#its a tiny bit confusing on some parts but...i really do like this job!!!

[lilac-melody]

Tomorrow marks my 6th day working at my new job and Monday will be my 7th/weekiversary....

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (17/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: That's definitely not the goodbye you wanted.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, swear words

Word Count: 3.3k

series masterlist

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A/N: sorry for this shitty chapter and sorry for keeping you waiting! feedback is appreciated! love ya.

It's not long before Charles falls asleep next to you. 

You hear his soft breathing, the way the bedspread rustles as he slides his arm under the pillow and bends his right knee. Apparently he's lying on his stomach, snuggled tightly in the warmth of the bed you'll share for the second and last time. 

That Charles has grown so close to your heart in exactly three days is something you would never have thought was possible in your life.

After Raphael cheated on you and your friends let you down, you vowed to take better care of yourself and your heart and never let anyone into your life so easily again. You resigned yourself to the fact that you would spend the next time alone until you could put your trust in someone again. And that had been perfectly fine with you, as long as it had kept further pain at bay.  

But the brunette Monegasque, without making any particular effort, has walked into your life as if God personally had opened the gates for him, and has taken up residence with you as if he were a virus that is taking you over completely. 

You turn away from him, but you can still feel the warmth of his body through the many layers of fabric that lie between you. 

The fact that he will spend the next few days in Italy is a good start to building the wall that will keep your heart from great harm. It will create some distance between you, buy you more time in which to figure out your feelings. And if it really comes down to you feeling more than simple friendship for your roommate, you'll still have plenty of time to think of some way to handle the situation. 

You're about to press your face into your pillow so it can stop the whirlwind of thoughts in your head when your cell phone lights up. 

Lando: Did you know that the Eiffel Tower is about six inches taller in the summer than in the winter?

Confused, but grinning, you glance at the screen. It's the middle of the night - why is he sending you such a strange message at this late hour?

You cast a glance over your shoulder to make sure Charles is actually asleep before releasing the key lock, lowering your phone's brightness to its lowest setting, and starting to type. 

You: Didn't know that. Why is that?

The "seen" with the little checkmark appears directly under your sent message, and a few moments later the typical three dots that appear when a reply is composed flash. 

Lando: Due to thermal expansion, meaning the iron heats up, the particles gain kinetic energy and take up more space.

You have to smile, even suppress a giggle. 

You: You googled that for sure. 

Lando: You got me. I didn't know the best way to start a conversation. 

You: I'd say the middle of the night is generally not a good time to start a conversation. What if I had already been asleep?

Lando: Then you would have woken up confused for sure and blocked me right after the message. 

You: Then you're lucky I'm still awake. 

Lando: I'm definitely lucky. 

Behind you, Charles moves a little, but doesn't seem to wake up. You feel him scoot a tiny bit closer to you, as if he realizes you're still awake. 

Lando: Have you ever been to Paris?

You: Unfortunately not. I'd like to go there sometime, though. And you?

Lando: I've been there before. Maybe we can go there together? Then I can show you the most beautiful places. 

You have to grin. Straightforward guy he is. 

You: Do you really think I would just travel to Paris with a semi stranger?

Lando: You're right about that. But that can easily be changed. You and me, tomorrow, dinner at 8?

You feel Charles rest his hand on your bedspread. It's like he subconsciously realizes you're about to go out with one of his friends. He exhales deeply, but doesn't move any further. 

You: That was very smooth, Mr. Norris. 

Lando: So is that a yes?

Without giving it much thought, you answer the Brit with a "Yes, I'd love to," whereupon he responds with a "Great. I'll get back to you tomorrow. Don't stay up too late and sleep well" back. You press the key lock on your phone and put it back next to your pillow. 

Time you do have. Charles isn't around, and you don't have a job to go to every day, so your days are as free as the beach in winter. And for sure it will do you good to spend time with someone other than the Monegasque. Lando is nice and friendly and funny. And since the two of you don't live together, and the level at which you're getting to know each other is much more superficial than the one Charles and you are on right now, you shouldn't be in danger of taking him to your heart as quickly as your roommate.

Who by now has moved so close to you