he rolls from his side to his back as carefully as he can, not wanting to wake Virgil. Virgil tightens his arm around Logan and mutters something indecipherable in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake.

Rather than focusing on his very confusing feelings for the very pretty man next to him, Logan focuses on what he can see of the room around him. He makes a list in his mind of things that he plans to ask Virgil about later today, including:

1: There are many draws attached to the small, smooth cliffs surrounding them. How do they stay there?

2: There are lots of “clothes” scattered all around the floor, and there were several on the bed, too. Is that normal for humans?

3: Last night, Virgil did something that made the room light up with trapped sunlight! How did he do that?

4: How did Virgil get ice to stay in those big frozen sheets in such a warm place to let the sunlight in?

5: How did Virgil make ice into that weird shape that he filled with water and drank last night?

6: How did Virgil get the water to come into this place?

7: Do all humans have a specific area set aside for sleeping? Logan and his pod usually just sleep wherever they can, but Virgil seems to have this soft slab set aside with all of these soft things to be comfortable and sleep in every night. Is this a Human Thing or strictly a Virgil Thing?

Logan looks out through the sheet of ice that protects Virgil’s area from the outside and gasps. He can’t see well, but there’s a glittering expanse of blue that shifts and moves and oh, is that the ocean?

He’s spent his whole life (well, his whole remembered life, anyways) in the ocean, and he’s seen some truly wondrous things. He travels around the world with his pod, he knows the ocean is big, but seeing it spread out like this is . . . awe-inspiring. Logan has never seen the ocean like this, and now that he has he doesn’t think he can ever not see it like this again. It’s like a perfect sheet of sea-glass, rippling and unbroken but dynamic in a way that he never really gets a sense of when he’s beneath it.

He knows that there are waves, of course. There are smaller swells out on the open ocean, and larger ones when the Second Goddess dips her fingers down from the Upper Ocean and swirls the storms to a thundering burst. There are waves along the shoreline, ones that he frolics in with Roman and batter him against the shoreline. There are waves created when he or his pod members surface. But watching the movement of the ocean from up here is . . .

Even with his imperfect vision, he is completely at a loss for words as he stares at the ocean.

Eventually, Virgil stirs next to him, and Logan turns away from the ocean to stare at him. Virgil is close to him, arms wrapped tightly around him, face pressed against him. Logan’s eyesight is not great, but Virgil is close enough that he can pick out little details of his face. There are brown face scales scattered all over him, but they seem to cluster on his nose and his cheeks. Logan has wanted to touch them for a substantial amount of time, and he can’t stop himself from gently settling the tips of his fingers over Virgil’s cheek.

His face doesn’t feel like Logan was expecting. The scales don’t give texture to his face the way that Logan’s do; the skin is smooth and flat. There are little bumps all over, but the brown scales aren’t raised off the skin like Logan expected. He lets his fingers trail along Virgil’s face. His bone structure seems to be exceedingly similar to Logan’s, at least in regards to his head. Logan’s finger rests gently on the curve of bone under Virgil’s eye, and Virgil exhales warm breath onto his palm.

Logan wonders what it would be like to have this for longer than just his recovery period. He wonders what it would be like to wake up next to Virgil all the time, to get to run his hands over Virgil’s face and arms and chest and examine the differences between their anatomy. He wonders what it would be like to learn to walk without falling over, and he feels a sharp, unexpected twinge in his chest as he realizes that getting better at walking means no more closeness to Virgil.

His chest feels strange, like there’s a school of small fish swarming around and tickling his insides and making him feel all foamy, like the froth churned up by a windswept sea. He feels like he does when he’s underwater - free, weightless, mobile, limited by nothing except his own imagination. He feels unstoppable.

Virgil makes a sudden, sharp inhale, blinking his eyes open slowly. Logan thinks that, perhaps, he might not appreciate being studied unknowingly - he hadn’t appreciated Virgil doing it, before he understood what was happening, when all he knew was the loss of his pod aching like a scraped-out seashell. As Virgil wakes up, Logan shifts, turning his gaze to the rest of the room.

Virgil makes a sleepy grumbling noise, opening one eye. Logan chances another quick glance at him, and when his eye slides open Logan is struck by its beauty. He doesn’t get much of a chance to admire it, however, before Virgil is jolting backwards like Logan’s struck him with lightning. Logan is confused, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder. “Virgil?”

“Wassat?! Wait . . . L’gan?”

“It is me,” Logan says softly. “Are - are you upset with me?”

Virgil yawns, jaw dropping to his chest, revealing a flash of teeth and a soft pink tongue. (Logan wants to lick it. Why does Logan want to lick it? Why is Logan thinking about Virgil’s tongue licking his tongue - why is Logan thinking about Virgil - what in the Seven Oceans is happening to him.) “Wh - no, no, ‘m okay, I just - woke up, forgot I had you with me, got confused about another person in my bed.” Before Logan can start to feel bad, Virgil adds, “S’okay if it’s you, though,” and the foamy, floaty feeling is back.

“Did you sleep well?”

Virgil laughs, low and rumbling, and Logan can feel it in his fingers where he touches Virgil’s skin. “I never sleep well.” He sits up, and the fabric of his pajamas shifts to let Logan see stretches of soft, supple skin that he usually doesn’t. Logan wants to touch it. He very determinedly keeps his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Gotta admit, though, last night was . . . better than usual.”

This appears to be the point where Virgil first notices their position - pressed together, arm slung over Logan, basically cuddling the way that Logan normally would with his pod. (No tangle with his pod has ever felt this . . . electric, this charged, this important to Logan before.) His face flares a brilliant red, and he shifts like he wants to move away but -

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Logan blurts out. Virgil blinks at him a little, and maybe he was a little overly enthusiastic, but - “I sleep in a tangle with Dad and Roman all the time. I have extreme difficulty sleeping without contact with someone else. It . . . helped me greatly.”

“Oh,” Virgil says, face turning redder still, smiling shyly. “That - makes me feel better. Thanks, Lo.”

Logan smiles, and Virgil smiles too, reaching up to gently move a piece of hair away from his face. Logan thinks that, as far as deaths go, his chest exploding (which seems to be getting more and more likely every fifteen seconds he spends in Virgil’s presence, only accelerated by all this skin-on-skin contact they’re having right now) seems to be the most pleasurable.

Virgil opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was is interrupted by a Ping! noise from across the room. “What is that?” Logan asks. Virgil, sadly, untangles himself from Logan and the blankets, sliding out of bed and heading over to one of the other structures in the room (what did he call it last night? Dex?) and picking up a flat glowing rectangle.

“Is everything alright?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, I - Thomas sent me a text, it’s a little weird.”

“What is a text?”

“It’s a kind of human messaging system, it allows us to communicate when we’re far away from each other.”

“Like a pod call?” “Kind of? I’ll explain more later, I promise, I just - I gotta go down to the lab real quick.”

“I’ll come with -”

“No!” Virgil snaps. Logan flinches, and Virgil softens, crossing the room and gently touching his shoulder. “Hey, no, Logan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just - this message, there’s something off. I think something might be wrong, and I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger. Just - wait here, okay? Wait in my room, where it’s safe. It’s probably nothing, he’s probably fine, but on the off chance that he’s not, I want you to stay hidden safely up here.”

Logan isn’t sure why this makes his face heat up slightly, but it does. “Okay. I accept your apology, and I . . . trust you.”

Virgil smiles, soft and heartwarming, and Logan is beginning to give more credence to his “chest explosion is fine, actually” theory. “Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back. I promise.”

He leaves, shutting the door firmly behind him, and the foamy feeling in Logan’s chest dissipates a little. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something . . . off. If Logan didn’t know better, he’d think that he was sensing a predator approaching.

But that can’t be right, he isn’t underwater. His danger senses are likely just overreacting to his disappointment at Virgil’s absence.

. . . Right?

*~*~*~*~*

Thomas is beginning to regret letting Roman and Patton (specifically, Roman) out of the large tank before finishing his first coffee of the morning.

“I want some!” Roman complains.

“Do you even know what it is?” Thomas says. Roman pouts sulkily at him.

“. . . No,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Thomas gives him the deadpan, no-nonsense, I-am-your-direct-superior-take-the-damn-samples-Virgil stare that he has perfected over the past few years. Roman wilts a little more, and Thomas feels slightly bad.

“It’s called coffee,” he says. “It’s a hot drink that lots of people have in the morning. Some people drink it plain, and some people add things to it to change the way it tastes. It helps me wake up more and get focused to start my day, and sometimes I drink it late at night to help keep me awake.”

Roman looks less like a kicked puppy and more like Logan, eyes wide and curious. “I want some!”

Thomas, taking a sip of his own two-seconds-of-cream-five-cubes-of-sugar coffee, nearly spits it out. He looks at Roman, eyes the very sharp, very detachable, very toxic spines covering his body, and says, “No.”

Roman’s demeanor changes entirely, switching from “curious toddler” to “toddler about to throw a temper tantrum” in a heartbeat. “Why not?!”

“Because when people drink coffee without being used to it, sometimes it makes them a little crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!”

“Do I need to recount to you how many times you’ve threatened me and my assistant since we met you?” Thomas says, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not giving you coffee until I know I can trust you not to stab me with your poisonous spines that cover your entire body and can be fired at people.”

Roman pouts more, dropping under the water and letting out a gratingly harmonious string of mer that Thomas is pretty sure translates to Roman bitching about the coffee situation to his dad. Based on the pattern of Patton’s response, he’s pretty sure Patton is laughing at Roman.

More sulky chalkboard-violin music, and then Roman resurfaces grumpily. “Dad agrees with you and says no consuming strange human foods.”

“Did he laugh at you?”

Roman squints suspiciously at him. “You can’t speak our language.”

“Yeah, but I know what it sounds like when a dad laughs at his kid.” Roman, continuing to pout, sinks back into the tank, presumably to sulk some more. Thomas takes another very long sip of coffee that is definitely too hot for his mouth and turns back to his desk.

Virgil should definitely be awake and in the lab at this point. The samples he’s supposed to be analyzing are sitting in their little tubes, each neatly labelled with locations and dates and times and what, specifically, Virgil is supposed to be looking for. Thomas considers going upstairs and waking up Virgil, who’s almost never been late for work in this way, but he decides against it. Virgil is upstairs with Logan, and Thomas knows that there’s something building between them. He’s not sure how advisable that something is, but he trusts Virgil to make his own decisions.

Besides, he could probably use some practice. His water sample analysis skills are pretty rusty, he’s had Virgil doing them for years. “Virgil, you owe me big time for what I’m doing for you.” He carefully shifts the samples over to his own desk, slides his earbuds in, picks up a pipette, and gets to work analyzing the bacterial and algal concentrations for any abnormalities.

Thomas accomplishes about forty-five minutes’ worth of work before Roman interrupts him by flicking water at him and soaking the back of his neck. “Hey!”

“I tried your name, but your little ear bug things were keeping you from hearing me,” Roman says smugly. Thomas, not for the first time, considers retreating to the closet and throwing beakers until he feels better.

“Can I help you?”

“Dad wants to go hunting and bring back breakfast, but we can’t leave without you.”

“Are you not going hunting?”

“I’m going to stay here and observe you,” Roman says.

Thomas blinks. “Do I . . . need observing?”

“How do I know you won’t sell us out to your little human friends the second you get a chance? If I’m here, I can stop you. Plus, what if you do something to Logan while we’re not here to protect him? No, no, I’m staying right where I am and you can’t make me leave.” His spines ripple; Thomas steps closer to a whiteboard in case he needs to duck.

“I’m not going to do that, and I don’t want you to stab me.”

“Still! I’m staying here! Also, Dad’s bigger than me, and he’s a better hunter cause he’s faster and he’s been hunting longer.

“Does he need something to help him carry all those fish?” Thomas asks. Roman opens his mouth like he’s going to say something snarky, pauses, and stops.

“I . . . usually we just eat what we catch when we catch it. We make a pile of prey and take turns guarding it while the other two hunt. Then we make a sacrifice to the Seven Mother Goddesses and eat what’s left.”

After some debate, Thomas is able to fashion a sling of sorts from some waterproof tarps and leftover anchor rope to tie around Patton’s body. “You can put the fish in this pouch and carry them back here. Will you be able to navigate your way back to the grotto?”

“He will,” Roman says. “Dad knows more about the ocean than any human possibly could.” Another discordant song from the tank, chastising, and Roman huffs. “Dad wants me to reassure you that he’ll be fine.”

Patton settles into the mobile tank easily, and Thomas gets him down to the grotto leading towards the sea. “When you come back, let out one of your pod calls and Virgil or I will come and collect you and your catch. Take as much time as you need, okay?”

Patton reaches up and gently pats Thomas’s arm with one large, damp hand, and Thomas takes that to mean an agreement. “Alright, off you go.” There’s a whoosh and a rush of water as it flows from the tank into the grotto in a clean arc, carrying Patton with it. Thomas waits for a moment, letting Patton disappear into the open ocean, before returning to the laboratory.

Roman, for the most part, ignores Thomas. He asks the occasional question, which Thomas tries to answer in a way that he’ll understand, and leans over the edge of his touch tank, eyes guarded. Every time Thomas sneaks a glance, when he thinks Roman isn’t looking, his expression is wide-eyed and wondrous, like Logan’s usually are, but the moment he realizes Thomas is watching him his entire face closes up like a clamshell.

Thomas wonders what it’ll take to get Roman to trust him, trust Virgil, trust any human. Granted, he doesn’t know Roman’s history with humans, but he and Patton are both fairly scarred, and Thomas might not know the whole story but he’d bet a not-insignificant amount of his monthly income that the giant starburst scar taking up the majority of Patton’s chest isn’t the result of a clash with a marine creature.

He works quietly, fielding the occasional question, keeping one ear on the grotto tunnel for Patton’s return. He’s not sure how long he expected Patton to be gone, but he hears movement in the grotto tunnel far sooner than he’d expected.

“Thomas, what’s -”

“Shhhh,” Thomas says. He stands up, pushing away from his desk, but before he can say anything else, there’s a flood of movement coming from the tunnel. Bodies pour into the lab, swift and strong and carrying weapons that they immediately train on Thomas and Roman.

“What is this?” Roman snaps, bristling. He sounds betrayed, like he thinks Thomas is behind this. Thomas picks up a heavy glass beaker, fully prepared to shatter it upside someone’s skull if necessary, but something heavy and hard strikes the back of his skull and he feels his knees crumple. Roman cries out, and Thomas struggles to push himself up. A hand fists itself in his hair and yanks him upright, sharply. Thomas exhales sharply through his teeth, but before he can start struggling, something cool and round rests against the back of his neck, shutting him up and shutting his brain down.

Roman is puffed up like a hedgehog, apparently fully prepared to defend Thomas despite his strong and inherent mistrust. Before he can begin to attack, Thomas hears the click-click-click of shoes on the hard stone floor. Whoever’s holding his head yanks him back again, and he is forced to watch as a woman walks into his laboratory.

(It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke - a sick, horrible, twisted joke.)

She has black heels, black tights, a black pencil skirt, a black blazer, and a blood-red blouse. Her hair is scraped back into a tight bun, pulled so taut it must hurt, and is held in place with a pitch black stick. She carries a - clipboard? tablet? Unclear - held against her chest, and there’s a sleek silver weapon in her right hand.

“The one from the video?” she asks.

“Affirmative, ma’am,” says the person holding Thomas’s head. The woman nods, lifting her weapon, and fires at Roman. Thomas tries to scream a warning, earning himself another painful yank from his captor, but the projectile lodges itself in Roman’s shoulder anyway.

It isn’t a bullet, but something that looks like a small syringe. Roman swats it out of his shoulder, swaying a little, but it doesn’t stop him from swiping at the - mercenary, they must be - who tries to grab him with his elbow spines. The woman frowns, lifts the weapon - some kind of tranquilizer gun? - and fires again.

Roman screams, inhuman and animal, and tears the newest dart from his arm, throwing himself out of his tank and clinging to the nearest mercenary. His teeth tear into the man’s shoulder, spines piercing through his camouflage clothing and flooding him with neurotoxin. The man collapses against the concrete, alive but unconscious, and Roman snarls at the next man as though daring him to approach. He sways, weakened but awake, and bares his teeth.

“Of course,” the woman says, tapping something on her tablet. “His naturally produced neurotoxin must be providing him with some level of natural resistance. Unexpected, but not a limitation.”

It takes three more tranquilizer darts before Roman finally slumps down into his tank, unconscious. The mercenaries look hesitant to approach him, but the woman reaches for her tablet and they scramble to action at once.

“No - no, stop, let him go, he’s not an animal for you to cart off to your lab -” Thomas starts. The man holding him knees him sharply in the back and he cries out, coughing.

They wrap Roman in thick leather bands, roughly shoving his spines flat and binding them against his skin so that he can’t attack them again. The woman nods, once, short and sharp, and they drag Roman away, letting his head bang mercilessly on the ground. Thomas catches a glimpse of a logo - emblazoned on the back of the jackets, on the back of the woman’s tablet, on the side of her tranquilizer gun - and commits it to memory. He’s going to need it, if he gets out of here alive.

“- your phone,” the woman says, and oh, when did she get in front of him.

“My what?”

His mouth runs dry as she places the tranquilizer gun under his chin, barrel pressing against his throat, and tips his chin up. “I said, give me your phone.”

Thomas blinks. “My - the desk. It’s on the desk.”

She sets her tablet down, picks up his phone, and shoves it in his face. “Open it.”

“I - wh -”

“Unlock your phone, Dr. Sanders. Must I repeat myself a third time?” She rolls her eyes. “Doctorates are wasted on people like you.”

Thomas numbly punches in his passcode, and she swipes through to his messages app, frowning before turning the screen towards his face to reveal a message thread with Virgil. “Is this your assistant?”

Thomas glares at her, he’s not going to give her what she wants, he’s not going to just give her Virgil but then the - gun, it must be a gun, what else would they be holding against his neck like this - pushes into him harder, and it’s probably bruising, and he can’t get himself killed here because then he definitely won’t be able to take care of Virgil and -

“Yes,” Thomas says, hating himself for giving in so easily. “What do you -”

She turns away from him, nails clicking against his phone screen as she sends a text message - to Virgil, presumably, and that makes his heart sink like a stone - before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it to shatter it. “I have a message for you.”

“A - what?”

“Did they really hit you that hard, or were you this stupid before we came here?” she says coldly, picking up the tablet again and tapping at the screen. Thomas groans as the man yanks him to his feet, shoving him onto his chair and pulling a roll of duct tape out of one of his multiple pants pockets. He tapes Thomas’s wrists and ankles to the chair, keeping his weapon trained on Thomas’s temple at all times, before pressing it roughly against his head and gripping his hair again.

The woman sets the tablet on his lab table, and the screen flickers to life, and then there’s a woman in front of a dark black backdrop, smiling at him like a cat who’s caught a canary. “Thomas Sanders. How long I’ve waited for this day.”

Thomas recognizes her. He knows he recognizes her. She used to be his classmate, before . . .

His head hurts, so badly that he can barely keep his eyes open, and the memory slips away. “You . . . why are you doing this?”

“Why? Because I am a real scientist, unlike you. You refuse to do what is necessary, what must be done for the progression of the species. The sacrifice of some worthless animals is necessary for humanity to reach its zenith. You would really hinder the entire human race for the preservation of lower life forms?”

“Wh - I -”

“You think that ‘preserving the ecosystem’ and ‘keeping animals alive’ makes you a good scientist, but it makes you weak. You are weak, Thomas Sanders, and if the world was left in the hands of people like you, the human race as we know it would die out in a few centuries. Fortunately, there are people like me, who understand what must be done.”

“Caring about other people and things - it doesn’t - it doesn’t make you weak,” Thomas says, chest heaving, and the woman just laughs.

“One of many logical fallacies to which you subscribe, Thomas. They really gave you a doctorate? Of course caring makes you weak. All emotions make you weak. They corrupt your data and make your experiments worthless. You must be ruthless. You must be willing to do whatever it takes to pursue your goals and achieve the height of success. But no.” She rolls her eyes, face hardening, twirling a pen in her fingers. “You insist on ethics and principles and letting emotions cloud your judgement, and that makes you a failure as a scientist. It makes you weak. Your attachments will be your downfall.”

Thomas’s eyes slide shut, head pounding, and the man behind him yanks at his hair so sharply that he knows some has been ripped out. He forces his eyes open in time to see a smile slide across the woman’s face like a knife, teeth gleaming white as sun-bleached bone.

“You won’t - get away with this,” Thomas manages. He grinds his teeth together and curls his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself awake. “If you leave me alive -” Thomas, stop talking, why are you reminding her that she has the option to fucking kill you “- I will not rest until I find you. I’ll - you can’t -”

“You’ll what, Thomas? If you call the police, you’ll expose those creatures you’re so intent on protecting to the world. Are you really willing to take that chance?” Before Thomas can even begin formulating a response, she steamrolls him. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you were, I’m going to take some . . . insurance, shall we say.”

“Why not just kill me?” Thomas spits. Excellent idea, Doc, poke the murderous lady with a stick like a god damn hornet’s nest, the tiny Virgil in his brain hisses. Her smile, somehow, only widens, and that’s . . . that can’t be good, can it? Smiles are supposed to be good! They’re supposed to make you happy, but all Thomas feels is creeping dread and pain, so much pain, and -

Yeah. He’s . . . pretty sure he has a concussion.

“Because if I kill you, you get to take the easy way out. Your suffering will end. But unlike you, I don’t put limits on my science. I know how to cause you the maximum amount of pain.”

Thomas eyes the toxin gun, but the on-screen woman just laughs. “Not yet, Thomas. We need something from you, first.”

“You already took Roman,” Thomas says. “What more can you possibly take from me?”

“You named it? You’re even weaker than I thought.”

“He told me his name, he’s not an it, he’s not a thing for you to play with and - and I -”

There’s a strange sinking feeling in Thomas’s chest as the woman onscreen laughs. “I knew you were emotional, Thomas, but I can’t believe this! It looks like I’ll have more hanging over your head than you thought.”

“You -”

“Say, Tommy-boy, have you heard from your precious little assistant recently?”

Thomas’s entire body flushes ice-cold and then white-hot, immediately struggling against his duct tape bindings despite the man tearing at his hair and shoving the gun into his neck and snapping at him to shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up before I do something we’re both gonna regret -

“Don’t you touch him!” Thomas snaps. “If you hurt him, I swear to God -”

“You’re not in a position to be making demands, and if you don’t calm down, I’ll paint your boring little lab bright red.” Thomas freezes, holding his entire body tensed like electricity is running through his blood.

There are footsteps on the stairs. “Doc? I got your text, what’s -”

“Virgil, run!” Thomas chokes. Virgil comes around the corner, holding his phone, staring at the screen in confusion. He looks up, eyes widening in horror as he takes in the scene.

“You know what to do,” the woman onscreen says. The other woman lifts her tranquilizer gun, and Thomas is sure that he’s screaming, his mouth is open and sound is coming out but his blood is rushing through his ears and his heart is pounding like waves against a boat in rough sea and he can’t - he can’t -

Virgil turns to run, but the tranquilizer dart hits in him the back of the neck and he collapses like a sack of bricks. The woman lowers her gun and jerks her head at the two remaining conscious, unoccupied mercenaries, who step forward and grab Virgil.

“Let him go!” Thomas screams, and his throat feels raw and his chest feels raw and his wrists are rubbed raw and his soul feels hollow and raw, like he’s been scraped out with a jagged piece of metal and only an empty shell remains. Virgil’s head lolls against his chest as they drag him down the grotto tunnel, and Thomas struggles and screams and stares after them until Virgil is out of sight.

His face is damp, and his eyes are burning, and he isn’t sure if it’s blood from his head wound or tears or some strange, morbid mixture of both.

“The greatest torture of which I can conceive,” the woman onscreen says, and it takes him a moment to realize that oh, she’s talking to me, “is to leave you alive, knowing that your precious little protégé is with me, and that there is nothing you can do about it.” She leans forward, and any trace of a smile is gone. “If you try to come after me, I will kill him. If you call the authorities, I will kill him. I already found you, Thomas. Don’t think I’m not watching. If I catch so much as a whiff of you planning something, his blood will be on your hands. Do you understand me?”

Thomas, numb and shocked, can’t even respond. “Knock him out and bring the specimens back to me,” the woman onscreen says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He doesn’t even feel the tranquilizer dart hit his neck, but he welcomes the sweeping darkness.

(Summary: Evil Scientist Lady has been spying on Thomas and she finds the entrance to the grotto where our mer friends have been hiding. She sends her assistant and several armed thugs to invade the lab, they drug Roman with tranquilizers and kidnap him. Thomas gets knocked around a lot and is mocked for being an ethical scientist and caring about people by Evil Scientist Lady and she gloats at him through Evil Facetime before kidnapping Virgil in the same way they did Roman, knocking Thomas unconscious, and leaving him tied to his lab chair. During this whole scene, Patton is out in the open ocean hunting and Logan is safely hidden in Virgil's room.)

#starshinewrites #lovely dark and deep #romantic analogical #sanders sides #platonic TLAMP

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blookmallow · 3 years

Text

rating spirit halloween’s new animatronics for 2021

or at least what’s showing as New Arrivals on the site for me. looks like we got 15 new arrivals listed here and im HYPE about them so here we go

the caretaker

pretty standard reaper character with a Gravedigger theme to it. hes... fine? nothing about this particularly stands out to me, but i dont dislike it at all. i like his gravestone. would be good for a graveyard set. i guess ill give him... 6.5/10

mr. dark

at first glance he also just looks like a standard reaper character (or voldemort. he definitely looks like voldemort now that i think about it) but it turns out he SPRINGS UP RIDICULOUSLY TALL LIKE A CURSED WACKY INFLATABLE TUBE MAN and the spring motion in the video is actually really fucking fast so, while this isn’t a lot different from other jumpscare animatronics, i gotta give him credit bc i guarantee this would have scared the fuck outta me in person. according to the site he’s almost 9 feet tall at his full height

i expected him to jump out and scream but i did not expect. That. i feel like if you put him up on a stage or something to make him loom over people even more he’d be very menacing indeed. would also be really good if you put him behind something so you don’t see him until he's suddenly There

i like him, 8/10 springy spook man

click for more

grave grabber

pretty much just a zombie but he’s cute i like him. i like the green eyes. i dont know what it is about him in motion but the video makes him kind of endearing to me for some reason and i dont know why. 6/10

ophelia

at first for some reason i thought the monster’s name was ophelia but i think that’s supposed to be the name of the victim? i think the idea here is “girl haunted by a Nightmare” but the fact that the monster itself is so small and doesn’t actually have a body for the most part makes this unintentionally hilarious to me

like. it. it’s so small. it’s just a little shoulder demon. it’s so cute

psst. hey do we have any more cheetos

anyway i like how the girl’s eyes move back and forth but the sounds she makes are uncomfortable and she just looks so. stiff and solid and there doesn’t seem to be any movement at all other than her eyes and the monster peeking out so it’s just kind of weird to look at. it’s an interesting concept but the execution is just strange and unintentionally hilarious. 7/10 bc i still think its really funny

someone should buy this and mod it into chrona and ragnarok

harriet hustle

WE DID IT KIDS WE FINALLY GOT A FEMALE CLOWN ANIMATRONIC im so happy i could cry i wish my store had her set up i want to meet her

i love how they have her hanging upside down like this, it makes it so much more visually interesting than the figures that just kinda stand there looking spooky, even though she doesn’t really Do much (she just swings and her head moves around a little, just laughs, doesn’t have spoken lines)

i love her outfit i love her hair shes SO cute i love this little murder gremlin i love her i love her

im still waiting on spirit to give us a female clown figure that isn’t “creepy little girl” (ive commented before on how their only female figures tend to be either the Old Hag or the Creepy Little Girl and not a lot else) but i absolutely love this all the same 20/10

this one is fun too because we also have:

henry hustle

according to the description he’s actually harriet’s dad!! we have an evil clown father and daughter duo here and im LIVING for it

i dont think ive ever seen spirit do characters that are related to each other like this that’s so cute,

apparently his wife/harriet’s mother left them and ran off with the ringmaster. he’s a single father clown trying to raise his evil daughter clown and i support him wholeheartedly

there doesn’t seem to be any more animatronics on this storyline, we don’t have the mother here and the only ringmaster animatronic they have is the rotten ringmaster who was released previously, but i doubt he’s the homewrecker ringmaster in question. he Could Be. imagine if your wife left you for That. we dont even know if henry’s wife was also a clown or not. spirit halloween clown lore going on here

anyway i absolutely LOVE this clown, he does something INCREDIBLY STARTLING AND UNEXPECTED which i dont want to spoil for you. go watch his video and see what he does its great

my absolute favorite type of halloween animatronic is the “does something completely unexpected” category and this one is ALSO a clown and a GOOD clown at that

and he’s got this great vintage clown style i really like, i love scary clowns like this that actually look like they could believably be a real guy and not just some kind of mutant Clown Monster

and hes got cards!! card suit motif!!! i love it i love him this is a great clown 20/10 for him too

w. raith

we have this one at my local store and listen to me. im completely obsessed with this ghost

it’s pretty much just a ghost but it’s SUCH A GOOD ghost. especially in this photo here with proper spooky lighting and everything. i would absolutely LOVE to see this in a haunt attraction, it looks SO good even in bright store lighting. i feel like this under the right lights and in the right environment could look SO fuckign cool

the shredded rag look!!! the ethereal glow!! the weird jellyfishy movement!!! the classic wooOoO oO o o ooo noises!! this may perhaps be the ideal ghost. it is without flaw. a perfect specimen. i fuckign LOVE this ghost i want it so badly but i do not have the space or the money for this thing 15/10 w. raith my beloved. my true love. maybe one day

buzzsaw

at first i was slightly disappointed to see that this guy didn’t have an actual name, but then in the description apparently his name is Bill “Buzzsaw” Jackson and his backstory is he tried to be a wrestler but it didnt go very well so he grafted weapons in place of his hands. i guess. you know, to be better at wrestling. i dont really understand it and i definitely would not have gone with “disgraced former wrestler” as the concept for this guy

but anyway we have mr jackson at my store right now, he’s Big, i like him. he doesn’t really move very fast and doesn’t jump at you, he just kinda swings his saw around. for some reason he just seems friendly to me and i dont know why. makes me think of like an uncle dressed up for halloween rather than an actual murderer guy. i dont know i cant explain it but i like him hes my friend 8/10

wacky mole

this guy’s also at my store this year, i didn’t know his name was wacky mole fsdgjsdg

he’s listed as a new arrival, but i thought i remembered seeing him before, and the description says he’s a returning fan favorite, so. i guess this is a re-release

anyway pretty standard Scary Monster Clown. his teeth look like candy corn. i like it but i think they should just Be candy corn. i like his colorscheme and his silly giant buttons. light up eyes are always a nice touch. he doesnt really stand out but hes overall a pretty good clown. 7/10

grim

good ol’ classic skeleton. he’s pretty nicely modeled though and i highly recommend watching the video for this guy because he moves REALLY well for a spirit animatronic, he’s got a way wider range of movement than most of them do and his head moves really nicely. one of the benefits of a skeleton animatronic is you don’t have to deal with lip movement, so his jaw movements match with his lines a lot more realistically. i like the animated glowing eyes too, it really gives him a lot of personality. he’s really interesting to watch. like, it’s just a skeleton, but it’s a really really good skeleton, so, 8/10

BEETLEJUICE!!

i love love love franchise character animatronics and spirit has so much great beetlejuice stuff this seems well suited to them but looking at it............. hm. hm

he just looks so. stiff and his face comes across like, deer caught in the headlights to me. it Does Not look very natural but it looks slightly better in motion (he just swivels from side to side and says a few phrases but it somehow looks less. shellshocked when he’s moving)

maybe not the greatest execution but maybe he looks better in person and im still hype to see him so 8/10 regardless

night stalker

we have this guy at my store too, im still not really sure what’s going on with his arms (did he just rip loose from them and leave them behind? did someone do this to him? i dont know) but i love a good spooky scarecrow. love his Wiggles. hes a pretty good boy. 6.5/10

here we have another pennywise, it pretty much just pops out at you, but it’s still pretty good. i like the full size one they had before better, but this one’s slightly cheaper and would be easier to integrate into a haunted house attraction since he comes with a built in set piece. it looks good but doesn’t do much. 7.5/10 i guess

GHOSTFACE!!!!

FUCK YES I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

please. please spirit halloween set him up in my store so i can see him

anyway hes got kind of the same issue beetlejuice has where the figure just. looks kind of stiff, and he looks more like a spooky ghost decoration than like, A Person. he doesnt seem to have any lines or anything either, he just kinda pops out. but then again i guess whenever we see ghostface in person in the movies he doesn’t usually talk anyway. i dont really know how id make this better but it seems a little underwhelming somehow. still hype to see it though. 7/10 i guess

now if we could just get a jack torrance and a bela lugosi dracula id be content

i would LOVE to see Red from Us but i doubt they’d do one. my other horror beloved is norman bates but i know if they made one of him it’d just be him in a dress waving a knife around (not that i wouldn’t still be hype to see him, but, y’know) (anyway. tangent. moving on)

mr. howle

it’s. a werewolf. he howls. that’s....... about it

it’s a very nice looking werewolf, it’s a well designed figure and definitely looks very imposing, but it’s... just a werewolf. there’s not really anything particularly interesting or creative here. its a perfectly good werewolf. i dont have anything to say about this. 6.5/10

i also just am not a werewolf person so maybe someone out there who has a greater appreciation for werewolves might like him more

#spirit halloween #spirit 2021

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omiluvbug · 3 years

Text

Office Hours (Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader oneshot)

This oneshot can be viewed on AO3 and Wattpad too!

You woke up at around 6:30 am as the sun's rays peeked through the shallow gaps in the curtains by your window. This created soft rays of light traveling through the room, basking the plain white walls in soft hues of orange and yellow. You patted the bed as you looked for your alarm clock which blared an overly obnoxious sound.

Groaning, you got up, your hair a tangled mess as well as your patterned pajamas. You threw your blanket to the side as you stretched out her limbs. You contemplated on whether to stay in bed or go to work. You didn't really want to go to work today. Just the thought of you sitting down at your boring table for 8 hours doesn't seem that much exciting. You'd rather stay at home and curl up in your chair by the window, looking out to a nice view of the city.

However, you couldn't really risk getting scolded so early in the morning in front of a lot of people. Just the thought of it deeply embarrassed you. Sighing, you got up and lazily fixed your queen-sized bed, throwing pillows on top of another and draping the blanket over the comforter.

You quickly did her morning routine—washing your face and brushing your teeth, then changing into your usual office attire and applying some makeup. Afterwards, you quickly fixed your hair before going to the kitchen to prepare a small breakfast. You scrolled through her phone as you ate, laughing slightly at ridiculous posts of some strangers on the internet.

You liked these kinds of moments; moments where you would usually be just by yourself in the morning, enjoying your breakfast as you looked through her phone, or listening to songs as you made food or cleaned the house. It was mundane for sure, just a normal day-to-day living, but it provided you a sense of comfort, even just for a little bit.

"Oh crap!" You quickly jumped to your feet as you noticed the time. You didn't realize that you were on your phone for far too long. If you don't get out of the house now, you'll miss your train. You hurriedly grabbed your bag and threw it over your shoulder as you wore whatever colored pump you could find. You then dashed through the door, making your way towards the train station which was a 10 minute walk away from home.

"Woah there, careful," Said a man with long hair tied into a bun and bangs perfectly framing his face. His hands were on your arm, preventing you from tripping on the boxes on the floor. He wore deep navy pants with the jacket loosely hanging from his arm. Two buttons of his white dress shirt were opened, making you look elsewhere.

"We don't want anyone tripping over these boxes now, don't we?" He implied, looking at you as if he was waiting for some sort of response. "You alright there, Y/N?"

"My apologies, Mr. Getou!" You said, your eyes wide open and your lips slightly agape. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and I—"

Getou chuckled, waving a dismissive hand in front of you. "It's alright, dear." He bent down to pick the stray boxes up before placing them on top of a random table. He then looked at his watch, his eyebrows rising. "You better get to where you're going if you don't want to be scolded. CEO's a handful when he's mad."

Flashing you another smile, Getou began walking away and disappeared into a nearby hallway. Suguru Getou is the operations manager of the company, responsible for hiring new staff members and training them, as well as monitoring personnel documentation, to name a few. He works alongside Satoru Gojo who deals with financial statistics of the company.

"Yuji! Hurry up!" You turned and saw three unfamiliar faces walking in the hallway. Two of them were boys, while one of them was a girl with orange colored hair and a frown on her face. She wore a pastel pink suit with a white dress shirt underneath. They looked young, and perhaps maybe a little bit out of place.

"It's your damn fault we're running late!" She hissed, glaring at the boy with pink hair and lightly hitting him with her bag. The boy stuck his tongue out like a little kid, causing the lady to scoff.

"Me? Blame Megumi! He's the one who stopped at a nearby park just to pet the dogs and won't leave until he called each one of them 'good girls' and 'good boys!'"

"Leave me out of this," the other boy said grumpily, shaking his head as he walked away and left the two.

"Interns! Right here!" Ijichi called, calling the attention of the three. The three rushed towards the man, the girl's coffee almost spilling along the way.

Ah, so that's why they were unfamiliar to you, they're interns. You smiled a bit as you looked at the three playfully bickering while following Ijichi. It reminded you of your friends way back in high school. Suddenly, you wondered how they were doing. You're not much in contact with them these days as everyone is busy with their own lives. Besides, they weren't making much of an effort on trying to contact you anyway.

"Get going, lady. These hallways are not the place to hang around, no?" said Satoru Gojo, who was followed by Shoko Ieri, the team's assistant manager. Shoko was quick to slap the man's bicep, scolding him for being so rude so early in the morning.

"Alright, geez. My bad." Gojo's hands were in his pockets as he walked, his head casually tipping to the side as he looked at the woman before her before paying attention to you. He was wearing his usual black sunglasses. Why he wore it inside the building was something you didn’t know the reason for. "Good Morning, Y/N."

"Good Morning," You greeted back, causing the man to grin and the lady to smile.

"I see you're running late today." There was a teasing tone evident in his voice. He was going to say something more when Shoko tugged him closer, shaking her head and widening her eyes at him.

"Right, well," Gojo stuttered, gently removing Shoko's hand from his bicep. "See ya around, Y/N!" They began walking away, muttering something amongst themselves. You even caught a glimpse of Gojo looking back at you and chuckling which left you confused. What was that about?

Perhaps everyone was running late today. It was quite understandable as it was Monday. You spotted a few people rushing inside the building as you clocked in. You placed your card back to the holder before making your way to the 5th floor, where you usually do her work. You were in the Public Relations Department, mostly coordinating public events for the company, helping in gaining favorable media coverage, and maintaining the company's relationship with investors among others.

As you arrived at her floor, you quickly made your way towards your table and placed your bag on the chair before throwing away the crumbled paper you failed to discard the day before. You greeted your coworkers as you didn't want to seem rude.

The floor was brightly lit because of the huge windows that enabled natural light to pass through the transparent material. The floor was tiled and there were gorgeous wood accents plastered on the wall. Wood wall dividers were also used to separate the work space from the couch—where the employees would usually sit down during breaks to chat or wind down. And instead of cubicles, there were tables, allowing the employees to easily talk to each other when needed.

"Good morning! Here's some morning newspapers, Y/N." The head of the PR Department, Iori Utahime, greeted you with a smile. "Morning assembly meeting starts in a few minutes. We're just waiting for the CEO."

"He's running late too, Ms. Utahime?" You wondered why, but then you remembered that the CEO had a very important business meeting to attend over the weekend in Osaka.

"Seems like everyone is. It's a monday after all." She clapped her hands behind her back, shifting her weight from one foot to another. "I almost missed my train earlier! I had to run out of the house with bread in my mouth while fixing my hair."

You looked at the lady before you. She doesn't look disheveled, infact, she looked presentable as always. Her hair was combed nicely and was in a half-up half-down updo—she even had a little bow tied on her hair which you thought was quite adorable. Her white dress shirt and red pencil skirt was tailored to her body perfectly, leaving no unflattering gaps in the material.

"Good thing I made it in time though," she added as she mindlessly twirled a strand of hair on her hands. "I regret binge watching that drama last night."

You scrunched her face, knowing the feeling of staying up all night and regretting it the following morning. Utahime laughed, finding your reaction cute, before she patted your shoulders before bidding you a short goodbye. She went to the other's tables, greeting them a good morning and asking them about their plans for the day.

As you waited for the meeting to begin, you turned your desktop on and browsed through the emails. You frowned upon seeing some spam mails and quickly discarded them to the bin. You made a mental note to tell the head director that a certain investor wanted to make some changes with some of the deals. After that, you then skimmed through your newspaper, catching up on news that she might have missed over the weekend.

Soon, it was 9 am and the morning assembly meeting started. You stood up straight as their CEO, Kento Nanami, entered the floor alongside his trusty secretary, Yu Haibara, as well as a few other people. All eyes followed him as he walked towards the front of the room. You almost missed it, but the three interns were with them too, following Ijichi like they're lost puppies.

The CEO's face was stern, yet he returned the smiles the other employees gave him. Your breath hitched when you two made eye contact, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. Nanami briefly smiled at you before turning his attention back to the other employees. However, the lingering feeling stayed with you. Oh my god.

It almost felt silly feeling butterflies over a brief eye contact. You were already an adult yet you still act like a lovestruck high school student whenever you meet eyes with your crush. However, you accepted the way you felt around Nanami. He was intelligent, polite, poised, extremely good-looking, and a gentleman.

You couldn't help but to sigh. What was there to not swoon over for? He's literally the real deal.

You noticed that he was more casual with the way he dressed today. Rather than his usual cream-colored suit paired with a blue dress shirt underneath and his partnered tie, he wore a black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing his expensive watch on one hand and toned arms. He paired it with a pair of off-white tapered pants. His hair was slicked back, with a few loose strands of hair he had to brush up every now and then. His shoes were perfectly polished too, clanking ever so softly as he took a step.

Perhaps Kento Nanami was one of the reasons why you still chose to attend your job so early in the morning.

"Good morning." His voice was authoritative yet still soft and gentle. You even noticed the soft giggles some female employees let out upon hearing his voice. You chuckled as you shook your head. You couldn't really blame them for being giddy over him. Almost everyone is.

A chorus of hello's and good morning's were heard. Nanamin went through some announcements and important matters to discuss, mainly about increasing customer satisfaction rate and the like. He also talked about the short business trip he went to over the weekend and disclosed some information about future plans for a major project. At the same time, the department heads reported what plans they'll be doing for the rest of the day. Haibara happily took notes on his iPad, trying his hardest not to miss any important information.

"Very well," Nanami spoke, the attention once again turning to him. He acknowledged the effort each department had and thanked them for their hard work. This definitely boosted the morale of the employee seeing the smile and grins on their faces.

Nanami leaned a bit on the table, his arms crossed over his chests. He made eye contact with you one more time before turning his attention to the man beside him. "Ijichi, if you will. Thank you."

Ijichi nodded and walked forward, a kind smile evident on his face. A few coworkers giggled a bit, finding the man's actions kind of adorable.

"Good morning," he greeted. "As you may all know, fall internships have already begun. Here we have three students from The University of Tokyo who will be seeking our guidance for the rest of the year."

He then gestured to the interns to start introducing themselves. The first one to do so was the lady wearing a pastel pink suit. She had a genuine smile on her face rather than the frown she had earlier in the morning. You thought that she was pretty—very fashionable too.

"Good morning! I'm Kugisaki Nobara and I'm 21 years old. Please take good care of me! I humbly seek your guidance!"

"Um." The next up was the boy with pink hair. He was quite charming to say the least; very bubbly and smiley much like the lady. "I'm Yuji Itadori. 20 years old, and I look forward to working with you all! Please go easy on me!"

Finally, the boy with dark hair spoke. He was quite shy and kind of stoic at first glance. "I'm Megumi Fushiguro. I'm 20 years old and I'm looking forward to working with you all too. Please guide us well… and I would like to apologize in advance for all the troubles these two might cause."

The two intern's mouth went agape and a few other employees let out a chuckle. The employees then politely clapped for the three. Even Nanami did too and you couldn't help to notice the small smile forming on his lips—as if he was already growing fond of the interns. This made you smile too. You had always liked having interns around. Just last fall, other students interned in this company as well and you could still vividly remember how rowdy and lively the lot were. Two of them were from UTokyo, while the others were from KyotoU.

After the morning assembly meeting, the employees went back to their desks. You took a quick detour to the pantry to brew yourself some coffee before going back to her table. As you sat down, you folded the newspapers and kept them in your drawer as you were already finished reading them. Then, you went back to work.

The office was fairly quiet during working hours. Everyone was busy typing away on their keyboards to even spare the other employees a glance. It reminded you of libraries from school.

You reached out for your drink and frowned when you noticed that it was already empty. It was finished already? You didn’t even notice that the time was passing by so quickly. You contemplated on whether you should get up and brew some more, but you were already getting comfortable in your chair and didn't want to move an inch.

As if on cue, Gojo tapped your desk, making you turn to his direction. He had a cup of warm drink in his hands and grinned at her. You raised her eyebrow at him, confused with his sudden appearance. Usually he'll be on the third floor, supervising his department, or on the sixth floor, hanging out with other directors.

"A delivery for you, my lady." He put the warm drink down on her table and before you could even ask him why he gave it to you, he was already walking towards the elevator.

Frowning, you looked at the cup. Written on it was your favorite drink and a name that made your cheeks flush red. You covered half of your face, glaring at Gojo who was grinning as he waited for the elevator door to close. Grabbing your post-it from your desk, you covered the name written on your cup. Clicking your tongue, you went back to work and tried to bury the embarrassing feeling brewing inside you.

When lunch time came, you decided to go to a nearby restaurant with a few other employees. You and your coworkers settled on a table near the door by the big windows. As you sat down, your attention was diverted towards the door, where the CEO and his secretary stood. They seemed to be looking for someone as their eyes trailed around the restaurant.

"Nanamin!" Gojo called, not even addressing the man properly. The white-haired man waved his arms around, catching a few people's attention. Getou, Shoko, and Utahime, who were with him, just shook their heads as they ate their food, as if pretending that they didn’t know him.

Nanami was about to approach them until he locked eyes with you once again. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as you noticed him approaching your table, Haibara following behind him. Your coworkers didn't seem to notice the CEO until he cleared his throat.

"Ah! Mr. Nanami!" The man before you stuttered. Nanami just offered him a kind smile before gesturing him to sit down.

"Is it alright if I ate with you today?" He asked and the others nodded. Well, they didn't really have that much of a choice—who would turn down someone like Nanami?

It was as if the universe was in your favor. Nanami pulled the seat beside you and sat on it, your knees subtly brushing against each other as he fixed his posture. However, he didn't seem to mind as he conversed with your coworkers. Haibara, who sat at the head of the table, sneakily glanced between you and Nanami, biting his lips as he tried to hide his smile.

The others then decided to begin ordering their own meals. However, you still don't know what to get. Maybe Nanami sitting beside you was a little bit distracting, and maybe he kind of knew it based on the small smiles he lets slip past his mouth every now and then.

"Ms. L/N?"

"Y-yes?" You turned to Nanami, heat rising to your cheeks.

You stared into his brown eyes. It reminded you of autumn for some reason. It was kind of fitting for someone like him, you concluded; a bit cold, but still makes you feel comfort and warmth. Maybe one of the reasons why Nanami reminded you of autumn so much is because naturally, the autumn season has a kind of romantic aspect to it. Perhaps it was the scenarios you think of with him before heading to bed, or maybe because you were actually falling deeply for him, but you couldn't help but to think that maybe, Nanami has a romantic side to him too.

You didn't realize that you were staring at him for far too long until you heard his soft chuckle. Looking away, you tried to compose yourself. However, the butterflies in your stomach seem to flutter more and more as they hear the wonderful song that is Nanami's voice.

"Are you good to order? I can line up to the counter for you," he offered.

It was embarrassing honestly, making a total fool of yourself in front of such a respectable man like him. "Um… no, it's fine, Mr. Nanami."

"Is [favorite food] and [favorite drink] alright?" He asked, standing up and grabbing his wallet from his back pocket.

You could only nod as he made his way towards the counter, catching up to Haibara and a few other employees. You were the only one left on the table, which gave you a responsibility to secure it. Not that you mind.

"So!" You nearly jumped when you heard Gojo Satoru beside you. How he managed to sneak up on you from the other side of the restaurant was something you don't know. He shamelessly sat himself on the chair beside you, which was previously occupied by Nanami. "You and Nanami, huh?"

"What?" You stuttered, completely baffled by his statement. The man just leaned back on his chair, causally tipping back a bit. "Pardon me but what are you talking about, Mr. Gojo?"

"Gojo is fine." The man scrunched his nose. "You're making me sound like an old man. I hate it."

You purse your lips, considering his statement. It seems like he didn't really mind dropping the honorifics that much. He leaned back further on his chair, propping his sunglasses on top of his head.

"You know," he began, looking over at Nanami's direction. "Nanami usually never dines with employees. I know you saw me call him over earlier, but he didn't hesitate one bit on walking towards your direction when you made eye contact." He then clicked his tongue, raising an eyebrow at you. "Which makes me conclude that what I wrote on your cup earlier was true. Am I right?"

You honestly didn't know what to say. He had a teasing grin on his face, much wider than the one he had earlier in the morning. He crossed his arms against his chest, silently urging you to spill it out already.

"I believe that seat was taken." Nanami came back with a tray with both your orders in his hands. The others were still by the counter, waiting for their turn.

Gojo whistled before standing up. "My apologies," he uttered, patting Nanami at the shoulder. "Pardon me for intruding on your little date."

You were expecting Nanami to deny his claim, but the blond didn't say anything. Instead, he calmly placed your order in front of you before sitting down. It was evident that he was ignoring Gojo, which caused the white-haired man to chuckle and shake his head. Gojo then gave you a wink before heading back to his table.

"Was he bothering you?" Nanami asked and you shook your head.

"No… not really." Nanami gave you a look, as if he wasn't buying it. "I'm fine really, Mr. Nanami. Thanks for your concern."

You gave him a smile and Nanami subtly returned one back. He was about to say something else when the other employees arrived, preventing him from doing so. Nanami cleared his throat and began eating, occasionally looking at you from time-to-time.

"Finally! I’m going home!" You yawned, stretching a bit on your chair. A few employees have already gone home as they finished their job a bit early. Breezily, you gathered all your valuables and placed them in your bag. Then, you decluttered your table before grabbing your coat and putting it on.

It was a 10 minute walk from the company to the nearest train station. The train was definitely cramped since it was getting kind of late. Students were seated on the chair, other employees were busy on their phones or reading a newspaper, and others were dozing off.

You sighed, wanting to get home as early as you could so you could jump into a nice warm bath and maybe even make yourself a nice dinner and watch a good show. It was a bit chilly at night too, so you'll sure be snuggling up to your bed, with multiple blankets laid on top of you.

Even though all of these things sound amazing, there is something else that you're looking forward to. You covered your mouth as you tried to hide a smile—you didn't want to get weird looks from other people, thinking you're out of your mind or something.

You unlocked the door of your apartment and made your way inside. You left your bag and shoes by the door as you took your coat off and hung it on the coat rack. You wore your indoor slippers before walking to the bathroom to take your makeup off.

As you did so, you grabbed your phone and played some music. You then turned the bath faucet on and waited for it to be the right temperature before stripping off and lowered yourself in the tub. You then made sure to tie your hair up, preventing it from getting wet.

The warm water soothed your sore muscles. You instantly felt at ease. This is exactly what you needed—a nice relaxing night after a long hard day at work. Humming to yourself, you sank further into the tub, letting the water reach up to your shoulders. You giggled as you played with the bubbles, making random shapes and drawing silly little soap faces on your legs.

Deep in your own moment, you didn't hear the opening of the main door nor the shoes being placed inside the shoe cabinet right beside yours. You didn't hear the leather bag being placed on top of the kitchen table nor the knock on the bathroom door. However, you did hear the door knob turning and the footsteps of the man walking towards you.

"Good evening, darling." Your husband, Kento Nanami, greeted you. He seated on the edge of the tub, looking at you with such adoration in his eyes. He looked tired, but still handsome. He tucked a hair behind your ear and you instantly leaned into his touch. He chuckled, holding your cheek, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your skin.

"Welcome home, Kento." You smiled, making his heart swoon. Despite being with him for the most of the day, you missed him.

Nanami placed a kiss on the crown of your head, making you sigh happily and giggle. "Would it be alright if I joined you?"

You nodded. Nanami had always been a man of consent. He always asks before approaching you. He had also always put you first before himself. He had always pampered you, cared for you, and made sure that you'll feel the love that you deserve. He was a very sweet guy, really—charming, dreamy . Perhaps you were one lucky girl to have someone like him in your life.

"I noticed you wore our wedding ring to work today," he said as he took his shirt off. He then began unbuckling his belt, making you look away. You had already seen his body multiple times, but it still makes your cheeks heat up. Nanami chuckled as he saw your reaction. You were adorable.

He placed a hand on your back as he guided you to move forward, making some room for him. He leaned back as you settled in between his legs, letting you rest your back on his chest. He draped his hands around you, softly caging you in his arms as he leaned his cheek on the top of your head.

"Well I liked the look of it on my fingers," you answered. "I noticed you wore it too… the other day."

Nanami hummed, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. It's not like you weren't proud of being married. Rather than that, it was merely just because Nanami wanted to see how long it would take for his employees to notice that he was, in fact, already someone else’s spouse. He had been subtly hinting it to others too—small bouquet of flowers on your table during special occasions (birthdays and anniversaries), simple random gifts at any time of the day, occasionally matching outfits with each other, and random lovesick post-it notes placed on your desktop monitor.

You couldn't deny it but you were definitely hopeful to see the priceless reactions of the employees once they did find out. This little game than Nanami created made the office hours more exciting—for the two of you anyway.

"I think Gojo already knows," you said, intertwining your hands together. "He gave me coffee earlier with the writing: 'nanamin's wife'"

"Perhaps it accidentally slipped from my mouth when we were on a business trip over the weekend." Nanami turned you around so you were facing him, letting you rest on his chest. He let his hand rest on your lower back. "Getou knows too. I bet Gojo told him. Were they bothering you too much? I saw Gojo pestering you earlier during lunch and you looked kind of uncomfortable."

"Not uncomfortable, just surprised," you answered. "I just didn't know how to act. We never talked about how to react when they found out."

Nanami chuckled. He held your chin and placed a soft tender kiss on your lips. The action made you shiver, making him smile through the kiss. Even just for a short while, you felt breathless.

"Just let things happen," Nanami murmured as he rested his head on the crook of your neck. He placed kisses on your neck and shoulder too, making you giggle due to the tickling sensation.

"You're being awfully clingy today, Kento." You brushed some of his hair away from his face, looking at his perfectly chiseled features. "You kept glancing at me at work and smiling at me, then you ate lunch with me, and now you're being so affectionate… not that I mind it though."

"I missed you, darling. That’s all." He placed another kiss on the corner of your lips. "I was in Osaka over the weekend, naturally, I would want to be around my sweet girl."

You laughed and nodded, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks once again. Nanami wasn't usually a touchy and a physically affectionate person, especially outside the house. He wasn’t a fan of public displays of affection, but he does make up for it whenever you two are alone.

Something you also noticed about him even from the first time you started dating, was that he was very subtle in the way he loved. He wasn't extravagant nor boastful with gifts. He was sure to keep it simple. Special occasions were an exception though.

You didn't mind it that much. You weren't a fan of lavish types of love and gift giving anyway—it's kind of overwhelming. The love that Nanami gives you was enough—not too less, not too much, it was the perfect balance in between.

Both of you stayed in the tub for a while, just enjoying the moment as you two held each other. It was peaceful, with occasional innocent words of affection exchanged between the two of you. You were glad that office hours were over, enabling you to enjoy your time alone with your husband.

After a few moments, Nanami ushered you to stand as he rinsed the bubbles on your body with the shower head. You giggled as the water accidentally sprayed on his face, causing him to squint and lightly shake his head—like a dog. You grabbed a towel from the rack and gently patted his face. Nanami even sneaked a small kiss on your wrist, causing you to squeal and bashfully smack him on his chest.

"All these years we spent together and you're still shy whenever I shower you with affection." Nanami tugged you closer to him as he draped a robe over your body. You both wore matching classic white ones, small initials of your name imprinted in his.

"I don't know why I just can't get used to the feeling!" You said, huffing.

"That's good. I like seeing your reactions." Nanami smiled, brushing your hair with his hands. There were some tangles in it, but he didn't mind. He liked brushing them away with his fingers nonetheless.

Nanami just stared at you, his heart thumping happily in his chest, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He wondered what his life would be like if you weren't around. Shaking his head, he didn't want to think of it. You were there, in front of him, in his arms. It was enough.You were enough. Nanami couldn't bear living his life without having you around anyway. Perhaps you might have just bewitched his heart with your charms. But he was so in love with you that he didn't mind.

"You're as pretty as a flower, my sweet." He tugged you even closer to him, wrapping his arms around your frame and resting his head on top of yours. He looked at your reflection in the mirror. Your kind smile, your flushed cheeks—To Nanami, you were perfect.

"Kento?" He hummed, still looking at your face through the reflection. "Would you watch [favorite movie] with me?"

He chuckled, patting your head. How could he say no to you? "Of course, darling. Office hours are already over, right?"

#fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x y/n #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #mentioned jujutsu kaisen characters #romance #fanfiction #self insert #y/n #anime #office

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rbbalmung · 4 years

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Pokemon SwSh GPL AU: Get to know ______ P3

It’s time for THE BOYS. My biggest conclusion from putting this together is that while Raihan enjoys pushing everyone else’s buttons, Leon is the only person that can fluster the hell out of him. Please enjoy.

Get to Know: Leon x Raihan (TrueRivalShipping)

1: Who spends almost all their money on the other? Leon. He feels like the type of person whose love language is gift giving (ex. giving Hop Wooloo and Grookey, giving Gloria Scorbunny, Yamper, and Charmander, ect.). That being said, he’s terrible at getting gifts. He can tell exactly what type of Pokemon a person would want and catch it, but presents? He once got Raihan a charmander watch made for kids without even considering it wouldn’t fit him.

2: Who sleeps in the other’s lap? Leon. They’re both tall, but Lee’s the smaller of the two.

3: Who walks around the house half-naked and who yells at them to put on some clothes? Raihan would definitely strut around just to get a reaction out of Leon. Half the time his intentions are to get him into bed, but the other half? Embarrass Leon when he’s on Rotom calls with his mum (don’t worry, he wears pants for those instances).

4: Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway? They’re both night owls. They stay up either playing video games or watching Netflix (or whatever the pokemon equivalent to that is). They had to invest in a bigger couch due to how often they have passed out on it. (When I say bigger couch, I definitely mean a futon. They just straight up by the closest thing they can to another bed).

5: Which one tries to make food for the other but burns it all by accident and which one tells them that it’s okay and makes them both cookies? Hop inherited their mum’s cooking skills. Since Leon spent most of his young adult life as a champion who never really had time to stay at home and cook a real meal, it is up to Raihan to provide. Lee was permanently designated to cleanup duty after nearly burning the apartment down.

6: Which one reads OTP prompts and says “Oh that’s us!” and which one goes “Eh, not really”? Leon would say,” Oh, that’s us!” and Raihan would say,” Eh, not really?” just to spite him. There is a lot of teasing and playful banter in their relationship.

7: Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes? Raihan, but only because he would literally murder Leon if he borrowed one of his designer sweatshirts. There’s also the added benefit that Lee’s clothes are a lot comfier.

8: Which one spends all day running errands and which one says “You remembered [thing], right?” Leon isn’t allowed to run errands by himself because he’d get lost, so Raihan is usually the grocery-getter. Raihan will be in the checkout line and almost always get a last minute text from Leon asking for one more item. It drives Raihan bonkers.

9: Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions? Leon is the driver, and Raihan is the “direction giver” (let’s be real, he’s more focused on what song they play next than getting them to their destination). If it’s a group road trip, neither of them are allowed in the front because they’ll just end up getting everyone lost.

10: Which one does the posing while the other one draws? Ok, so I don’t really think one of them would draw the other. They’re much more of an “active, sporty couple” than an “artsy couple”. That doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened, though. During one of their dates, they decided to doodle each other on their napkins to help pass the time. They were both terrible and it got really heated when the waitress chose Leon’s drawing as “slightly less worse”.

11: If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips? Are you kidding? They’d both try to out-do each other. Both backflippers.

12: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking? I feel like even though Leon has more body mass than Raihan, he’d be the lightweight of the two. Both have been in the League since they were in their late teens, but Leon’s public image had a lot more specifications than Raihan’s. That meant Raihan got to go to a lot more college parties on his nights off and build up his tolerance. Leon’s public relations manager didn’t let him even look at alcohol until he stepped down as champion. He had to “set a good example for his young fans”. (Sufficed to say, Gloria quickly got a new PR manager when she filled his role).

14: Which one keeps accidentally using the other’s last name instead of their own? Raihan learned that if he used Leon’s last name, he could get special treatment. It’s an abuse of power! Especially when they’re having dinner at the Hoffman house and Raihan casually slips in that he’s planning on taking Lee’s last name once they marry. Leon’s convinced his grandparents like Raihan better than they like him at this point.

15: Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside? Raihan, though he’ll go to an early grave before admitting that. He just doesn’t want them getting webbing on his new shoes! Yeah...that’s it.

16: Which one gives the other their jacket? Leon. It was mentioned above, but Raihan has to be in a really good mood in order to let Leon borrow his stuff. It isn’t that big of a deal, thankfully: The Hoffman boys are like personal heaters.

17: Who keeps getting threatened by the other’s overprotective older sibling? Ok, ok, ok: Raihan is slightly intimidated by Hop. He just wants the best for his big bro! If that means calling Raihan out of his shit from time to time to keep him in line, so be it. Raihan can’t fight back either, because that’s his boyfriend’s little brother! One of the only things Leon gets testy over is people bullying Hop, so Raihan has to do it when he isn’t around.

18: Who’s the first one to admit they have feelings for the other? Leon. It wasn’t one of those things where they’ve always liked each other, but after being friends for so long, their feelings blossomed into something new. Lee is a big flirt and never officially came out, so Raihan just figured he didn’t mean it whenever he complimented him. Leon literally confessed to Raihan at least five time before it sank in that he was serious.

19: How good would your OTP be at parenting? I think they’d actually be pretty good! Leon helped raise Hop and he definitely has the dad act down, so adopting children would be something he’d be super interested in. Raihan may struggle a little bit at first (especially with where the line of what he could and couldn’t post on social media was), but he has a big heart. They would always be there for their kids. If Gloria and Hop are the cool parents, Leon and Raihan are the embarrassing ones. Would tease their kid lovingly.

20: Which one types with perfect grammar and which one types using numbers as letters? Leon has sent a lot of professional texts because of his former position as champion, so he’d win by default. If they’re texting each other, it is all in numbers, emojis, and abbreviations. Sonia, Piers, and Nessa hate being in group chats with them.

21: Who gets attacked by a bully and who protects them? Lee is the more protective of the two, especially when it comes to people bullying Raihan online. Raihan tries to tell him that he doesn't have to do it, but he’s secretly very flattered.

22: Who makes the bad puns and who makes a pained smile every time the other makes a pun? Leon makes the worst dad jokes in the world. Sometimes he does it just to embarrass Raihan.

23: Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy? They take turns. Raihan will catch a Hakamo-o to beat Lee’s Aegislash, only for Lee to catch an Azumarill from the Isle of Armor a week later. It’s a never ending game of trying to one up the other.

24: Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired? Leon. He’s pretty buff, so carrying Raihan around is nothing. He usually does it without asking if his boyfriend looks tired and flusters the heck out of him.

25: Which one competes in some sort of activity and which one does the overzealous cheering? Ever since Leon left he league, he makes it a priority to go to every one of Raihan’s matches. He often dons ridiculous disguises in order to not get recognised, but he always gets recognised. There is an online forum just made up of pictures of him in different, weird attire. He might’ve even been able to slip by public notice if not for the fact that he tries to make AS MUCH NOISE AS POSSIBLE to cheer his boyfriend on.

26: Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder? Is there even a possible different answer than Raihan? The man takes selfies as a living. You better believe he has 8 different folders of pictures of Leon.

27: Which one would give the other a makeover if they asked? Raihan. Leon is so close to having style, but then he’ll throw on his signature snapback and a cape and ruin everything. You know the cape isn’t even a requirement for the champion to wear? Yeah, Lee just chose to wear it. He counts it as a small victory whenever Leon decides to buy something at one of Rai’s favourite stores.

28: Which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of? Raihan tries not to get between Leon and Charizard. It’s a similar situation to the Hop one: Charizard is Lee’s baby, which means Raihan isn’t allowed to tease them.

29: Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains? Raihan, but he purposely will move the umbrella out from above Leon to get him soaked. It’s payback for all the other stuff he does.

30: If your OTP went on vacation, where would they go and what would they do? Who would take the pictures? Like Gloria and Hop, I think they’d travel to all the regions. They’d have to do it on off seasons and couldn't stay long due to their duties in Galar, but they like seeing the new types of pokemon. Once again, Rai would take millions of pictures. He has a photo album per vacation, not just vacation in general.

#GPL AU #pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon au #pokemon swsh #swsh #swsh leon #pokemon leon #champion leon #swsh raihan #pokemon raihan #gym leader raihan #leon x raihan #truerivalshipping #The banter between these two would be unbeatable #half the time people aren't sure if they even like each other #best boyfriends ever

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aphrodites-law · 4 years

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A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (12/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11]

A few minutes before closing time the next day, Clarke was waiting at the end of the counter for surprise customers. Gaia was already wrapping her scarf around her neck and Wells was pulling out ingredients for the next day. He had stayed much later today, going over resumes for their interviews tomorrow, but also reorganizing the kitchen.

After giving Gustus a call to offer him the job, Wells had realized that things would get crowded quite quickly. Gustus was a big man and the kitchen was on the smaller side, but it was workable with a different layout. Clarke thanked her lucky stars for her best friend's ability to adapt to situations, as she herself disliked big changes. Regardless of the possible growing pains ahead, it was an exciting time for the café.

Right after Gaia left with a tired wave, Wells found Clarke absentmindedly drawing the branches of the weeping fig. The last customers had left as well and the sun had already set. The mugs were clean, the plates drying, and the day's crumbs swept from the floor. It hadn't rained at all today; a small mercy given that Clarke couldn't stop thinking about her date with Lexa. She wasn't sure where they were headed, but heavy rain might've halted Lexa's plans and she didn't have the patience to wait another day.

Wells peeked at her drawing pad and sighed. "God, she's a beauty," he said dreamily.

Clarke snorted. His fondness for their Ficus was a running joke between them. "Weirdo."

Wells gave her a tired grin as he buttoned up his wool peacoat. He always looked so sharp in winter wear, whereas Clarke always felt like a bulky bear. She'd dressed up a little today - fitted dark pants and a knitted sweater with a nice scoop neck. Her boots were clean and if her hair's curls had loosened over the day, she had still clearly made an effort to look presentable.

“So, you had your vision," said Wells.

Clarke dropped her pencil. "Wh- I- what?"

"It was a few weeks ago, wasn't it? When you came in looking like you hadn’t slept a wink."

Shame gripped her. "Wells, I-"

“You’re looking more crimson than cranberry juice,” he pointed out with a laugh.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know how to bring it up," she said. She'd always felt guilty for keeping it from him, but it wasn't the easiest topic either. "Did Raven tell you?"

"Nah, she even deflected when I wondered aloud. You just started acting weird whenever someone mentioned visions. You hate lying, so I figured you didn't want to be asked if you'd had one."

Clarke closed her notepad. She should have known he'd catch on. "I didn't mean to be secretive. You know I would've told you the minute it happened, it just wasn't… family friendly."

"Yeah, I figured. It's good though? I mean, you're happy, right?"

It was a surprising question, though it shouldn't have been. Clarke hadn't really thought about it. It wasn't something she asked herself or even expected. For so long happiness had just revolved around the café. Finding the right name; the right building; the right theme. She'd judged her days based on their achieved goals and for a while it had been a thrill. And it still was - her work made her proud and it made her happy too - but it wasn't everything. She'd come to face that recently, and though the wake up call had been… unconventional, certainly, she was grateful for it.

"I am. I'm seeing her, actually. The woman from my vision. You'd recognize her - she's a regular."

Wells nodded as if he'd already put two and two together. “At Octavia and Lincoln's party I saw you talking to her. Then it clicked she wrote that article on Finn - I remembered checking her profile on the Gazette when it dropped."

"Yeah, she works there. She's writing a piece on the visions actually."

"So it's getting serious?" He asked hesitantly.

And really, Clarke couldn't fault his curiosity. She'd been so wrapped up in Lexa that she'd neglected their relationship and now he was unsure if he should gently prod or wait.

“It’s new and we’re taking things slow, but yeah, I'm hoping it'll work out. I really like her."

Wells looked over her shoulder toward the entrance and smiled. "Seems like she really likes you too."

Clarke turned around and saw that Lexa had parked her car and was just crossing the street toward the café.

"Are you coming in tomorrow?" He asked her.

Clarke whipped around, her cheeks flushed. "What? Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

"Dunno, you tell me." He laughed as he checked for his keys in his pocket. "Gaia and Harper have the early shift, in case you forgot. We just have those three interviews in the afternoon, but you already know that."

"I do know," she replied with a frown. "There's no reason I wouldn't be here earlier. I'm always here. What are you saying?"

He shrugged, entirely too proud of himself, and walked toward the back exit. "No one will fault you if you take a break. Enjoy your date!"

"I will! And I'll see you in the morning!" Clarke replied stubbornly.

"I'm sure you will!" he retorted, still snickering, before closing the door behind him.

A hand touched Clarke's shoulder and she startled.

"Sorry," Lexa said with a gentle smile. She'd put on her black coat today, the top buttons undone to reveal her sweater - a reddish brown this time, perfect for the fall. Her hair was down and her eyeliner perhaps more pronounced than usual. Clarke wondered if she'd applied it in her car. She looked beautiful.

"Hi, baby," she softened, forgetting all about Well's teasing. He didn't know what he was talking about. Tonight was just going to be a nice date. Some food, wine - whatever Lexa had planned. They were still going slow. Clarke didn't have any expectations other than enjoying their time together. She liked their pace. It was… frustrating at times, sure, but it was working. They had both opened up to each other.

"Hi," Lexa whispered before she inched forward so that she could kiss her over the counter. Clarke sighed into it, having imagined such sweetness all day long.

"Am I too early?" Lexa asked. "Do you need help cleaning up?"

Clarke brushed her thumb over Lexa's jaw. "No, I'm done. I just need to grab my coat and close up."

"Was that Wells who went out back?"

"Yes, he was being ridiculous."

"I thought he usually left earlier?"

"He does, but he's been rearranging the kitchen. I think he's worried Gustus will find it too small."

"Gus has an entire farm and acres of land at his disposal, but he sleeps in his shed because it's warm," Lexa said. "He won't mind."

Clarke beamed, delighted to hear it. "I'm going to give you Wells' number and you're going to text him just that. "

While Clarke left to grab her coat, Lexa worried her lip. "Oh but he doesn't really know me…"

"He will."

Clarke came out from the back with her coat and scarf on. She pulled out her set of keys. "He's my best friend and you're my-" she stopped herself. "I think you'd get along great. He loves theater, devours literature, and he already thinks you're amazing for taking Finn down. So don't worry about it."

"Well, that reminds me: Collins went ahead with suing the Gazette."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

They made their way to the front, where Lexa opened the door for Clarke. "No. It'll never stand, but he aims to waste our time and money."

"Waste of time and money - that's been his motto since birth."

Lexa wrinkled her nose. "Let's talk about something else."

"Please. So where's my carriage?"

Lexa laughed.

* * *

Lexa may not have found a pumpkin to turn into a carriage after all, but her car smelled like apples and she drove so smoothly Clarke could've closed her eyes and imagined they weren't moving at all. She had never thought 'great driver' would do it for her, but here she was eyeing Lexa's hands on the steering wheel and feeling hot.

"How's the writing going?" Clarke asked, clearing her throat when her voice started off slightly rough.

Lexa took a left, which would've surprised Clarke if she'd paid any attention to the road. But all she could think about was Lexa's razor-sharp focus and how she yearned to be the reason for it.

"Good, I finished a first draft. My writing partner is looking at it for now. I need it out of my sight for a few days."

"Partner, huh?"

Lexa smiled as she kept her eyes on the road. "Echo. She wrote most of the FC&B article."

"Did you write for other newspapers before?"

Lexa nodded. "Two. I've been lucky, professionally. Smaller papers have always been more interesting to me, so I stayed away from national ones. I was able to climb the ladder a lot faster than some of my old classmates."

"The Gazette must've been a change of pace. New city, new job - I don't think I could handle it."

"When they hired me I was so happy to be working I just threw myself into it," Lexa admitted. "I got the idea on the Mountain Men soon after, just from reading old archives about them. That kept me busy, so I didn't have time to worry about fitting in. It was nice. Exciting. It felt like falling in love with my job again. Then one day Echo invited me to grab drinks with other colleagues and… I realized things had fallen into place already."

"Costial is pretty magical like that," Clarke said with a smile. She loved it when Lexa talked about her time here. Sometimes it was easy to forget she hadn't even been here a year yet. Clarke remembered her first year in the city - how she'd felt like she'd always belonged here. How she couldn't wait to build her life here. And college had been fun, and sometimes she walked by the campus just for the nostalgia of it, but it was the years after that had really shaped her life into what it was today. There had been many tears and failures before the café, but she'd never once thought of leaving. She hoped Lexa felt the same.

One glance outside the window and Clarke finally had an idea where they were headed. They were quite far from the center of the city now, just a few miles away from Busy Moose Park and its lake on the outskirts. Lexa took the road that led to the park, but she didn't make the turn Clarke had expected and instead continued straight.

"Are we going to the factory?" Clarke asked.

The chocolate factory and its surroundings were certainly a sight to behold, and popular with teens because of its smells and aesthetic quality, but there wasn't much to do unless you brought a picnic. Which was unlikely to be comfortable anyway in this cold.

"Not quite," Lexa answered with a secretive smile.

A few minutes later she finally pulled over into a small parking lot, checking for Clarke's reaction as soon as they got out of the car.

“I know I said I’d take you somewhere more upscale, but I thought you might really like this place."

Because the factory was just a ways down the road and it was windy tonight, the bold smell of chocolate permeated the air. They had stopped in front of a rustic restaurant surrounded by a garden. Small lights glowed softly against the brick walls, complimented by the dancing shadows from a few lanterns. There was a patio with beams covered in twining vines, the plants and wisteria also covering the top like a ceiling. Powerful heaters kept the biting cold at bay, no doubt, making the entire place look like a winter fairytale.

It was the kind of romantic setting Clarke would have made fun of in front of friends while secretly hoping to experience it one day.

“How the hell have I never been here before?” She asked in astonishment.

With a hand on her back, Lexa led her toward the entrance.

“Did you know Icicle? Italian restaurant?”

“Yeah, that rings a bell.”

“This is it. The owner retired and her son took over - revamped the whole place from top to bottom and gave it a mountain lodge theme. He figured they should capitalize on the location more, especially the constant sweetness in the air. It just reopened a few weeks ago. Featured in the Gazette and everything.”

“Oh, that might’ve been when I was a bit angry at you," Clarke remembered and gave Lexa a teasing grin. "Deleted the app like it was some kind of statement."

Lexa scrunched up her nose, not too eager to remember that time. The hostess seated them inside at a secluded table for two. The light was dimmed and there was a candle between them; and even two squares of chocolate wrapped in gold foil.

After they took off their coats and sat, Lexa bit her lip. “It's not too much, is it?"

"Are you kidding? It's gorgeous." Clarke reached for her hand. "You're always surprising me."

A waiter gave them a menu and a basket of bread. They looked like mini baguettes and Clarke was temped to steal one for Wells.

“God, I almost forgot about this smell," she said, taking a deep breath. The chocolate from the factory still wafted faintly in the air, and mixed with the smell of food it had Clarke already salivating for dinner. "In college we used to hang out by the lake a lot. If the wind was on our side we’d always get a whiff from the factory. Not even edibles could beat that.”

Lexa arched a brow. “Edibles, huh?”

“Please, I know you’ve dabbled," Clarke scoffed.

“What makes you think that?”

“You have the vibe.”

“The pothead vibe? I thought I was unreadable.”

“Oh you have that vibe too," Clarke laughed. "But then there’s the tattoos, the plants, the way you write about nature. You’re curious, open minded, andyou went to a liberal arts college. You must’ve tried it at least once. I think that’s how you approach most things: don’t knock ‘till you try it. Am I close?”

Lexa looked away, slightly flummoxed. “It sounds like I’m more of an open book then.”

"Maybe that's a good thing…" Clarke offered with a hopeful smile, thumb caressing the back of her hand.

"Maybe it is," Lexa agreed.

They both picked the apricot glazed chicken with roasted potatoes, pairing it with a white wine. Throughout dinner Clarke felt such pleasant warmth, both because of the wine and Lexa's steady gaze on her. She was relaxed and unfairly charming; a great listener by all accounts, but also coming out of her shell when it came to her own past. Clarke knew it wasn't easy for her, which made it all the more special.

"In retrospect I should've figured politics weren’t for me when I started screaming at my television every time the news came on."

Clarke grinned, knowing the sentiment all too well. "Good thing you don't work for a newspaper or anything…"

Swallowing the last of her wine, Lexa gave her a playful smirk. "Local news. I can take the city hall drama. I actually enjoy it with my morning pastry."

"That I can believe. You always look so deep in thought when you read. Harper dropped a cup once and you didn't even flinch."

"Really?" Lexa asked. "Is there anything else I do that I should know about?"

The waiter stopped by with their desserts: molten chocolate cake for Lexa and a slice of pear tart for Clarke.

"It's not like I stare or anything," Clarke clarified as she grabbed her spoon. "Your seat just happens to be in my vicinity."

"Mm." Lexa smirked. "I guess I just pop up sometimes…" she trailed off, her tone heavy with implication.

She did this occasionally, but more boldly recently. Alluding to Clarke's vision seemed to greatly entertain Lexa.

"Ha, you're funny," Clarke deadpanned.

"Did I also crack jokes while I was kissing you - and I quote - everywhere?" Lexa goaded.

Clarke shrugged as she chewed on her tart. "Actually you were a lot more suave than you are now. Pity."

Lexa laughed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Please, you're very proud of yourself. And it's not fair all I have to go on is your distaste for coffee." Clarke remembered how frantic she had been after her vision, her mind firing questions every second. “Did you know I went to a vision reader right after?”

It had been an impulse and she'd regretted it, but she figured Lexa was familiar with them.

"Really?" Lexa asked, surprised.

“Yeah, the one by the market. Becca’s Reading or something. I bailed at the last minute.”

“I actually haven’t spoken to one. I was toying with the idea, but it might be an entirely different article.”

Clarke grimaced. “They’re just opportunistic money grabbers.”

Lexa offered a spoonful of her cake, which Clarke took before plopping a bit of pear on top of it. The warm chocolate melted the pear in her mouth and she sighed at the taste. Lexa smiled.

“It’s a different point of view. Besides, listening to so many stories might’ve given them some valuable insight even if they opened a shop for the wrong reasons. If my job’s taught me anything it’s to not judge a book by its cover.”

"Hmm you're good at it - your job. And I'm not just saying that because you're wining and dining me."

Lexa looked bashful. "You know, I remember when you yelled at me to get over myself."

"Not our finest moment…"

"No," Lexa agreed. "But it was needed. Before that there was so much I wanted to tell you, but… couldn't."

"I know." Clarke remembered that feeling as well. After the vision she'd look at Lexa and be so certain there was so much left unsaid between them, yet neither of them knew where to start, or if it was reciprocated. "I should've let you interview me - just ripped off the Band-Aid. It would've explained a lot."

"I would've never made it past the first question," Lexa said. "Can you share what you saw, Clarke?"

Clarke smiled cheekily around a mouthful of her tart. "Well, I would hope that kind of confession would score me a date at least."

"Oh I would have asked you out on the spot," Lexa replied with a smirk.

Clarke gasped. "How very unprofessional of you."

"If you hadn't noticed, my professionalism hangs by a thread whenever I'm near you."

Clarke let out a small laugh. "Well, that's one thing I'm glad for."

* * *

After their dinner, Lexa suggested they walk in the park before it closed. It was cold but their coats were thick and the wind was minimal. Clarke had no desire to part just yet, and so took Lexa's hand in hers as soon as they left the car by the park's entrance.

They had a little less than thirty minutes before it closed, but enjoyed every second as they strolled by the lake. The half-moon was reflected on the quiet surface, and though there were a few other people, Clarke felt like they had just stepped into a world of their own.

Clarke nudged Lexa toward one of the Beech trees, its autumn leaves still clinging bravely to its thick branches. They settled beneath it, lying down on the soft ground where leaves piled atop the grass. Between the branches they could see some stars, and Clarke wondered if maybe the park could close and leave them be. There was nowhere else she wanted to be.

She heard some rustling and then saw Lexa look down at her, her face framed by her wavy hair and the stars above. She took Clarke's breath away.

"You're so beautiful," Lexa murmured, struck by a similar thought it seemed. "You have the kindest eyes and the warmest smile. It's the first thing I ever noticed about you."

Clarke reached up to kiss her, parting only when she felt Lexa's hand on her stomach. Even atop her coat and thick clothing, she could feel its warmth.

"I think you're drunk on wine and chocolate."

"Then you'll be relived to hear I'm a very sincere drunk."

Clarke giggled, which made Lexa's smile stretch in such a fond way. She pressed closer to her, the tip of her nose brushing against her neck. She kissed the small spot, as if to apologize for her cold nose.

"I wonder so much about you, Clarke."

Clarke hummed. "What do you wonder about?"

“I’ve spoken with a lot of people. Heard the visions about reuniting with loved ones, getting over addictions, graduating. There’s been some romance of course,” Lexa said. “Aden’s first kiss, though he couldn’t see his boyfriend’s face. Echo celebrating a wedding anniversary with her husband. But so few - even online in anonymous circles - so few like yours.”

Now Clarke felt warm again, mostly from the blush on her cheeks. “I don’t believe that.”

Lexa lifted her head from her shoulder. “Have you personally heard of any?”

“Raven saw Wells naked.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Okay, so I'm a pervert, what can I say?”

“No,” Lexa replied, tickled by Clarke's little huff. “You’re a mystery. You intrigue me.”

Clarke cleared her throat. “Well I’ve had a bit of a dry spell. I had flings, but… I didn't allow myself anything more. The café was taking up all my thoughts and for a while it worked for me. Then the days got long again, and lonelier… Raven said it was probably just my body wanting me to snap out of it.”

“And what do you think?”

Clarke did wonder about it then, or at least differently than she had in the past. It wasn't so long ago she'd asked these questions herself. She'd been so frustrated she couldn't discuss them with the person she'd shared it with, and here she was, lying right next to her in a bed of leaves.

She touched Lexa's hand on her stomach, lacing and unlacing their fingers, gently playing with them as she tried to make sense of everything.

“Have you never fantasized about a stranger?" She asked quietly, catching Lexa's eyes. "Someone who knows nothing about you and yet knows exactly how to make your body soar?"

“That’s not what you saw though, is it?” Lexa murmured. “I wasn’t a stranger in your bed. I knew you and you knew me."

Clarke felt her heart beat faster. She wanted so badly to kiss Lexa again; to feel her body against hers like the night on her couch.

"Lex…"

Their lips were just a hair's breadth apart now. To anyone else, they would've looked like they were kissing.

"How was it different, Clarke?"

Clarke swallowed, trying to find the words. “How? The way you handled me - needy and possessive, but tender and attentive too. Like you were in charge of my pleasure and you had to remind me."

She saw Lexa swallow and so continued, eager to share everything this time: "You said my name and it almost sounded like a prayer - like you couldn’t believe we were together. I never heard my name like that before. I never thought I could make someone feel lucky."

"God, Clarke, you have no idea." Lexa exhaled before closing the gap and kissing her. It wasn't like any other kiss they'd shared tonight. It felt like a promise, almost. Lexa tasted so sweet on her tongue and Clarke could only wonder if all of her was just as heavenly.

She cupped the back of her neck and felt herself throb with desire, her mind filled with both the reality of Lexa and the last of her vision.

"I can even remember the smell of us," Clarke sighed between kisses. "How sticky my skin felt, like we'd been in bed for hours."

"Clarke - fuck."

Clarke pushed Lexa on her back and cupped her cheeks, claiming her lips quite quickly again. She licked into her mouth and moaned at the silky feel of Lexa's tongue.

"Sometimes I'd try to picture us again but you'd disappear," Clarke continued, eyes closing when Lexa started kissing down her neck. "I wasn't sure if it was you anymore. But then you'd come back. I'd feel your hands, your mouth on me… lower, and lower…"

Lexa let out a groan and pinched the bridge of her nose before falling back on the ground, the leaves rustling beneath her. Something in the way she set her jaw made Clarke frown.

"Baby…" she said, tracing a finger over her cheekbone.

"Did you call her that?" Lexa asked without thinking.

Clarke retracted her hand and paused. A grin spread on her face. “What? Are you jealous… of yourself?”

Lexa glared petulantly. “No.”

“You are."

Lexa remained quiet, so after a moment Clarke poked her arm. “Well what about yours?”

"Mine?"

"I wasn't even in it - how do you think that makes me feel?"

Lexa shook her head. "You were in it."

"You said you were just standing in a random kitchen making coffee."

"Yes."

"So?"

They heard the echo of a bicycle's bell on the pathway and turned to the sound, but the couple soon rode away. Clarke looked at Lexa again, finding her staring at the sky.

“What are you keeping from me?”

A small smile grew on Lexa's face - but she remained tightlipped.

"How was I there?" Clarke asked again, deeply curious.

"The doodles," Lexa simply replied.

Clarke remembered that she'd found that to be a strange detail before. She didn't put up her doodles on walls and she didn't frame them. These had to be important. Something that made her identity unmistakable in Lexa's eyes. Sure it could be that her style was recognizable, but Lexa made it sound as if it was something else.

“Lex…"

She lifted Lexa's chin to catch her gaze.

“If I tell you, I worry it might not happen," Lexa admitted.

Clarke bit her lip, finally understanding. It was almost like saying a wish out loud - fearing it might not come true if you broke that single rule.

“You want it to happen?” She asked instead.

A breeze passed as Lexa looked at her intently, leaving no room for doubt. “Yes.”

There was no waver in her voice. Not even an ounce of hesitation. The sheer confidence set Clarke alight. She’d forgotten how it felt to feel so wanted. Whatever it was in that frame… Lexa clearly hoped for it in their future. The fact that she wanted it with her, and no one else, made her desire swell.

She leaned down and kissed her right against the grass and by the slumbering tree, forgetting all about the doodles. Lexa believed it was her - that was all that mattered. After weeks of being unsure of where they stood, if her feelings were even shared, she didn't need anything more.

Lexa wound her arm around her waist, her mouth still as hungry against Clarke's. When they pulled away, she pressed their foreheads together.

“I wish I could see us like you did," she murmured wistfully.

"What would it change?"

“Maybe… maybe if I knew I was good enough for you… If I was sure that I wouldn’t- that I wouldn’t hurt you-"

Clarke shook her head. "Don’t fill your head with thoughts like that. Let's just be here, together, and worry about the rest when it comes. I know it's hard for you, but this - us - right now… it's good, isn't it?"

Lexa nodded. "It's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

Relieved, Clarke tucked her head beneath Lexa's chin. "Then just be with me. You can be happy, baby. You have a right to it. Don't let anyone or anything tell you otherwise."

Eventually they made their way back to Lexa's car, neither of them interested in picking up their leisurely pace.

"I'm sorry we ended up walking so much," Lexa said.

"You fed me beforehand, so it's forgiven."

Lexa smiled. "Good to know."

Before they reached the parking lot, Clarke decided to ask what had been on her mind: "I know you said Costial feels like home to you; that you found your place here, but… do you see your future here? Because this is it for me. And I'm… I like you, Lex. I like you a lot. I don't want to be an interlude. I don't think I could take it."

"Clarke," Lexa stepped closer to her. "You're not an interlude, you're - God, you've been in every act of my life here. I don't want to go anywhere. I- I want to be with you. That's what I know for certain. Is that alright for now?"

"It is."

Lexa kissed her softly and then smirked. "I may not have had erotic visions of myself entwined with a hot local, but I still want to stay here."

Clarke shoved her playfully. "I don't even like you anymore."

They laughed the whole way to the car.

* * *

It seemed like a tradition already; Lexa walking her to her door while Clarke racked her mind for a way to linger. When they finally arrived she leaned against her door and sighed.

"Tonight was amazing."

Lexa hummed. "I'm glad."

"I'm definitely taking you out this weekend," Clarke said.

"You are?" Lexa asked, tilting her head to kiss her again.

Clarke closed the gap as she wrapped her arms around her neck. The kiss was slow; amatory, but as always it could not go on for too long before hands wandered.

"I hope you have sweet dreams," Lexa said, her eyes hooded and her lips slightly redder.

"Oh I will."

Lexa glanced at her mouth. "If I pay you a visit again maybe you could keep a journal close by. I'd love some notes on my performance."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Remind me why I ever told you?"

"What? That we lasted hours?" Lexa husked.

Right. Clarke narrowed her eyes and let her hands slowly drag down Lexa's arms. Now, Clarke wasn't innocent. She knew fully what made her look good, even when her coat was buttoned up. She had let Lexa tease her and goad her about the vision all night, and she had kept her retort to herself. But no more.

She pressed her body closer to Lexa's, unmistakably provocative with the way their breasts touched.

“Make fun all you want, Lexa, but remember this: I’ve seen all of you while you haven’t seen an inch of me.” She felt Lexa’s hand tighten on her waist. “I’ve felt your body against mine. Your mouth on my thighs. I’ve felt your tongue inside me.” She glanced down at Lexa's lips and then back up, proud of the gobsmacked look on her face. “So you can tease me. You can push my buttons. I can take it. But you? You only have your imagination." She stepped back and gave her sultriest smile, "And trust me, it’s got nothing on reality.”

She turned around and quickly unlocked her door, then looked over her shoulder. "Thanks for the date, baby."

As soon as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, Clarke knew she'd just played a dirty hand. But Lexa had teased her at all night and all was fair in lust.

With a wicked grin, too pleased by the night's events, Clarke took off her coat and slipped out of her shoes and socks. And because she just couldn't resist one last look, she walked to her window and waited. Finally she saw Lexa walk out of the building. She seemed unfocused, going right and then left, forgetting where she'd parked.

But then she stopped and turned around.

Clarke's smile fell. Just watching Lexa like this, seeing the effect she had on her… it changed something. She had closed the door in the spur of the moment - because they were good at testing each other. Because she had thought tonight should end there, on another game of theirs.

But she didn’t want to play anymore.

And maybe Lexa realized it too. She looked up and found her apartment's window.

Their eyes met.

Clarke reached out for the curtain, gripping it so tight her knuckles went white. She couldn't look away from those eyes in the moonlight if she tried. Even if the ground started shaking beneath their feet.

"Lexa-" she started before stopping herself. It had to be Lexa's decision. Clarke had already made hers. She couldn't call out to her. Not for this. Lexa had to choose.

Clarke held her breath, unsure she'd even be able to leave this spot if Lexa did walk away after all. Until-

Lexa bolted back toward the building.

Clarke watched her disappear from view and then heard her intercom. She rushed toward it and pressed the buzzer, her heart in her throat. Still barefoot, she pulled the door open and waited. Footsteps thundered up the flights of stairs, closer and closer.

Tonight had not ended. Not yet.

#clarke x lexa #clexa #clexa fic #f: a bit of clarity #w

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bellylivesthepoguelife · 3 years

Text

unwell. John B x Sarah

Request: "You can barely hold yourself up! Just go back to bed--please?" From the prompt list with Sarah Cameron and John B??

Word Count: 1.3 K

Sarah Cameron wasn't usually the first one awake on any given morning. Except for this one. When the mid morning sun began the shine through the blinds of John B's bedroom, the brightness in the room reached it's peak. Being on the east side of the house had it's pros: lazy mornings laying in the warmth of the sunshine before having to get up for the day. It also had it's cons: waking you up earlier than you wanted to be when you didn't go to sleep until 2am the night before. The aforementioned "you" being one Sarah Cameron in this situation.

Sarah stretched as she rolled over toward the night stand closest to the side of the bed that she had claimed when sleepovers at the Chateau first became a regular occurrence. Since then, she had taken over the nightstand as well, decorating it with a lamp, phone charger, and 4x6 framed photo someone had snapped the previous summer of her and John B laughing against the dock. A glance at her charged phone showed the time as 9:58am. Not ridiculously early, but early enough to cause her to wish she could fall back asleep.

She flopped back down on the bed, probably a bit more dramatically than was necessary, but the warm call of the blankets was a bit too loud. After settling in for a moment, she opened her eyes to check and see where her permanent cuddle buddy had wandered off to. It wasn't uncommon for the two of them to drift apart in the night, but Sarah didn't mind because whenever they would wake up, the search for his body made finding it and cuddling in that much sweeter.

So when he wasn't in the bed, or the adjoining bathroom, she couldn't help but furrow her eyebrows together. Deciding to venture out into the main part of the house, she slipped out of her pajamas and into another set of althleisure wear to search out where her boyfriend may have disappeared to. It didn't take long to find him as she walked down the hall into the living room, because he was sat on the couch watching what looked like some crime drama rerun on the TV.

"Morning." John B greeted when he noticed her presence in the room, before turning his attention back to the TV.

"Morning." Sarah replied, moving to sit next to him on the couch. She noticed his voice sounded a little thicker than usual.

After watching the court room drama play out for a few moments, she decided to address it. "Are you feeling alright? Your voice sounds a little scratchy."

"Yeah," he assured her, clearing his throat. "Just a little sore throat this morning."

"Would you like some coffee or tea?" Something warm was always her remedy for anytime either of them didn't feel well.

"Coffee would be nice."

"One cup of coffee coming up!" She leaned in to kiss him before making her way through the dining room and disappearing from view into the kitchen.

"Oh!" Sarah was startled to find JJ sitting on one of the counter tops next to the sink, eating a bagel. "Hey JJ. You startled me."

"Princess." He greeted.

Sarah rolled her eyes like she always did whenever he called her the nickname. Which was almost a daily occurrence now. "When are you going to stop with the 'Princess' bullshit, JJ."

He gave a non committed shrug. "When you stop being one I guess."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, knowing that there was no bite to his words after a few years of friendship between them.

JJ watched her move to the coffee maker to begin making a pot. As she was scooping the coffee grounds into the filter, he lowered his voice and asked, "He tell you he had a fever?"

The tablespoon hesitated mid scoop. "No," warily, she finished scooping the grounds. "Did he tell you?"

A corner of JJ's mouth lifted into a smirk. "You know the answer to that." He jumped off the counter, and came to lean on the other side of the coffee maker, so their conversation wouldn't be overheard through the open floor plan and thin walls of the Chateau. "No, I was getting some water when he had the thermometer out." He paused for a moment to put the coffee away as she pushed the button to brew. "Idiot just left it, didn't even take it with him to make sure I didn't see." Another pause as he resumed his position of leaning against the counter. "Rookie mistake."

"Okay, and?" Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, and faced JJ. "What did it say."

"101.4"

Sarah's eyebrows raised in a bit of shock. "Interesting."

JJ knocked a hand against the counter before pushing off. "Just thought you should know."

"Thanks J."

He shot a salute at her as he grabbed his water bottle and walked out of the kitchen.

When the coffee finished brewing, she made two cups. One with milk and 3 spoonfuls of sugar (for her) and one with milk and 1 spoonful of sugar (for John B). She brought the steaming mugs into the living room, and handed one to her boyfriend before retaking her previous spot next to him on the couch.

John B instantly set his on the coffee table, claiming that it "had to cool". There was a comfortable silence as Sarah sipped her coffee, and the two attempted to follow the story line of the show on the TV.

Before long, Sarah felt the weight of his head rest against her shoulder. She leaned her head to rest on his, and would have to be frozen solid to miss the heat radiating off of him. But she continued sipping her coffee, wondering when (and if) he would tell her. When after a few moments, he didn't, she spoke to him. "Are you going to admit that you don't feel well, now?"

She felt his head move to look at her. "What are you talking about?" He accused.

She rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see her. "John B, I know you're sick. I know you have a fever, and I know you want to go lay down."

"No I don't." He immediately defended. John B had always tried to show his strength by not admitting that he needed help, or that he was in any way "inferior". Thankfully for Sarah, she knew him well enough by this point in their relationship that he couldn't hide things as easily from her anymore. (Or in this case, from her and JJ.)

"John B." She turned to face him, forcing him to lift his head off of her shoulder. Though he attempted to rest it against his hand instead, he couldn't hold his arm up, so he ended up with his elbows on his knees to support his head. "John B, you can barely hold yourself up!" She gestured to his current position. "Can you just admit that you don't feel well so we can crawl back into bed, please."

He shook his head in reply.

"Why are you men so. Fucking. Stubborn." Exasperated didn't even begin to cover Sarah's current feelings.

"Denial," was his honest answer.

"Will you just go back to bed?" It was meant to be a question, but came out as a sharp demand. After realizing how she sounded, she amended with, "please?"

A simple "no" was his response.

She looked away from him. "Unbelievable." She muttered to herself, contemplating whether or not to get JJ involved.

Deciding against it, she disappeared for a few moments, returning with at least three blankets, two pillows, and the stuffed bear he's had since he was 6. Coming to stand next to the couch, she demanded. "Make room."

His eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Shut up." She responded to his silent inquiry. "I'm picking my battles today, so we're cuddling here since you want to be stubborn."

"You sound awfully upset for getting a whole day of cuddles." Even when not feeling well, he knew how to get a rise out of her.

""'If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.'"

"You know this still means I'm not sick though, right?"

The only response he got was an eye roll and a middle finger.

#John B x Sarah #john b routledge #sarah cameron #john b x sarah cameron #writing requests #belly writes #belly writes requests #obx writing #outer banks writings #john b x sarah writings #sick john b

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crystaljins · 4 years

Text

River lead me home | 01

Characters: Seokjin x Reader

Word count: 9.2k

Synopsis: Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Notes: You guys are gonna laugh... I tried to upload this yesterday but it screwed up and only the title got posted! Naturally I deleted the post and didn’t get a chance to fix everything up, but it’s finally here! My monster of a fic !!!! Updates will be weekly. Honestly this fic took a lot to write, and it’s been 8 whole months of working on it!!! So I hope you guys enjoy it T.T If not I won’t be made though LOL (edit: @blue1928 forgot to tag u soz)

p.s. I AM working on the HP prompts I’m just really busy this next couple of weeks LOL

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

You’ve never really been particularly fearful of getting in trouble with your mother. She has always been a sweet and timid lady, the kind who would let her daughter get away with murder. And you are an adult, even if you don’t act like it, and so it’s not like your mother can do anything other than express her disappointment with your actions.

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand, can have you quaking in your shoes with just a look. He was your nextdoor neighbour growing up, even before you all fled your home realm. He has since moved out of his parents’ home into his own apartment to pursue his dream as a doctor (and to take home as many lady friends as he likes without his parents’ knowledge), but he is still very much a stern presence in your life, even as one of your closest friends. He likely feels responsible for you, since though the two of you were young when you were driven into the human world, he is three years older. He did once refer to you as something like an untrained puppy, which you guess is very reflective of how he views you. The result of such feelings of responsibility is him trying his best to fulfill all the duties of being your legal guardian despite having no obligation to do so. The effect is him being terrifyingly stern with you, despite him being a calm, good-humoured guy with everyone else he meets.

Which is why, when you wake up in a hospital bed with your leg wrapped in a cast, you know that today is the day Kim Seokjin kills you. If the job interview that you completely messed up isn’t enough motive for him to seek you out, then the fact that you tried to stop a purse snatcher and ended up breaking your leg in the ensuing scuffle after said thief’s motorcycle fell on you most certainly is.

In your defence, it wasn’t like you could just leave them be! Yes, you had not been back to your home realm once in the thirteen years since you and every other guardian were driven out, but at your core, you like to think you are still a Guardian. And so, as is custom, you cannot turn down a plea for help. And the young woman screaming in distress as a man on a motorcycle drove past and snatched her purse straight off her shoulder had certainly sounded like a plea for help! Really, Jin should be impressed, because the ensuing chase was something straight out of a movie, what with you in hot pursuit on your own bike (the one both your mother and Jin do not know you own). And you totally would have gotten the purse back if it wasn’t for the slight motorcycle crash. You’re not exactly sure what you hit since the events are a little blurry, but whatever it was, it ended up knocking you out and breaking your leg.

A slight commotion breaks out at the entrance to the room and by the way onlookers swoon, you know that your time on earth is up. For the only person that can stir such a reaction upon entering a room is Kim Seokjin himself. Guardians naturally fit most of the qualifiers of what humans consider attractive, but even by Guardian standards, Jin is ridiculously handsome. Even though you find him boring and the biggest nag to walk the planet, not even you are immune to his disarming good looks. You could probably sense his aura blindfolded and your eyes are always drawn to him in a crowd and so you easily pinpoint him amongst the crowd of onlookers before he spots you. Today is his day off and so he does not wear his usual doctor’s gown. Instead a well fitted button up shirt and trousers highlights the broadness of his shoulders and the elegance of his figure as he strolls through the room as if he owns it. You recognise the style- that particular combination of button up and trousers are his date clothes. Your heart plummets when you recognise the outfit. Jin will be extra irritated about having to check on you in the hospital on his day off. Why did the paramedics have to take you here of all places? You’ve really signed your life away this time.

He pauses to smile at a nurse who passes by and she is immediately dazzled. Though he is no doubt furious with you, and is frequently irritated by your shenanigans, to the rest of the world he is charming and funny and good-tempered. You watch the exchange with curiosity- the nurse laughs at something Jin says and there’s a faint flush to her cheeks. You will probably never have such an exchange with Jin- even if he relaxed enough to make a joke in your presence, it would probably be at your expense. Jin’s taste in women is very obvious- he likes women that match him in beauty, ones that are fantastic at making you feel like a potato in comparison despite your guardian heritage, however unintentionally. Something in you twinges at the thought- you wouldn’t mind having a normal relationship with Jin. One where he smiles at you and makes jokes and actually enjoys your presence. But he’ll probably never view you like that- he’s made it very clear throughout your friendship what you are to him.

The nurse points in your direction and takes Jin’s distraction as an opportunity to trail her gaze appreciatively over his figure, settling on his profile. She must be new to the hospital if this is the first time that she is experiencing what Jin’s coworkers at the hospital describe as the “Jin effect”. Any humans (and most guardians for that matter) who meet him instantly succumb to his charisma and absurdly handsome face and find themselves desperately in love. This nurse is no exception and you decide to utilise the momentary distraction she has provided Jin when she attempts to get his number by attempting to slide off your bed and scurry away.

A tug at the back of your collar has you stiffening. If this were a movie, there would be an uneasy swell of high-tension violin as you turn your head to find Jin has grabbed the back of your shirt to stop your slow escape. He must have utilised a spot of enhanced guardian speed to be able to cross the room so quickly. The violins in your head begin to screech in terror. Jin merely smiles and it is eerily charming. His cheeks puff out and his lips curl in a way that would dazzle the average onlooker but you see the lethal intent in his eyes. You barely manage to hold back a fearful shudder.

“Nurse Jo!” He calls, and his tone is playful and sweet which contrasts directly with the venom in his dark pupils. In their depths you can foresee your death. “It seems one of our patients is trying to escape.” His tone darkens and drops on the last word and you flinch, preparing for the end.

Only it never comes, and you find Jin hoisting you up by the back of your shirt and with the help of security rushing forward they wrangle you back into bed. They do well- the average human doesn’t stand much chance against the superior strength of a guardian, and you are currently fighting for your life. But with Jin in the mix, they have you strapped to your bed in no time, forced to listen to whatever longwinded and painful lecture Jin has prepared for you

He stands at your bedside, arms folded across his chest. You mentally write your will in your mind- Taehyung can have your Nintendo switch and his girlfriend can go through your clothes and take any that she likes. Your mother gets anything worth more than $20 in your bedroom (though she might be searching for a while to find such an item, if it even exists) and Seokjin can get custody of your evil cat. Maybe it’ll scratch his stupidly handsome face up and you can get revenge from beyond the grave.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Jin asks, and his voice is surprisingly calm. You look away, scratching at where the cast on your leg rubs at the skin of your shin. It’s stupid to wear the cast since with your enhanced healing abilities the break will be better by tomorrow, but the doctors of this world do not know that.

You are not fooled by the almost friendly, interested tone to his voice- there is anger bubbling behind the mask of polite curiosity. Likely he is holding back to full force of his fury because this is his workplace.

“Well, I’d like to preface by saying I had no choice. Was I supposed to just let the robber go?” You say. You were attempting to placate him before elaborating on the full story, but it appears to have the opposite effect. Jin’s eyes bulge out of his head and his face goes that interesting shade of red that only appears when he’s very, very angry.

“Robber? You took on a robber?” He says slowly, and you can tell it takes a few moments for the words to process. But gradually, the veins in his neck bulge and his eyes gradually widen and you wince as Jin erupts into what you like to call his “jants- Jin Rants.”. “Ya! Are you crazy? What were you thinking? What if you had been killed? I would have had to tell Auntie and then I would have had to organise your funeral because she would be inconsolable! If I even survived my parents trying to kill me for letting you die at the hands of a ROBBER of all people!” The impressive thing about a jant is the speed at which it is spat out. You are sure that professional rappers have nothing on the way Jin can spill out verses in a rage. He shoves a hand through his hair in distress and the ensuing messy look it generates is unfairly attractive- you think you see a middle-aged woman swoon in the hospital bed across from yours. Or faint. It’s hard to tell in a hospital. He continues screeching. “And then they’d PROBABLY make me MOVE BACK HOME as PUNISHMENT and there goes my social life! You could have ruined MY WHOLE LIFE, (Y/N)! What is wrong with you? Why do you always go making trouble like this?” It is those words, out of his whole rant, oddly enough, that causes you to stiffen. The implication that all you do is cause trouble. Which in a way you suppose you do. You cause your mother unnecessary worry- Jin is constantly sacrificing things to take care of you. Even your friends are constantly having to shout you meals due to your perpetual state of unemployment.

“I... couldn’t just leave it- they needed help, Jin.” You admit softly. Jin somehow hears your quiet admission over his furious jant and falls silent. He stares at you in confusion for a long moment, like he was expecting more of a fight, or some sort of annoying comeback. But the confusion is enough to subside his rage. The jant is over, with minimal damage. He drags over a chair and slumps by your bedside, once more running a hand through his hair.

“You’re so reckless. Robber’s rarely pull stunts like that unarmed! You may have enhanced healing compared to a human, but you still die if someone stabs you! And this is your third ER trip this month!” He scolds and his tone is far gentler than before- not unlike how one might speak to a child, rather than someone a mere three years younger than him. You meekly bow your head, chastised. “How do you think auntie would feel if anything happened to you, (Y/N)? You may be a Guardian, but Guardians aren’t invincible. You, of all people, should know that.”

You flinch, feeling as though he’s slapped you. He’s clearly furious with you if he’s willing to choose such a sore spot to shame you. For the thirteen years you have been in the human realm, it has just been you and your mother. You have not been able to forget that fact for a single day. Every day you awaken afresh with the reminder that there is a third member to your family who should be there but is not. Your father’s life was lost as you all fled, and your mother had found herself widowed with a headstrong young child in a foreign and unfamiliar realm. Jin’s family have always been around to help because you haven’t exactly been an easy child to raise, but there are some burdens that no one can lift from a single parent.

And you love your mother, and you really would do anything for your her. It’s just... you don’t want to pretend that you’re a human. For your entire time here, your guise as a human has felt like an itchy, poorly fitted jacket that you want to peel off and throw away. Humans are selfish and lazy and would leave a child on the side of the road and they’d been very quick to notice that you were different and target you for it- these are all things your father hated. To be human is to spit on the sacrifice he made for you... and yet to continue to fight it is also disregarding that he gave up his life to let you live in comfort.

Jin, with his handsome face and ability to charm anyone he meets instantly, has never had an issue settling into the human realm, and so he’s never really understood why you cling so much to your former home realm. He knows that you’ve never truly stopped grieving the life of your father, but he cannot understand why you do not see the human world the way that he does. He had very much taken to being a human and enjoys all the perks that come with it- the technology, the fawning women, the interesting and unique cuisines... Jin adores human culture. And so, it irks him that you constantly seem to be sticking out like a sore thumb.

“I’m sorry.” You say in a small voice and you’re so downcast that you miss the way that Jin’s face crumples with guilt.

“Just... try to be safer in the future. This realm has its own law enforcement. We don’t need to be guardians here.” He tells you softly. Then he clears his throat awkwardly. “How was the job interview?”

It’s an act of mercy- he’s trying to save you any further misery by changing the subject. Unfortunately, you have yet to break the news to Jin; you bombed the interview. Massively. It’s not like it was even a job you were that invested in. Just a fulltime job that involved doing some admin in an office. The exact, safe, boring job your mother has dreamed of for you since coming here and the exact job Jin has been pushing you to apply for because he’s sick of his parents nagging him to lend you money or take you out for dinner or give you lifts because your car broke down and you can’t afford to fix it. But you messed it up and you hate yourself for it. Hate yourself for disappointing your mother, and, if you’re really honest with yourself, for disappointing Jin. You’re already so aware of how lowly he views you and this just makes it sting that little bit more.

But it is the exact kind of job that will slowly kill you inside. You are trying to kill the part of you deep down that longs for something more. You don’t even know what it is you want. But killing that part and settling into this world and its ways and its customs mean giving in. It means forgetting. And for thirteen entire years, you have not been able to forget. How can you, when you left a piece of yourself back there, on the battlefield where your father had lost his life for your sake? He was not even given the luxury of a grave and yet you are supposed to be comfortable and post pictures on Instagram about how happy you are and go to brunch and just enjoy life? You... you can’t do it.

“I... don’t know.” You finally say. You shrug and glance away. “It felt like it went well. We’ll see if they call me back.”

Jin visibly brightens, unaware of your lie.

“I knew I had a good feeling about today!” He says warmly. “You’re totally going to get that job, I can feel it in my bones. Finally, my parents will get off my back!” He cheers. He probably means the last part as a joke but it’s just another sting; another reminder that Jin just sees you as a burden.

His celebration session is interrupted by an alert on his apple watch. He glances at whatever notification appear and winces. He glances at you like he’s done something wrong.

“I’ve got to go. I uh… I have a date.” He confesses. Jin is always tentative when he talks about the women he sees, like he’s anticipating some sort of reaction from you. You don’t know what reaction that would be, though, and you don’t think you’d ever feed his ego with any reaction other than a mild disgust and indifference. When you just continue to stare, he nods, more to himself than you. “I still have to sort all your paperwork to make sure you can get discharged so I probably can’t stay with you for your discharge. You don’t need a lift home, do you? I’ll probably have to drive straight there.”

Normally you would accept- though your broken bone heals faster than a human’s, it is still highly painful and inconvenient. But the thought of being in the car with Jin right now is highly unappealing. For some reason, lately when you spend time with Jin, you just feel more and more aware of how inadequate you are. You can’t help but notice the way people gravitate towards Jin. The way their eyes are constantly seeking him out or how a room brightens when he steps into it. And it’s not just his looks- it’s his everything. His demeanour, his smile, his success. He has taken to the human world like a fish to water and you just can’t. It’s not like you don’t want to. But his presence, his nagging, his constant disappointment with you… it’s a persistent, painful reminder of everything you can’t bring yourself to be. Not even for him, as much as you sincerely hate constantly disappointing him like this.

He adjusts his watch as you shake your head.

“I’ll just get the bus. I can still walk.” You say, plastering a smile on your face that hopefully seems sincere. Jin glares at you and reaches out to tap a finger against the firm plaster of your cast.

“Fine, but this stays on until tomorrow. I don’t care how fast you heal- I don’t want that leg healing crooked. Your mother will definitely notice if you suddenly have an extra bend in your shin. And no more chasing robbers- not even if it’s an old grandma with a cane being robbed. We stopped being Guardians for a reason.” He warns you. He adjusts his shirt cuffs and pulls out his phone to adjust his hair in the selfie camera before glaring at you. “I won’t tell Auntie about today because I don’t want her to worry. You can stay at mine tonight, so she doesn’t ask any questions when you hobble home in a cast.”

“Thanks.” You say and he’s oblivious to the bleak tone in your voice and the way your expression is downcast. If there’s one thing that has Jin oblivious to the rest of the world, it’s the prospect of a date. “Is the code to get in still the same?”

“I changed it to your birthday because that stupid pixie that always hangs around you worked out the code and keeps leaving my sugar open on the counter. I’m getting so many ants. I’m pretty sure he’s leaving it open for them.” Jin tells you already halfway turned around. You wisely choose not to tell Jin that you had told Jungkook the code to Jin’s apartment. Jin pauses before he can stride off. “Oh yeah. Auntie texted me- she wanted me to make sure you remember to come to dinner tomorrow and that you dress nicely. She has something important to say.”

“She could have just texted me herself.” You mumble, but Jin has already walked off, probably to sort the last of your paperwork before his date. A trail of sighing onlookers watch his departure. It just makes you scoff as you return to glaring at your cast. It itches.

You make a promise to yourself to use Jin’s kitchen scissors to remove it tomorrow so that he has at least some kind of inconvenience in his life. Nothing is more irritating than a blunt pair of kitchen scissors.

++++

Despite seeing Jin’s mother every other day, and renting the apartment directly across from her, your mother always acts like the president is coming over whenever Jin’s family comes for dinner. She pulls out the fancy glass bowls and the plates she bought with her first paycheck from the diner she was employed at when you were small. She vacuums the whole apartment and checks your room to make sure you’ve cleaned it in case Jin needs a bed to nap on after a long day at the hospital.

She’s never quite managed to get the hang of human cuisine and since the human realm doesn’t hold the magic stores available to cook Guardian food the way that she learned, you are always the one to make dinner. You’ve never once complained because you know that on some level, this is your mother’s attempt to compensate. This is the closest you will ever get to having a community with other Guardians, and Jin’s dad is the closest thing you will ever have to a father.

But even despite her usual frantic state whenever there’s a joint family dinner, she definitely seems more frazzled than usual.

“Is it meant to smell like that?” She asks with a grimace, leaning in to look at the salad you’ve thrown some vinaigrette over. You glance over your shoulder from where you are checking on the food in the oven.

“Yes, mum.” You say, standing and gently nudging her from the kitchen with a smile. “It’s vinaigrette- you liked it last time when I made it, remember? It’s why I made it tonight.”

Your mother digs her heels into the ground before you can drive her from the kitchen and send her back to wiping the already sparkling cabinets in the living room. She turns to scrutinise you carefully.

“Are you going to do your hair? It looks a little messy.” She frets. You raise an eyebrow. This is new. Your sweet, doting mother has never once criticised your appearance, not even when you went through that phase where you had an eyebrow piercing and dyed your hair neon green. Something is up.

“It’s just Auntie and Uncle, right?” You say suspiciously. “They used to bathe me when we lived in magregnum, mum.” You say. Using the original term for your home realm feels foreign on your tongue and your mother’s expression shutters at the sound of her original home.

“Well, a lot has changed since then.” She says softly. You’re about to question the strange, unfamiliar expression on your mother’s face. Something looks different about her... you squint when you recognise the shimmer of your favourite eye shadow on her lids.

“Are you wearing makeup?” You question. Her eyes go wide, and you can’t help but notice that her lashes are curled. But her answer is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Your mother pales and instantly she switches back into her jittery, pre-dinner self.

“Quickly, quickly!” She urges. “Dinner’s not ready yet!”

You shake your head with a smile at your mother’s familiar antics.

“It’s probably just Jin- Auntie and Uncle always make him come over earlier to help.” You call over your shoulder. You’re in a far better mood than you were yesterday, particularly after bending Jin’s kitchen scissors beyond repair during your attempts to remove the cast this morning before heading out and pretending you hadn’t been fired from your part-time job the week before. You had punched one of the senior managers for bullying the new hire. Your leg was mostly healed at that stage and Jin had told you that you could take the cast off before he left for work that morning. When you arrived back home in the afternoon, your mother had either chosen not to comment on your slight limp or had been too distracted by the stress of having dinner to notice. You are glad to have evaded her sad, disappointed eyes and the unwarranted comparisons to Jin for the day.

After a long few moments of peace in the kitchen, you can’t help but notice the lack of an annoying presence hovering over your shoulder. Usually when Jin arrives, he makes a beeline straight for the kitchen so that he can sample whatever it is you’re making and proclaim it decent (and then try and sneak some extra portions later in the evening when he thinks you aren’t looking). The complete lack of Jin’s presence to do whatever the kitchen equivalent of back seat driving is has you pausing with a sense of unease. It is the first clue that something is up- the door opens and yet the older guardian doesn’t make an appearance. Confused, you pause midway through pouring out melted chocolate from a glass measuring cup and glance over your shoulder.

“Minyo Dolkara,” is your mother’s tentative call and your eyes widen at the term of endearment. It is a common one back in your home realm, but your mother only uses it to comfort you when she feels you are truly upset. She is knotting her fingers anxiously together and beside her stands an unfamiliar middle-aged man. He smiles warmly at you, and your gaze lands on the arm he holds carefully around your mother’s shoulder. Your grip tightens around the handle of the measuring cup.

“Mum?” You ask, your tone laced with confusion. “Who’s this?”

Your mother swallows nervously and glances at the man in question.

“This is... my love.” She confesses. “Nigel. We met at my night classes and I... He...”

“I’m her fiancé.” The man, Nigel corrects. He is a friendly, round sort of man. The kind of man often seen on tv playing father to a rebellious teenage daughter in a sitcom. And his smile is warm and excited, like he’s happy to meet you. He directs that smile to your mother, and rather than look disgusted or uncomfortable, she merely beams back at him.

That’s probably what this night was for, in hindsight. And why your mother was so nervous. She planned this to introduce her new boyfriend... no, her new fiancé to you, and to Jin’s family. Dimly, in the back of your mind, you register all the unusual signs about tonight. The way she’d messaged Jin to make sure you were at the dinner despite the fact that she’s never been able to bring herself to make you do anything you don’t want to.... the way she’s been commenting on your appearance despite it never having bothered her before... how long has she kept this from you? How... how could she be seeing another man?

No words form in your mouth- instead, the face of your father hovers in your mind. After thirteen years, you can’t fully recall what he looks like and you weren’t able to bring any pictures over to the human realm with you. It has been long enough that you cannot recall his face or his voice. So, in theory, why can’t your mother meet someone new? Did you expect her to live as a widow until she died, alone and far from the home realm she grew up in? Of course, you didn’t. But for some reason, this man’s presence right now leaves a bitter sting like she’s plunged a knife into your chest.

The smile drops from Nigel’s face after a few moments of you staring blankly and his smile is replaced with concern. It takes you a while to understand it is because you have crushed the hand of the measuring cup in your tight grip. It falls to the ground and shatters, followed by a few drops of blood as red rapidly spreads over your clenched fist and lands on the ground. You haven’t used your enhanced strength in so long you almost forgot you had it.

“Fiancé?” You echo at last and though it is your own voice, it sounds distant. Like your ears are suddenly submerged under water. You don’t know what hurts you more in that moment- the painful reminder that the world is moving on without your father... or the fact that your mum has kept such a huge secret from you for who knows how long, probably because she was scared of how you’d react. “You’re engaged?”

“(Y/N),” your mother says, taking a step forward, perhaps to comfort you. She does it tentatively, like you are a beast she needs to placate. The people in your life- at least the ones who know your true identity- often approach you like that. Slowly and hesitantly, as if they don’t know how you will react. Like you are a ticking time bomb, ready to go off and cause trouble. Which in a way, you suppose you are. Things have always been difficult with you, after all. You never settled into human schooling well and you didn’t get into a good university like Jin, and you’re always getting yourself into trouble trying to help random people off the street. And your mother, your poor placating mother, is prepared to do the same thing she always does. Apologise that you had to leave your home, that the new human world isn’t to your liking, but gently remind you that it is, in fact, your real home now.

But you do not give her the chance to feed you the same tired lines. You’re so sick of hearing this lecture. Every time you wind up in hospital because you’ve interfered with a fight or been hit by a car trying to save a random puppy, Jin gives you the same, frustrated lecture. When you fail another interview or get fired from a new job, your mother is there to try and fail to hide her disappointment that you aren’t leading the life she’d planned for you. But not this time- this is too far. You’ve been trying to squash the part of you that is a guardian for their sake for so long now, but you cannot do it for him. For this man, this stranger, who has waltzed into your home like he owns it and announced that he’s marrying your mother. As if he has a right to just join your family. You are out the door before she or Nigel can offer a word of explanation.

You don’t see Jin until you crash into him. He steadies you with a hand planted on either shoulder. You glance up at his face, barely registering what he looks like through the blur of tears spilling forward. For a brief moment, the sight of Jin’s face (even blurred) and the familiar set of his broad shoulders fills you with relief. Even if Jin’s always viewed you as a bit of pain, he’s always been an important person to you, always ready to provide support. But then you see the look on his face.

Jin actually winces when he sees your expression. Perhaps he is realising it’s going to be one of those nights, where he sits up on the roof with you for hours and comforts you as you spill your guts. That’s how it’s always been, after all, ever since you were a small child and would run to him when you scraped your knee instead of your own parents. You would cry and he would offer some wise words mixed in with a stern reprimand and then his parents would congratulate him for being such a good influence on you. Even when you hit high school and started to realise for the first time that Jin didn’t view you with the same adoration you viewed him, he never stopped being that person for you. The shoulder to cry on, the rock to lean on. But now, he stiffens, as if steeling himself for the explanation behind your tears and he probably already has a speech half prepared in his mind. That’s the job he delegated himself, after all. To look after you, for as long as you are alive and giving him headaches. So, if it’s always been his job to do just that, why does he look like he’s just been asked to help clean a public bathroom at the sight of you in distress?

He... he doesn’t want to deal with you. That’s why he looks so uncomfortable.

You feel something inside you crumple. You can’t identify what feeling it is but, in that moment, you realise something. Everyone in your life... they all view you as a burden. Your mum had delayed telling you about her boyfriend until the last possible moment because your response would be difficult to handle. Jin’s parents see you as a hopeless child that their perfect son must look after. And Jin.... well you can see from the look on his face how he views you. It reminds you of a dark day, all those years ago in high school, a memory you thought you’d pushed down, and it surfaces now, before you can push it back down like you normally do. But then you set your shoulders- you were over the things Jin had said that day, and you aren’t going to allow the way that he looks right now to be the thing that resurfaces those feelings.

You shove past him. Over the past few months, you’ve been avoiding Jin more and more as your self-esteem plummeted lower and lower but today something tips over the edge for you. You don’t know how or why it happened but at some point, Jin has stopped being the person you can turn to when things get rough. And you have just realised that he no longer wants to be that person either, which hurts far more than you ever thought it could.

“(Y/N)!” You hear him call out to you, probably shocked that you aren’t caving immediately and telling him what’s wrong- after all, there’s probably only been one time in your life before this that you’ve done so. You ignore his call though, making a beeline for the staircase, and he does not follow you.

The place you usually go to when misery strikes is the rooftop of your crappy apartment building. You’ve spent countless hours up on the rooftop, watching the sky. It’s oddly therapeutic- the thing you used to miss most when first moving to this realm was the stars. Back home, they sparkle different colours like precious stones scattered across black velvet. Here, the smog of humans blocks their stars from the sky. But the brightest stars are somewhat visible on clear nights and they are the closest reminder you have of home. That’s probably why you have chosen the roof as your refuge. Since beginning to take refuge here when things go bad, you’ve accumulated a small collection of old furniture from whenever your mum goes on a redecorating spree.

What has resulted is a comfy little corner of the world you can call your own, away from everyone else. No one else seems to use this place, even if the rooftop is accessible to everyone in the complex, but that suits you just fine. It’s perfect for curling up and wallowing, much like you are desperate to do right now. There are a lot of confusing, painful emotions swirling around inside you, ones that you aren’t really sure how to deal with or process.

You slump down against the old picnic blanket you have stretched across the floor and let your head collapse against an old cushion your mum threw out years ago and peer up at the sky. Wincing, you idly pick out pieces of glass from your hand and watch the skin seal over almost immediately as you wonder if the sky really as beautiful back home as your memory tells you it was. Or, do you just want to believe things were better in the other realm? You’re not really sure but it really would be nice to go back. Not forever- as much as you hate to admit it, your family is here now, which makes this realm your home. But you want to see the place you came from. You want to see the stars and the valleys and the rivers. The night before you and your mother fled, your father had told you that everything about Magregnum would change by the time you were old enough to go back, except the landscape. Mountains cannot move, after all. A part of you longs desperately for that- to see the things that will not change and the landscapes that could not leave your father behind. The only reminders that you aren’t just a random human washed up in the bleakness of life, but a guardian. Something special and precious. Something better than what you feel like you are.

An annoying buzzing in your ear breaks the bubble of your pondering. You blink a few times and then sigh, turning your head to the side. A small figure, no taller that the height of your handspan, stands beside you with his arms folded. Small, insect like wings flap so rapidly they are little more than flashes, catching the light of the fairy lights you’d strung across the fencing of the rooftop a few weeks ago. The figure tilts his small head to the side and at this proximity you can see the way he frowns. He always has the oddest tendency to pop up whenever you are alone and miserable and likely he is displeased to find you in such a state yet again.

“Do you ever do anything other than sulk?” The creature asks. He is a pixie, as you know from your first interaction where he had very indignantly informed you that no, he is not a cross between a mosquito and a human in-between your attempts to squash him with a fly swatter. You grimace.

“No.” You snap, rolling onto your side to face away. Alas, the small pixie merely lifts easily into the air and sails over your face like he’s an Olympian performing high jump. He lands neatly in front of you once more and grins.

“What happened this time?” He asks, settling down into the picnic blanket cross legged. He plants an elbow on either knee and rests his chin in his hands. The buzzing of his wings slows to a gentle flap, which allows you to discern the thin, silvery veins that lace across the delicate membranes of his wings. You’ve always secretly thought it a shame that Jungkook is just a pixie, given his handsome face and charming nature, but being a human would mean the loss of his gorgeous wings. “Did Jin ground you again?”

“He’s never grounded me before.” You snap defensively. “And even if he did, it’s not like I would listen to him. He’s not my parent.”

Jungkook shrugs, leaning back to press his weight into his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Yes, you would.” He points out. “You always complain about Jin, but I know you always do what he says.”

You purse your lips and sit up. Jin is one of the last people you want to talk about right now. Jungkook stands up too, launching himself into the air so that he can settle on your knee.

“So what did Jin do this time? Change the code to his apartment again? Find out about your motorbike? Treat you to dinner?” Jungkook questions eagerly. You’ve never seen the pixie interact with another living being other than you, Jin or Taehyung (and on occasion your mother) and he had sadly informed you that he was the only one of his kind in this realm when you first met thirteen years ago. So, you have a theory that he lives out his need for drama and gossip and social interaction vicariously through you. It’s the only way to explain his constant interest in your life and the things that are making you sad.

“It wasn’t Jin.” You finally admit, lifting your gaze once more to the sky above. “Why are you even here anyway? Did you run out of YouTube dance covers to copy?”

Jungkook nods and settles down beside you. “It’s all pointless after a while.” He says forlornly. “It’s not like humans can see me. Only guardians will ever see me dance and they don’t care. I figured I might as well talk to one sentient being before I go crazy. The moths just aren’t great conversation partners these days.” He pauses. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Jungkook’s confession has your resolve crumbling. Sometimes it is easy to forget that you, Jin and Taehyung are the only people Jungkook can mix with, as a pixie in a human world. Even if humans could see him, the government would probably deport him back to the other realm the second it found out he was threatening exposure of magical beings to humans. A strange sadness on his behalf overcomes you and that is the thing that makes you willing to confess what’s bothering you. “It was... my mother.”

Jungkook is silent and when you glance down at where he is seated upon your knee, he is also gazing in wonder at the sky above. He doesn’t press further but you still somehow feel compelled to share.

“She’s engaged.” You admit and the words feel oddly piercing amongst the soft hum of city traffic. They hang in the cool night air and suddenly the warmth of the night seems stifling rather than comfortable.

“I thought the Q’uvar were happy when that sort of thing happened? Don’t you all have those huge festivities in your village whenever a marriage ceremony happens?” Jungkook questions. The natural way the original term for your people rolls off his tongue testifies to his origin- despite him living in the human realm, there is no doubt he comes from Magregnum, just as you do. Even when you were living in the other realm, your people would refer to themselves as guardians. Only the really old-fashioned members of your race would use the language that had slowly died out over the years as the common tongue became the norm. Not for the first time, you are curious about Jungkook and where he popped up from. Jungkook turns to look at you and tilts his tiny head. His inky black hair flops to one side with the motion. “Shouldn’t you be happy that your mother is engaged?”

The unintentional reprimand slaps you across the face and you wince. In theory, you should be thrilled that after so much difficulty and hardship settling into this realm, your mother has found a source of happiness. She has worked so hard on your behalf to make sure you grow up safe and secure in this foreign realm and so the least you can do to repay her is to be happy when she is happy. But the niggling fear that always chases you holds you back. It’s a fear of change- of the way life seems to move too fast for you to catch up. Here you are, stuck in the past when even your own mother has managed to move on and build a life for herself.

“I should be.” You answer softly. You lift your knees and hug them close to your chest- Jungkook falls off with an indignant squawk. Moments later he rises in the air until he is eye level with you- even the buzz of his wings seems irritated.

“Well then, why aren’t you?” He asks, but the tone of his voice implies that his patience has been lost with you. Since the moment of meeting you all those years ago, Jungkook had assigned himself as a sort of pseudo-counsellor and confidante, but it does not mean he enjoys the position. No, more often than not, he is annoyed and puzzled by your seemingly trivial problems. You kind of enjoy such an attitude though- it makes the things that feel insurmountable to you become small and insignificant. Jungkook makes you feel like problems can be overcome. This time, however, his dismissive attitude has you feeling worse.

“Because I’m homesick.” You admit miserably. “Why does everyone seem to settle in here so well? Why am I the only one struggling? Why could everyone leave things behind so easily? How can they just pretend that they’re humans, and completely ignore the fact that they are Guardians?”

You press the palms of your hands against your eyes and release a long exhale. No one has followed you up here, after you rushed out like that. Who even knows what state your mother’s dinner is in? Hopefully she remembered to get everything out of the oven. Are they having fun without you? Is Nigel charming them, winning them over, getting them excited about the possibility of a wedding? Are they… are they really happy, in this realm? “Do you ever think about going back?” You question, after a long moment of silence. You drop your hands from your eyes.

“Sometimes.” Jungkook admits. “I wonder what it looks like now. Taehyung says it’s largely the same, it’s just the cultures and people that change.”

You stare out across the ugly concrete buildings that the rooftop view provides you. In this realm, everything moves fast and changes quickly. In the blink of an eye, a new building can pop up down the road or an entire family can move away from their twenty-year-old restaurant and close it without any warning. Back home, you remember things being steady and unchanging. Every morning, you would rise to the same mountain ranges, to the same fringe of forest, to the same river song. The only guardian you know who has gone back is Taehyung, and he validates that impression- forests and mountains do not change.

“I wish I had half Taehyung’s courage. I want to go back.” You confess.

Jungkook hugs his knees into his chest and mirrors your position beside you.

“What would it achieve?” Jungkook asks curiously. You shrug, picking idly at a stray thread on your jeans.

“Hopefully something.” You say. “I feel like I’ll never know what could happen if I don’t take the risk. I just… I feel like it’s calling me. It doesn’t want me to forget what I am. This realm doesn’t suit me because this isn’t my realm. Maybe I’ll find a place that fits over there.”

Jungkook nods sagely. A moth flaps past him and he smiles at it as it goes past.

“And what would you do once you’re there?” He questions. It does not take you long to give an answer. You’ve had this adventure mapped out in your mind since you were a miserable, homesick eleven-year-old.

“My dad used to have this phrase. “The river loves those who take the plunge.”. He’d always say it in the old tongue, and apparently it was an old guardian phrase that meant sometimes taking the risk was worth it. But apparently the phrase comes from a river to the east of our home. Dad said that the river is home to a special migrating plant, and it lights up and looks like shooting stars. They call it ‘the dancing river’. He promised to take me there, one day when the war was over.” You explain. “If rivers and mountains don’t change… then that’s that last piece of him I can find in that realm.”

“And that’s what you want to see, if you go back?” Jungkook asks. You nod and shift your position to the side of some old drawers you had rescued from your mother’s bedroom. Inside are a bunch of wrinkled old papers that you pull out and show him.

“Taehyung always brings me back a map whenever he gets back from over there to show me how things have changed. Look.” You point at a small blue line that trickles across the painted landscape of the map. The label is written in the common tongue. “River of stars” it says in sleek cursive. You know from matching it up with an older map that the name has changed but it’s the same river your father told you about. “It’s only a five-day hike from the portal.” You point at a small mark on the map- this has Taehyung’s writing scribbled on it, marking the join between the human realm and the magical one. “I could go and just... get it out of my system. See the river. Like a road trip but in another realm.”

Jungkook flutters over to peer at the small distance between the river in question and the portal on the map.

“I just have to go once. Just once. And see it- see the places he loved. And then I’ll settle into this realm and get the boring job Jin and my mother want me to have and marry an equally boring human. I’ll go to her wedding and watch her pretend like my dad never existed and like I’m not a Guardian.” You tell him. “I... we didn’t even get to say good-bye, Jungkook.”

Your voice cracks and Jungkook glances up at you in surprise. You rarely open up about your father to the pixie but he’s always curious when you do, like you’re sharing the story of an ancient war hero. Which in a way, he is. Though the war is fresh and recent in your mind, over a thousand years have passed back home, since your people roamed freely there.

“We just got word that he was dead, and we had to go, or we would be too.” You tell him, recalling the way Jin’s father had woken you two up in the middle of the night, pale as a ghost and drenched in your father’s blood. You remember running a lot that night and clinging to your mother’s hand. You had tripped and scraped your knee and you hadn’t been able to cry. And when you reached the human realm, your mother had shed a single tear and then shouldered on into your new life. No time or space to grieve. Not when there was so much uncertainty ahead. “No funeral or anything. I just... I want proof, that he was alive. I want to see the places he saw and just... I want to get a chance to say goodbye. I never even got to tell him that I love him one last time.”

Jungkook holds a hand to his chin as he ponders your words and then he looks at you. Though he is small, you can make out the dark colour of his eyes. His expression is soft and gentle. It reminds you of the look Jin used to give you when you’d come up here because the kids had made a mean comment about you not understanding their weird meme jokes or you were sad because you’d seen a kid hanging out with his father. Back before Jin had lost his patience with you, when he just got that the reason you couldn’t settle in was because of the cost it took to get to this realm safely.

“You know it wouldn’t bring him back, right?” Jungkook asks softly. “Everything you knew about that realm faded thousands of years ago. You won’t find home there anymore than it is here. And it won’t stop your mother from getting married.”

“I know.” You answer forlornly. “But maybe things will be better if I just get to… acknowledge what I am. Even if it’s only for five days.” Jungkook stares for a long moment and then nods, his shoulders set with sudden determination.

“Then let’s go.” He announces. You blink in surprise at his proposition.

“Go?” You echo. He nods and straightens, planting on hand on his hip and pointing the other directly at you.

“I am the first person to point out that you’re spoiled and selfish.” Jungkook reminds you, which has you wincing. “You don’t even know how lucky you are, to have so many people who love you. Do you know what I would give to be human? To have a friends and family like you do? And every day you spit on it. If this is what it takes for you to finally be content, then do it.”

You frown and look away from him.

“I don’t want to go when you put it like that.” You say, resenting the slight way your voice wobbles with hurt. You feel the slight tickle to your cheek and find Jungkook has pressed his tiny hand comfortingly to the side of your face.

“Don’t be hurt.” He says softly. “I do know why you’re struggling.” He offers you as comfort. “And I do understand why it’s so hard. To live amongst humans every day and pretend like none of the terrible things that went down over there really happened. But in focusing on the things you’re missing, you’re missing out on the things you have.” He explains. “So, let’s go, (Y/N). Let’s go see the Dancing River and find the peace you’re looking for.”

You stare at Jungkook for a long time, before offering the slightest nod. He’s right. What’s the use of waiting and hoping and holding out for something? Why not just go and find out if seeing this river will solve any of your problems? The river loves those who take the plunge, after all.

“Let’s go, Jungkook.” You agree, with the faint hint of a smile on your face.

What you don’t see, as you converse with Jungkook, is Jin slowly closing the door to the rooftop, first aid kit in hand. He gives one last glance at the doorway, wondering if he should join you and Jungkook before shaking his head with a sigh. He turns around and makes the slow trek back downstairs with a troubled expression on his face.

#kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #castlebangtan #seokjin scenario #writing

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a-magical-artist · 4 years

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Top Ten Favorite Doppels

Turned in less than five minutes before Halloween ends, but whatever:

10. Abigail

Hagumu is really just a scared kid despite being a Neo Magius stooge, and Abigail is a very good representation of that; Hagumu closes her eyes whenever she comes out, to which, same as Abigail is a very intimidating doppel filled with teeth and spikes. Her form’s listed as a “reversible shape” and she gives the impression of a torn up, straw-filled doll with a toothy mouth and spines/shards all throughout her inner lining. It’s also a good twist that since Hagumu’s magic makes her unusually strong against witches, Abigail is the opposite, being effective against magical girls.

I really love the exterior on this one, it looks very pretty and ornate, and it does a nice job contrasting with the messy, shard-filled fiber underneath.

9. Gothel

I’m very close to unlocking Gothel (all I need are materials for Magia leveling), but I already love her design. She takes Yozuru’s wish and magnifies/projects it as many witches (or doppels) do, in her case, trying to find someone or something that can make Yozuru feel the emotions she wished away. She takes the form of a tower (name being a great Rapunzel reference) with exposed ribs she uses to drag in and crush whatever she sees, which is...fairly impressive as a doppel design without being too gory (a reason why Beatrice and Therisia aren’t here or in this slot).

8. Clothette

I...really, really don’t like Suzune Magica, and I don’t like Suzune. I do however, have a grudging respect for her Doppel design. Clothette’s based around a gadfly, comes out of Suzune’s eye, has bells for eyes, and is constantly on fire. It’s a great design, but points off for coming from a character I can’t stand.

7. Gibdaughter

So, fun fact about hummingbirds for anyone who doesn’t know; they’re beautiful little birds...that have the worst tempers. I love them for that, and I’m happy to see one used as a base for a doppel design. Gibdaughter, as per usual, externalizes Kanae’s wish to be left in peace by using her very love of music. Her main attacks all revolve around the vibrations she gives off, adjusting them to resonate with her targets until they shatter. Given both the animal and the character of Kanae, this was an all too appropriate fit. The doppel’s mechanical appearance is pretty and both a nice reference to hummer feathers (they give off a metallic sheen when light hits them), and to Kanae’s aloof exterior.

6. Sylvie

Given how sweet and caring Ikumi is, this one was a surprise. Sylvie’s a very invasive doppel-moreso than Hevelius even-in that she’s not only formed from Ikumi’s lower half, but also seems to thread her way through her entire body given Ikumi’s eyes turn into glowing, barbed anchors. Definitely lines up with her nature, but...jesus. She gives the impression she’s based around one of those cymbal monkey toys, which is already creepy enough, but Sylvie’s “head” is just Ikumi, and also the gigantic screw jutting out of her upper back. The accordion midsection does not help in any of this and makes Sylvie’s movements look off, even for a doppel. Good but horrifying design, though the glowing eye anchors are a little over the top for me.

5. Hund Balou

Hund Balou is one of the rare genuinely disturbing doppels; Hanna was already very close to being her by externalizing her curse on the world and those around her, so there’s not much for Hund to do except just. be destructive. Her form is creepy, her description’s creepy, everything about Hund is really screwed up. And Hanna, being spiteful, vindictive Hanna, loves her and thankfully, never got the opportunity to use her for some pretty obvious reasons. Hanna’s relationship with Hund is similar to Alina’s with Old Dorothy-both are in sync with their doppels and have the same goal, which is...horrifying given both characters. Hund is really cluttered and witch-like in appearance, being covered in leashes, chains, and buttons with a splattered green/purple/blue dress topping it all off. Her mixed media feel is pronounced, which is a good indication of how close Hanna is to her, and how messed up her implications really are.

4. Ein Roter Drache

This is the stupidest, and yet most awesome doppel I have ever seen; it’s a dragon that makes its entrance by riding on its hoard of treasure and smacks its targets with its tail. The tiny crown is a really funny touch for it and I will forever be sad that I can’t get Elisa outside of a support as of NA’s shutdown

Also love how it’s just Elisa’s bottom half to give the illusion she’s riding the doppel-that’s awesome and I love the creativity going into it

3. Oaji

*Insert the “What are you doing in my swamp” mere here*

Oaji takes the appearance of an entire swamp that lures people in, hinting at both the barrier of the witch and the witch herself possibly being similar to Zola, which is a cool concept. I love how simple she looks, and her coming out from behind Chiharu lines up with her misguided efforts to help her. She kind of gives off a similar vibe to Elsa Maria from the original series-even the branches bring the Sebastian familiars to mind. Also really love the lantern and the gray pool forming underneath Chiharu-the gold streaks just really top everything off here.

2. Marita

I love assassin bugs and so I love Marita. Instant number two for me

For real though, I didn’t expect these to be used as a doppel base, so I was very surprised when Sunao came out and her doppel had this as one. It looks appropriately creepy and very elegant, and I like the little necklaces hanging just below the head of the doppel. Marita also shares the needle/sewing aesthetic with Latria, and although there’s no blood, the giant one serving as a mouth is scary enough in implication. The crystal ball (that turns red during attacks) being the doppel’s abdomen’s also a nice touch.

Honorable Mentions:

Old Dorothy: Old Dorothy in-game is described as witch-like, and that’s because unless the viewer knows where her core body is, she just looks like an unrecognizable mass of puffballs and paper flowers dipped in orange paint. With witches, you can never really tell what it is you’re looking at, so Old Dorothy gives off that same impression. She didn’t officially make it because of her weird little core body, but I do love her gimmick.

Theresia: I do like Theresia, but I felt her design wouldn’t fit since I’m trying to avoid the more gory doppels. I do like how she’s literally just Sana’s ears, and how there’s two versions of her that have an equal chance of coming out (though this does present some complications when going competitive with Sana).

Poker Alice: Too much of what looks to be exposed muscle for me to feel comfortable putting her in, but I adore the skulls exploding outward behind the chair and the hands covering Yukika’s eyes. Speaking of, the eyes on this thing are both cool and nicely scary in contrast to the simplicity of the rocking chair.

Gosirsa: Colorful and very beautiful, the wheels at the front make for a surreal touch, something that many doppels tend to lack due to being scaled down versions of the full witch. Didn’t make it because there’s too few slots and too many doppels to choose from, but definitely in my personal faves.

1. Campanella

Campanella’s just the right amount of dumb, elegant, and unsettling, hence her being here at the number one spot. Yachiyo’s training event also helped me warm up to her; while Yu Hong and Cyan were self-defeating and frustrated respectively, Camp was really, really mellow by contrast. She seemed willing to work with Yachiyo as long as she accepted and stopped rejecting her, which was, at the time, a very nice change from the usual (not that Camp doesn’t try to take over however-once Yachiyo implies she’s going to keep running from her, she goes on the attack). She takes the form of a ticket puncher holding a lantern, comes out of Yachiyo’s leg, and gives the overall impression of a scorpion, ridiculously oversized shoes and all. Her anime appearances are a nice representation of Yachiyo’s fears and it’s just really satisfying to find out that they have enough of a relationship to where she can use her in fights. Doppels when it comes down to it are a sort of agreement/truce between the magical girl and their witch self; not only does it allow them to come back, it allows them to make peace with their insecurities and fears without the danger of turning into a witch. Campanella, both in-game and the anime, represents that relationship to its fullest, so she’s at the #1 spot.

#magia record #halloween special I guess #doppels

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tickle-bugs · 3 years

Note

In an unprecedented turn of events I have come to ask you about Clark for the ask meme 😂

Wow what a surprise!!!! What a completely unforeseen unprompted event <3

Find the ask meme here!

1. on a scale of 1-10, how ticklish are they?

He’s a 9. Bruce is SO smug about it.

2. where is their most ticklish spot(s)?

Under his arms/his topmost ribs. Forget kryptonite--this is Superman’s weakness.

3. which spots are they not ticklish?

Nowhere <3 If you press your thumbs just beneath his shoulderblades he will CACKLE send tweet

4. what is their laugh like?

His laugh is SO loud and carries for ages. It’s youthful and clear and gives you the warm fuzzies just from proximity. He’s also a chronic giggler.

5. do they enjoy tickling? if yes, is it a fun platonic/familial thing, or kinky thing to them, or can it be both depending on the circumstance?

Clark loves all forms of roughhousing/physical affection, so yes!

6. are they more often a lee or ler, generally?

Solid switch! He’s always bullying Bruce but Diana bullies him, so it’s even.

7. who is someone in their life that they tickle often?

BRUCE!!! All the time. Clark is such a little shit and loves pushing Bruce’s buttons. He also loves tickling Barry--his reactions are too cute.

Diana’s an honorable mention because Clark gets instantly wrecked every time <3

8. who is someone in their life that they get tickled by often?

Bruce and Diana! Bruce has to get revenge and nearly always succeeds, and Diana is a tickly fiend, so he’s pretty much walled in on both sides.

It probably doesn’t help that Barry caught wind of Clark’s sensitivity and is now determined to bring him down.

9. does the word “tickle” or any variation of embarrass them?

Nope!

10. are they embarrassed about their ticklishness, and do they try to deny/hide it?

Not really? He’s more embarrassed by his reactions (his laugh is absurdly loud and he has a habit of floating away like a drifting balloon when he’s tickled which is ridiculously endearing). He always tries to quiet his laugh but it never works.

11. would gentle tickling or rough tickling affect them more?

Rough tickles!! His skin is super thick and gentle tickles don’t really get to him all that much. I think this is an excellent time to push my ‘being hit by a ton of bullets tickles sometimes’ agenda, though. If the shots are spaced out, he can ignore it, but machine gun? Clark is down for the count just wheezing. This absolutely has happened in the field and the bank robbers were so confused by his giggling that they just. put their guns down and froze long enough for Clark to arrest them. It’s semi-public knowledge but no criminal believes it enough to try it out intentionally and like. die. The League will never let him forget it <3

12. is there a specific spot that they enjoy being tickled, either exclusively or more than other spots? what is it?

Not particularly! He likes gentle back tickles but they don’t really tickle. It just feels nice.

13. is there a spot that they can’t stand to be tickled, either because it’s just too sensitive, or it’s uncomfortable/painful/etc? what is it?

Nah! If something tickles too much he may need a break because he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt his ler.

14. would they ever purposefully bug a friend/partner/sibling into tickling them, and if so, how would they go about it?

Clark my beloved goblin <3 So he doesn’t provoke anyone into tickling him, but he will start chaos constantly. He’ll squeeze Arthur’s side and blame it on Barry just to watch that tickle fight ensue (is it really a fight if arthur’s not super ticklish and barry’s a walking tickle spot?). He’ll poke Diana from behind and then point at Bruce like :) the absolute picture of innocence. The only problem with this plan is that it’s so easy to tell it’s him and none of the League members are above retribution.

15. does teasing affect them?

Yes!! He turns pink and his laugh gets a little whiney and he tries to hide his face. Especially along the lines of making fun of him being Superman and being ticklish at all, especially this ticklish.

#ticklish!clark #clark kent #justice league #dc #thank you for the completely unprompted not at all asked for message <3 #i love clark so much :') <3

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cotncandyboifics · 3 years

Text

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 7

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 2,142

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: food, implied starts of anxiety attacks, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: whenever I reread this chapter I'm not sure whether the point of it is clear to the reader or not... but I'm not sure how to rewrite/fix it lol

...

Finally, it was Friday. Between classes, Virgil was pacing quickly down the hall when he noticed Logan exchanging things from his locker. He also saw Roman approaching the tall boy, adorning a mischievous smile. Virgil decided to slip out of sight behind the bustle of the hallway to observe their interaction, staying hidden near the walls.

Roman stood directly behind Logan and tapped him on the shoulder. Logan turned fully around, and upon seeing Roman, he opened his mouth to speak. He was quickly was interrupted, however, as Roman put his hand against the locker at Logan's side, and traced his other hand down Logan's button-up-covered chest. Logan was pinned against his open locker. Virgil couldn't make out the things Roman was saying to him, but Logan looked blatantly... caught off guard, to say the least. His pearly white cheeks were dusted pink. After a few moments, he pushed Roman aside and made to leave, but Roman grabbed him by the tie and pulled him back. They'd switched positions, Logan having put his pale bony arm out to stop himself from falling. Roman was still pulling his tie, smirking and looking into his eyes deviously. Virgil read Roman's lips and thought he saw "-if you're into that." Logan was clearly getting frustrated and forced his tie away, collecting his book bag from the floor and shooing Roman so that he could close his locker. Virgil saw Logan speak, and made out something like "I'll be late for class."

What a couple they made. Virgil felt something heavy growing in the pit of his stomach. Roman had left to go to his class as well, and the halls were becoming more and more empty as students filed into various classrooms. Finally the bell rang, and Virgil felt like he couldn't move to save his life. He started scratching his wrist and felt his breathing become uneven. No, not here, not now. He forced himself to breathe normally and made his way to his next class.

...

Later that day, Patton was lying on Virgil's bed, throwing a bouncy ball up and catching it in a slow rhythm. Virgil was seated at his desk right beside Patton, vaguely attempting to finish his French homework. Not like it'd be due until Monday anyway.

Patton and Virgil had been good friends from a young age, and usually hung out like this around twice a week. Every now and then they'd do something special, but usually it was just being together and talking.

Virgil knew a lot about Patton, more than most people do. He knew about his best friend's current... sticky home situation, and so he never questioned it when Patton came up to him later in the school day with a sorrowful glint in his eyes, asking if they could go back to Virgil's house that evening.

"Do you think they had a nice date yesterday?" Patton said after a minute or two of calm silence. Virgil looked over at him. He'd stopped throwing the ball, and was now inspecting its strange colorful surface, scratching at little flakes of plastic that hung off its seams. Virgil thought to himself how it was so strange that these types of bouncy balls always seemed to practically glow when exposed to light, even though they had no sparkles or shiny qualities about them.

"I guess I don't know. Roman might have ruined it with his overconfidence and ridiculous antics," Virgil finally replied, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. "Especially if he did something like take them to some 5-star family-owned Italian restaurant where you get kicked out unless you're wearing a waistcoat and you have to make a reservation a year in advance," he mused. Patton giggled a little.

"Yeah, that sounds like Mr. Prince," He offered a little quieter than he wanted to. Virgil eyed him with concern.

"You haven't really been thinking much of it, have you?" Virgil turned fully toward his bespectacled friend now, who was just staring blankly, clutching the bouncy ball to his chest. "I mean, I don't think it'll be much of a distraction to our project than Roman already is. And besides, I really doubt that Logan will go for a second round," Virgil dismissed the notion bitterly, and Patton wondered when Virgil had developed such a resentment against Roman.

"Well," Patton started, sitting up and pulling his legs into a criss-cross applesauce, "I'm surprised Logan wanted to in the first place. I don't think he has ever dated anyone, let alone someone so..."

"I know what you mean." Virgil got up to sit criss-cross applesauce with his friend on the bed. They looked at each other and giggled a little, remembering how they used to do this as little kids. They were just like brothers in a way.

Virgil noticed Patton pulling at his ring again, and knew something was up. "Hey," He said, taking Patton's hand. Patton looked up at him nervously from behind his big round glasses, his blonde curls hiding the top trims. "What's up?"

Patton made a noise that was something between a scoff and a sigh, looking away but not pulling away. "I just..." He thought for a long moment on how to begin what he wanted to say without saying what he didn't want to say... not yet, anyway. "I want Logan to be happy. He's a, good friend," A smile curled at the edges of his mouth. "I don't think Roman makes him... unhappy, per se. I think they could be really," Patton pulled his hand back and started fidgeting with his ring again, "close... but I don't know if, them being together will make Logan happy. W-will make either of them happy." He looked up at Virgil then, who was stoic. "I-I mean, i know it isn't really any of my business to worry about. I know I don't really know... anything about their date or..."

Virgil gave a somber smile. "I know what you mean. I feel it too. I mean, they don't seem to... clash correctly," Virgil meshed his fingers together as a visual metaphor. "They don't fit quite right into a relationship box together. And i don't think Roman is enamored with him in the way he says he is, or acts like he is." That bitter tone resurfaced in Virgil's voice again, and Patton took note of it.

He looked up, curls bouncing slightly. "What do you mean by that?" Virgil returned his eye contact, and Patton looked like he was hiding some emotion. Maybe... anger?

"Well..." Virgil thought about what he'd said. Specifically a certain song and a certain moment that had given him the notion that, as much as Roman acted confident, when he was truly falling for someone... he might act quite the opposite. Virgil felt his cheeks heat up, and Patton's expression changed.

"Is there something you know that i don't?" Patton pressed. Not maliciously, but curiosity dripped from his voice. Virgil brought his fingertips to his cheeks and wondered how they'd gotten so hot so quickly.

"Well, I, I just..." Virgil stuttered for a long moment. "I suppose it seems like, i don't know, like, maybe if Roman were really, um, that is to say, maybe, he would be, if he were really, you know, into someone, like that, like, um," He was talking with his hands too much, and Patton noticed his breathing becoming more like heaving. He took Virgil's frantic hands.

"Hey, take a sec," Patton's voice was coated in caramel. Virgil finally made eye contact again. "Breathe, bud," Patton said even calmer and sweeter this time. Virgil's attention suddenly switched to his breathing patterns, which he now noticed were getting rather erratic. He took a moment to reconcile himself.

"Sorry, I went off on a bit of a tangent there... but, as i was saying, or, trying to say," Virgil continued to stumble his way to his point, but with more purpose this time, "... Roman, strikes me as the type, to seem... like he wouldn't act the way he does with Logan if he were in love with him, maybe," He was fiddling with his own fingers now. "but i have a feeling that he might be... a bit of a softie. I mean, what i mean is, he... If he really likes someone I think he wouldn't be able to be his... y'know... confident, jock, witty-remark-shooting self. If that, makes any sense."

"huh," Patton said after a moment of consideration. "Well that's possible. I don't really know honestly. I haven't spent a lot of time with the guy, and whenever i do he always seems to be that same confident person. Well, except with you, sometimes."

"Huh? Me? What?" Virgil was blatantly alarmed. Patton hadn't meant to cause this alarm, so he replied gently.

"Oh, no no kiddo, i just mean like... Y'know how you two are always sorta, bickering or debating or poking fun at each other?" Virgil nodded. "Well, I've just noticed, that sometimes when you make certain comments or whatnot, he sort of... Loses himself. His persona. It kind of falls away, and he seems sort of lost for words." Virgil looked even more alarmed than before. "I-I don't mean that that's necessarily because of you, I just, it's just the only time i have seen him react in that way and... I don't know. It probably happens with him all the time when I'm not around. Or whatever. I don't know. I'm sorry." Patton spoke so quickly that Virgil hardly heard each word. He was just trying to calm himself. Was it so obvious?

"Well." Was all he could muster in reply.

"Anyhow, I think I agree, at least that something seems a little off... I hope it is anyw-" Virgil trained his eyes on Patton. "I mean- I, uh, I-I don't know where that came from! I don't hope, that- I don't hope anything bad for either of them! I didn't- I didn't think, I just-"

"You just have a crush on Logan?" Virgil was still staring at Patton, mischief peeking around the edges of his pupils.

"Wuh-- What!!!" Patton couldn't say anything else; he just grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved his face into it. Virgil heard an indignant "no I don't" from the pillow as he put his hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"Patton, buddy. It's okay." Virgil just awkwardly patted the shoulder of Patton's balled up form.

"Does everyone know!?" He looked up finally, his nose running slightly. He wasn't crying, but even so, sometimes when he got emotional or embarrassed his cheeks turned deep rosy and his nose started running. Just another little quirk about him that Virgil always kept close to his heart.

"Well, it is plain as day," Virgil started while Patton's eyes seemed so somehow grow larger, "But Logan and Roman have no clue, as far as I can tell. Logan wouldn't know you liked him unless... well, unless you asked him on a date apparently," Virgil chuckled slightly, remembering the bizarre interaction between Roman and Logan on Monday. "And Roman is always too busy bothering Logan to pay attention to what you're doing," Virgil propped his chin up on one of his hands. "But objectively, it is pretty obvious."

Patton was deflated, blonde curls doing their best to bashfully cover his eyes now. He put his face back into the pillow on his lap. Virgil heard a muffled "I'm sorry."

"What? Why are you sorry?" Virgil rubbed his back now.

"I don't know. I'm sorry to Logan mostly. And to myself." His shrunken form shook slightly. Virgil hoped he wouldn't start crying.

"Ohhhh come on," Virgil awkwardly attempted to comfort him. "No one knows, and besides, it's no big deal. You'll be alright. Most likely, nothing will happen, and you can just eventually move on with your life. And heck, maybe you'll get your chance with him."

Patton's curls shook again as he looked up, eyes the size of the moon. "You really think so????" He asked in earnest. clear snot streams ran down from his nostrils and over his lips now, and his whole face was like a tomato. Virgil laughed airily.

"...It's always possible," he said almost under his breath. He wondered if he was reassuring himself or Patton more.

They sat in silence for a short moment, Virgil shaking his slender fingers through his vibrant purple bangs. I should re-dye my hair soon. The roots are starting to show.

"Wanna get some ice cream?" Virgil asked eventually. Patton's eyes lit up.

"Yeah! Did your mom get Grasshopper Pie again??? I love that stuff so much!" They got up off Virgil's bed together to head down the hall to the stairs.

"Actually, my mom tried making some herself this time," Virgil shut his bedroom door behind them.

"Ooh, really!?!?! I'm so excited to try it then!" Patton squealed, overjoyed as a small child would be. It was as if all of his troubles had dissipated like seeds in the wind. Another thing Virgil admired about Patton.

He hoped everything would be okay.

#ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts patton #patton sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #high school AU #Thomas Sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #slow burn #prinxiety #logicality #logan x patton #roman x virgil

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samanthalightning · 4 years

Text

She's Got A Date-EoWells X Allen!reader- Part I

*The GIF is not mine. All rights belongs to the owner*

Summary: You decided to cook for your secret boyfriend, but things did not go accordingly.

Warnings: Smut. Oral (fem!receiving)

***

Just a month ago, your brother woke up from a 9-month coma he was in. Everything has changed since December. The city mourned it's losses. Joe became more heavily into work, Iris is dating behind his back with Eddie. You graduated from school, you became an employee at S.T.A.R Labs despite of it's downfall. And you were also dating someone behind their backs.

5 more minutes before you're done for the day, you find yourself in the cortex, head laid back on the leather chair, spinning it while you stare at the ceiling. The boredom is not what's bothering you, it's the sweet torture of waiting. You've been excited since the day started, you managed to get through the whole day and a few more minutes is killing you.

Cisco entered the room, holding a tablet in his hand. He took a seat beside you and typed something on the computer.

"You okay, Y/N?" He asked.

"Yeah, just can't wait for this day to over,"

His head slowly turning his head to you, craning it to the side with narrowed eyes at you. "Miss Y/N Allen hurrying out of work? That's suspicious. You got a date?"

Your eyes went wide and jolted upright in your seat. "No!" You blurted loudly.

A perplexed look crossed his face, slightly taken a back with your reaction, as he was only teasing, but you actually thought he was onto you.

You blinked, the blood drained from your cheeks upon the realization of what you've done. You have to throw him off guard or else he'd be actually onto you, and all of the ridiculous excuses you've made will be all gone to waste. And he will kill you for actually spilling the beans without his consent.

You fiddled with the edge of the white sweater that Barry got for your graduation that he missed, as you rack your brain for a decent excuse. You stared at him for far too long, it was just seconds really, but you panicked and went along with whatever comes out of your mouth.

"I mean, I don't have a date, I'm not going out tonight or meet someone, or have dinner with anyone— I don't have a date!" You snapped.

"Okay, chill." He raised his hands up. "I was only teasing,"

You laughed nervously. "Cool,"

He turned back to whatever was he doing on the computer, still wholly confused on whatever was going on with you. You didn't say anything; you didn't trust yourself and your mouth. You checked your watch for time, and your shift officially ended. You picked your shoulder bag from the floor and slung it over your shoulder.

"Hey, I gotta go, Cisco. Bye, good night!" You jumped out of your seat, and picked up the messenger bag you have, slinging it over your shoulder.

"Good night." He watched you as hurriedly left the cortex, he can even hear you running down the hallway . He shakes his head and chuckles to himself; you were very obvious.

Just as you left, Dr. Wells wheeled into the cortex.

"Y/N already left, Cisco?" He asked.

Cisco nodded. "Yup. She got a date,"

You decided that you will cook tonight. You and your love haven't had a decent date night ever since Barry woke up from the coma with a newfound speed. And you never really went out for dinner like normal couples do. So if you can't go to a restaurant, you'll bring the restaurant to you.

Compared to Iris' cooking, you're basically a master chef, but compared to normal people's cooking, you weren't actually that good. But you decided that you will cook for dinner anyway. What's a little steak compared to a mechanical engineer who works for a team that kicks meta-humans' butts? If things go awry, pizza's the back-up plan.

With a steak that's overcooked, the potatoes and the salad barely even done, and you have spent an hour trying to make things go accordingly and you were on the verge of a mental breakdown, but on the bright side, the soufflé are done. Maybe you should've ordered pizza. It's not too late, he isn't here yet.

Abruptly, there was a knock coming from your door.

"No, no, no," you whispered, hurrying out of the kitchen to head for the door.

You opened the door, wishing that it wasn't him, only to be disappointed once you laid your eyes on him. He had a small smile on his face, looking at yourself. He did really take the whole dinner thing seriously, because you're cooking. In a fancy suit, he ditched the tie, and the two buttons were undone. He held a bottle of wine on his lap.

Your boyfriend, Dr. Harrison Wells.

"Hello,"

"Hey babe," you leaned down and gave him a peck on the lips, before stepping aside to let him in your small apartment.

You took the wine and placed it on your coffee table, slightly anxious as you stood behind him.

"You're early,"

He merely shrugged. "What's for dinner?" He asked, heading straight to the kitchen, eyeing everything on the counter.

Your face scrunched up, pressing your lips together, following behind him. "About that..." You watched, as his confusion settled on his face, his head tilted to the side, when he saw the food.

Your cheeks were warm in embarrassment, mentally cursing yourself for ruining everything.

"I may have slightly overcooked it. And I haven't cooked the sides," you explained, scratching your head.

You expected a reaction from him, dreaded it, actually, but he glanced up to you with this stoic, blank expression on his face. You can't read it; you don't know what's on his mind, is he disappointed? You have no idea, and it's infuriating, honestly.

Your shoulder slumped with a weary sigh and frowned, "Look, I'm sorry. I really tried, but I don't know what happened," you spoke softly. You still got no reaction from him, he only watched you intently, so you took it as a sign to continue, "I really want this to go perfectly, and it just... I'm sorry I disappointed you,"

That's when he took your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles, then planted his lips on it. "Come here." He patted his lap, gesturing you to sit on his lap.

You obliged. He rubbed his hands on your arms soothingly, comforting almost, as if he can sense the disappointment and frustration you feel for yourself.

"I'm not disappointed," he assured you, "I'm amused, actually,"

You whirled your head, facing him. You were surprised by his confession.

You blinked. "What?"

Now, his lips turned up a little bit. And you start to wonder how botching dinner and failing at doing a basic life skill is amusing as this doctor said.

"Well, I appreciated the gesture, even though it did not end well. You didn't have to do this, but thank you,"

You adjusted yourself on his lap, you put your head on his shoulder, you wrapped your arms around his neck. And he kissed your forehead, cradled your neck, coddling you protectively like you were a baby. Well, his baby.

"I really did want to make this special, you know? With all of what's happening— Barry, the metas— and the whole secret relationship is not helping. It's all happening so fast, and we didn't have time for ourselves," you rambled on.

"I know." His chest heaved. "It's okay. You tried,”

Silence seeped through the room. You felt safe and comfortable in his arms. You ran your thoughts, thinking how far you've come in your secret relationship and how intimate he'd become. He wasn't always like this, the kisses were awkward, so was holding hands. He was weird with affection; he wasn't used to it, exactly. You were like high schoolers dating. That built up a lot of tension, which paid off later.

Only 10 months ago, you were just an intern at S.T.A.R Labs. He's just the guy you worked for, he didn't know you existed, hell, you weren't even on his research team for the particle accelerator. Then Barry got struck by lightning and was in a coma, then he offered to help him, bringing him to S.T.A.R Labs. He was nice, he was assuring— he was there.

Although, you admit that you always had a crush on him, you considered it as merely admiring his works. Then something happened, something sparked between you two, and you realize that you're starting to have feelings for the man.

You pursued him. Man, he was hard to crack. He had a bunch of excuses. First, it was the 28 years age gap between you two; then it was his current condition; then ultimately, his new reputation in the city. It was like he's immune to temptation, but even steel can be bent. Two months of pining after him, he gave in. You may have snapped and confronted him and annoyed him in the process, but he gave in.

"Imagine, 6 months of dating and I never cooked for you," you said randomly.

"It was probably for the best," he quipped.

You both shared a laugh. Although you were a bit flushed. You started fiddling with the hem of your sweater again. As much as you want to stop, because you might ruin it, but it just feels nice when it brushes against the skin of your fingers.

"My mom was great in the kitchen," you began. Memories played on your head— memories of family dinners every night. It's a blur, but you remember how it felt; warm, inviting, happy— whole.

"Really?" You nodded.

"If she was here she'd be wondering how on earth am I her daughter." You chuckled.

"If she's here, she would be very proud of how incredible and smart you are,"

"Yeah?"

Wells exhaled. "Not with what you've done with the steak, but—" you didn't let him finish and swat his chest. He laughed a bit, much to your already abashed self.

"No, I meant it. She would have been very proud. It's a shame she never gets to see the woman you become," he said, as he tuck a strands of hair behind your ear.

You rolled your eyes, but you blushed. You admit, it was nice to hear it. If she can see you right now, you really wish she's proud.

He cupped your chin, lifting it to meet your eyes. "I love you," he said it like the first he said it: stern, yet with such emotions and meaning with it, it makes your heart sink. Only him can do that.

"I love you too," you replied, leaning into him.

You kissed him sweetly and tenderly. Even now, kisses from him make your stomach flips.

Moments like this in your relationship is what makes you all warm and fuzzy inside, it makes your heart flutter. He's a man of logic, of course his words and gestures were often minimal. But when he shows them, it's meaningful and beautiful and just sweet.

You pulled away, grinning ear-to-ear like an idiot.

"Do you want me to order some pizza?"

"I think we should skip dinner and head straight for desserts," you saw the smirk on his face, the glint in his eyes: dark and mischievous.

He leaned closer, slowly, inch by inch, as if torturing you, making your breath hitch. His breath fanned against your lips, his own was hair breadth away from you.

You knew exactly what this is leading to, but it wouldn't hurt to mess with him.

You tilted your head slightly, staring at his thin, pink lips, leading him to believe you're going for it, then pulled away, raising your eyebrows.

"The soufflé?" You inquired, pretending to be clueless. "I can get them if you want,"

You got off his lap, not even fully standing when his hands grabbed your waist and yanked you back down, and you let out a squeal in the process. He wrapped his arms around you locking you in. His hand cupped your cheek, before clashing his lips against yours.

Hungrily, he kissed you. You put your hand on his chest, as your lips moved against his, fighting his dominance, he moved his lips searingly, deepening the kiss that sends chills down your spine. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, and you open up your lips, allowing him entrance. It was the battle of tongue, which you lost, melting into him.

His hands roamed your back, then your waist, the edge of your curves, alighting a spark in your stomach. Your hands flew to his neck, clutching it.

You broke the kiss to catch your breath. Your heavy breath was seemingly dramatic compared to his. He didn't even break a sweat. You giggled, your head felt light and the room was spinning around, heart was racing. Damn. He's such a good kisser.

You shifted, straddling his lap, you put arms around your neck, reeling him back into the heated kiss. Your hips flicked, groans spilled from your lips. His lips moved to the nape of your neck, vigorously sucking on your sweet spot right there. You tried to suppress the moan in your throat, as his lips lowered down, nipping the skin of your collarbone. The last time you screamed, the neighbor slammed on the wall, complaining. Not having that again.

The need for him builds up in the pit of your stomach minute by minute, rocking your hips faster and faster against him, your own wetness growing. He untied the knot of your apron. He took it off your neck, throwing it to the side, before grabbing your face and capturing his lips again, not getting enough of it.

You took his jacket off of him, without breaking your lips, then your dainty fingers started unbuttoning his shirt skillfully. It was clearly unfair, so he started getting rid of your blouse as well. You discarded each other's top, until you were down to your bra, which he unclasped later on.

You gasped, as you felt your breasts were finally freed. The chilly air inside made your nipples harden. He admired your perky breasts, appreciatively, planting a kiss in between, you hummed involuntarily. His lips trailed closer and closer, he swirled his tongue around the nub teasingly and torturously. A hum wouldn't do anymore, you moaned in pleasure. Then suddenly, he ravished your nipples in his mouth, sucking on the nub, like fingers toyed with the other one.

Your fingers ran across the naked chest, to the taut of his shoulder, before delving in the bed of his locks, gripping them tightly, as he continued on, moving to the breast to give the same attention. He pinched it, bit it; he drove you wild with what he's doing with your nipples.

It's like someone started a fire in your bones; you're all hot and bothered.

He stopped kissing them, which made you whine for the loss of attention. He tugged your short, basically saying you needed to take them off, and you did, leaving you with only your panties on you.

His lustful eyes raked your naked body, as you stood before him, breathless. Your heart pounded in your ears, adrenaline rushing through your veins in excitement. You felt the ache between your legs, slowly feeling your panties dampening. God, you really need him.

He ran his hands on hips, trailing hot, open-mouth, wet kisses down your stomach, it made you bite your lip.

"Stunning. Just stunning," he whispered softly against your warm skin.

You blushed lightly at his comment. He liked making you blush. You realized that pattern back when Barry was in a coma. You'd stay and help out, he would just compliment you for whatever you tackled that day.

You let out a gasp, when he gripped your hips, lifting you off the floor, and placed you on top of the kitchen counter. You didn't expect such force from him. His fingers slipped through the bands of your panties, tugging them down antagonizing slowly. Such a tease.

He lowered his head in between your legs, as he spread them opening. His lips curved at the sight of your wetness, he took your leg and put over his shoulder, and began sucking on the soft skin of your leg, trailing up to your inner thigh. You felt his warm breath ghosting your inner thigh, kissing it, as his lips moved up and up to your womanhood, his fingers lightly trailed against it.

"Harry, please," you cried, screwing your eyes shut and bit your lips harshly.

Hearing your plea, he slowly licked a stripe, then closed his mouth over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your mouth hung open and you arched your back. Pleased with his work, he hummed, sending vibrations through your body.

"Oh, don't stop," you whined.

"Oh darling, I don't intend to," he said huskily, it ran shivers down your spine.

His tongue thrusted in and out of you, swirling around your clit, driving you to sweet ecstasy. You clampled the edge of the counter and mewled loudly, your hips locked up at the sensation.

Abruptly, a ring cut through the moment. Wells stopped, but upon realizing that it wasn't his phone, he carried on. Breathless, you pat the counter behind you, looking for your phone. Once you took a hold of it, you were going to reject it, seeing the caller ID, you turned to Wells.

"It's Cisco," you informed him.

You thought he didn't just hear you, distracted, so you told him again.

"Answer it,"

Your lips parted, "Wha—"

"Answer it," he repeated nonchalantly.

You can't believe that he's risking being caught. For someone who would scold you to keep your hands to yourself when you're out, this is surprising.

Extremely bewildered and aroused, and worried that something might have happened to Barry, you didn't argue and clicked to answer.

"Hey Cisco," you tried to steady your voice, but it wavered at the end, when he sucked your clit with vigor.

"Hey Y/N. You busy?"

Yup.

"Not so much. What's up?" you reply, panting.

Your breath stopped in your throat, you weren't able to register the next sentence Cisco said, when you felt Wells inserted a finger inside of you. His finger went in out of you, before adding another finger in. He scissored his digits inside, pumping in and out, looking for the sweet spot, while his thumb rubbed your clit roughly. If he keeps doing this you're not going to last.

You looked at him, mouth hung open. He gave a smug smirk, and licked your clit.

"Y/N? Can you hear me?" You almost forgot he was there.

Your arm fling to your face. Your teeth dug on your arm, squirming quietly, unable to handle the pleasure.

"Y/N!" Cisco yelled in your ears.

There's something arousing and bothering with this; the idea of getting caught while doing it, it's thrilling. But it's weird and you have embarrassed yourself enough.

"I'll call you back!" You gasped, pressing the button and basically threw your phone behind you.

Your hips quivered, locking him up in between. You felt the orgasm bubbling inside of you. You were so close.

"Harry, I need to—"

"No, not yet," he cut you off, his tone authoritative.

You whimpered in return, in need for release. He patted your thigh, gesturing you get off the counter. You hesitated, for you actually thought you would crumble if you got on your feet.

"Come on." His fingers flicked in gesture.

You know you can't sit on the counter forever; you haven't even cleaned it. You have to get off eventually, and slowly you planted your feet on the hardwood floor. You wobbled for a bit, but you grabbed onto him for support.

Your eyes met his dark ones. His hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it and threw it to the side. His pants and underwear followed suit, pooling at his feet. Your eyes wandered to his hardened member and you watched as he stroked it.

"Turn around," he ordered.

That ran chills through your body. You did what you were told. He guided your hands towards the counter, and placed it there. He held your waist, slowly bringing you down on his lap. Anxious to get him inside of you, you tried to sink down, he held you in place, growling at your impatience. He has a thing for taking time slow and being dominant, which you really didn't mind, but with high nearing, you were eager.

He lined himself up in your entrance, you even felt the tip of his length teasing you.

“Stop teasing,” you half-moaned and groaned.

"Say please,"

"Please, Harrison— I can't take it anymore. I need you," you cried.

“More,” he demanded.

“Please, I need you inside me. Please, babe. Please, I can't take it anymore,”

You felt him slowly entering inside. You let out shaky breath and you heard a raspy grunt from him. He stretched your walls, pain was present. You winced. It has been weeks since you’ve been this intimate, you almost forgot how it felt like.

“You okay?”

You nodded, biting your lips.

“Use your words,”

“Yes,” you panted.

He gave you a few moments to get accustomed to his member, before lifting you up to test the waters, starting a slow and gentle pace. You moaned loudly. It felt so good, he filled you up so good. Damn, you missed this. You clenched your walls, a guttural groan escaped his lips. His hand finds it's way to your breast, fondling with it.

“Harry, faster!”

He started picking up the pace, and finding the rhythm that suited him. He thrusted faster and harder, rocking your hips against his, hitting all the good spots, your toes curled in the process. You clamped the counter, knuckles turning white. You held on for dear life, as he took you from behind.

You couldn't keep the voices down anymore, and you couldn't care less about the neighbors anymore— grunts, moans, screams and pleads filled the room. You were a whimpering mess, crying his name and begging for more.

The overwhelming intensity of the pleasure washes over you. You were close, so, so close. You need to come.

“Harrison, please,” you begged weakly.

“Please what?” His voice is deep and raspy.

“Please, let me come,” you whimpered.

“Then come,”

He thrusted in you deeper. Tears pricking the corner of your eyes, desperate for your high. Then you felt it. Your clit pulses and walls clenched again. Eyes are closed, you arched your back and screamed. You screamed, as you came undone.

You thought he would stop, but he didn't. Instead, he gripped your hips tighter, pretty sure that's going to leave an imprint behind. He slammed your hips down on him, thrusting deeply and roughly.

He took you from behind with, until he met his high he felt his own pleasure washing over him. You felt spurts of warm liquid inside of you. Thank God for your pills or else Joe would kill you. Being an adult doesn't make being pregnant less scarier. Especially if your adoptive father is a cop, and your brother is a superhero.

His pace started getting sloppy and slow. You lean back to him, your back meets the skin of his chest, warm and sticky with sweat. Your bodies glistened with sweat.

Short breaths escaped from your parted lips. He trailed sloppy kisses on your shoulder, wrapped his arms around your waist, still not pulling out of you.

You were so dizzy, exhausted, overwhelmed and just happy. You truly missed being with just him and right now, you couldn't be more content in his arms.

"Round 2?” You challenged, panting with a grin plastered on your face.

He didn't reply, but you saw the corner of his lips tugged up. Next thing you know, the wheelchair was moving, heading to the direction of your bedroom.

Part II

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milkybunbuns · 4 years

Text

ii. battles → perfection masterlist → next → previous

w/c: 1.9 K

warnings: spoilers for season 1 episodes 6 and 7

a/n: I moved the basic hero training part to morning because I realised half way through it happened in the afternoon and I was too lazy to change everything 😅

A brand new day, which meant a brand new day of school. You wouldn’t even be surprised if today there would be another test and just unluckily for you, Hawks was nowhere to be seen in the morning, leaving you with no food (the fridge was empty) and there was no time to go shopping considering you were running late. Home school was kinda nicer, you could wake up whenever you want, learn whenever you want and train whenever you want, but sometimes it did get a little bit boring.

Sliding the door open quietly, you slid through the smallest opening possible and settled down in your seat, All Might completely oblivious to the fact that you had just walked in, 7 minutes late, however, it clearly didn’t go unnoticed by Iida. You watched as he raised his arm, panicking internally and waving your hands crazily at him, trying to signal him, no. Yet he paid no mind to you. Grrr, Iida!! Way to blow my sneaky entrance smh.

“Yes young Iida?”

“I’m sorry for disrupting the class, but I would like to point out that L/n-san has entered the classroom late and being part of UA, it is expected that all students should be on time”, he pointed at you, exposing you as everyone turned their heads towards you.

You heard whispers of ‘huhh, who’s that?’, ‘I didn’t see her’, ‘Is she new?’, which brought a lot of embarrassment upon yourself.

“It’s not very nice to whisper about someone in front of them kero”, Tsuyu, spoke up, which stopped all the whispers.

Iida stood up and bowed an almost perfect bow to All Might, “I’m sorry All Might for the discrepancy, please continue.”

“Right!”, the no.1 hero sweat dropped, “Please put on your costumes and meet me at Ground B”, he pressed a button on a remote, the wall somehow magically producing cases which held individual costumes based on requests. You grabbed your case, which was labelled no.9, looking around for Tsuyu so you thank her properly for standing up for you. Her green hair was pretty easy to spot, as you rushed to her.

“Oh hi L/n-san!”, she waved at you with her free hand, still keeping a fast pace.

“Hi Asui-san, thank you so much for standing up for me, I would’ve been a gonner without you.”

“It’s no problem at all and call me Tsuyu.”

“Alright Tsuyu, I was wondering if you’d like to be friends with me?”

“Of course! It’d be my pleasure kero”, okay phew it would’ve been so embarassing if she said no sjoakpa.

Everyone met outside, after changing into various hero costumes. Some looked out right ridiculous, Mineta’s was a great example for sure, while some looked really good and you couldn’t help but be in awe at Ochaco’s costume. It had a really nice colour palette consisting of pink, white and black and fitted her quirk really well.

“Ochaco!”, you waved her over, from where she was standing with Deku, quickly examining his hero costume, you noticed that the teeth looked a bit strange and he kinda looked like a bunny though it was clearly meant to be All Might style.

“Hi Y/n!!”, Ochaco smiled bouncing up and down excitedly, “This is so exciting! Our first hero training class!!”

“Yeah, I guess it is. Your costume is really cutee~”

She scratched the back of her neck sheepishly, “Thanks, but I honestly didn’t expect this to be skin-tight.”

“It’s good for your quirk and easier to manoeuvre around with a tight suit rather than a loose suit. We don’t want you accidentally making yourself float in a battle.”

“Oh yeah, of course, that would be pretty bad. But I love your costume, it’s really bright though, wouldn’t that be bad for stealth?”

“That’s why I’ve already figured out what I want to be. If or when I become a hero, I’m going to be a daylight hero.” Your costume was almost all white, but it also had bits of f/c with it. It consisted of white combat boots lined with stars in f/c near the soles, as well as 3/4 length leggings and a skin-tight top which was able to help cool you off. In terms of gadgets, you had heatproof f/c gloves, a utility belt which contained ice cubes in a small thermos, bandages, a small bottle of water. Other than those, you had a heatproof visor on your face. (Feel free to imagine up your own costume)

“Wait, you’ve already thought so far ahead, we still have 3 years here tho!”

“Well, maybe I’ll change my thoughts along the way, but lets listen to All Might before we get called out.”

“Right.”

It turned out you were put in team I, along with an invisible girl, who had introduced herself as Hagakure and a tail boy who was called Ojiro.

“Okay, Hagakure, you should go scout for them and me and Ojiro will protect the bomb.”

“On it!”, and she was soon out of the room, discarding her clothes in one of the many rooms to become completely invisible. The extra time for the villains was over and before you could begin anything, ice quickly made it’s way to your feet, trapping both you and Ojiro in the ice.

Ojiro pressed a finger to his ear pierce, “Hagakure! Where are you what’s the situation?”

“The Todoroki guy has frozen the whole building and he’s coming to the room right now!”

“Okay, I’ll get us out of this”, you activated your quirk, hands quickly heating up as you let them hover over your feet, the temperature enough to melt it off. Thanks to Todoroki, the whole room was cold, so you could freely use your quirk without overheating, but the negative to this was you could only use up any stored energy from before, since it was almost pitch-black in this room. The door slammed over before you could free Ojiro, revealing Todoroki, who seemed slightly surprised that you were free. He still had no clue how your quirk operated and what it did exactly.

“So,Todoroki-kun? You after this?”, you grabbed the bomb which was still coated in a thick layer of ice and ripped it right out of the ground, allowing a pair of wings to form on your back. He raised his right foot, slamming it down to create a large scale ice attack which you avoided easily, flying out of the window and onto the rooftop where your quirk could operate freely and without end, until your body temperature gets too hot.

Todoroki followed the particles of light out, creating his own path of ice, but by the time he arrived, you already had the bomb safely sitting on the other side of the roof, now instead of being coated with ice, being coated with light energy, which was hot to the touch and melted the ice. Wordlessly, he sent an ice attack towards you, hoping to knock you out to remove the barrier around the bomb. Well he knew it’d know you out, he knew his ice side was powerful. So when you rushed from behind the glacier, sending a ball of light towards him, he was shocked to say the least, but still dodged it.

“If you haven’t figured out by now, your ice only helps me. Using ice attacks is useless, to defeat me, you’ve gotta use your fire side.”

Todoroki frowned, “I can defeat you with just ice, no matter how powerful you are.”

“Hm?”, you arched an eyebrow then shrugged, “Alright, sure.” You created a few more light balls just enough so they were surrounding you, “Say bye then”, you sent them all at once, controlling them to follow Todoroki like guiding missiles. He quickly created a cube like shape of ice around himself, the ice shattering into pieces leaving him unscathed except for a few scratched form the shards which pierced him.

A glacier, larger than the others before raced towards you, and you thought quickly, covering the space around you with light energy which melted all the ice.

“Your quirk relies on light doesn’t it, so what if you run out of it”, Todoroki pointed out, now the rooftop was encased with a thick layer of ice all the way around which was too much for you to melt through without wasting all the energy you had saved. “And even though ice helps keep your body cold, how much of it can you handle before your body starts to get frostbite. My body was made to be able to withstand these temperatures, but yours is made to withstand heat.”

He could already see that you were shivering, your costume didn’t provide much warmth at all, since you simply assumed you would always be too hot rather than cold.

“No way am I letting you win”, you said through clenched teeth, if there was one thing you hated, it was losing. In your palms you held bits of light energy to keep you warm, but you knew you couldn’t keep this up forever, you had to think and act quickly. Your eyes darted around the ice room, all that was there was you, Todoroki and the bomb. Of course! The bomb! The bomb was still covered with light energy. You grabbed onto the bomb, burning your hands in the process, but still managing to throw it at the ice, the heat melting through the ice to create a hole out. At that moment, you realised you had been baited. Todoroki knew you could withstand the heat of your own light energy better than he could and made it so you had no choice but to use the energy form there which got rid of the layer so he could get the bomb. You watched in horror as he reached towards the bomb and in panic, you sent one towards his hand which was badly aimed and went over his arm instead and into the ice walls.

You lunched forwards, even though you knew there was no way you could make it to him in time, as he touched the bomb, signalling the heroes win. Placing his left hand on the floor, everything was melted off. You were shivering from the cold, frost forming along your body. He took notice and felt just a bit bad, and got permission from all might to take you to the nurse’s office. After all, a hero’s role was to save.

You got on the bed, rubbing your arms to try and get warmth, recovery girl’s quirk couldn’t help you warm up since it wasn’t really an injury.

“Here, I’ll warm you up”, Todoroki stated bluntly holding out his left hand.

“R-right thanks”, you chattered, trying to fit both of your hands in his, which were extremely warm, but not too hot. After a few moments of awkward silence, with him staring at you, you let go. “Thanks for the help, but I think I can warm up myself from here on.”

“Alright L/n-san, but I have proven that I can defeat you with only my right side. I will not need my left side to defeat you.”

His words left you thinking for a while, he only required half his strength to take you out, which meant you still had miles to improve. When you got third in the quirk apprehension test, you thought you were pretty good, but you never noticed the difference in power between you and Todoroki till now. Training was definitely needed.

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tagged: @dyna-m1ght

#todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #mha todoroki #bnha shoto todoroki #todoroki x y/n #bnha todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki #todoroki shoto #bnha #mha #boku no academia #my hero academia

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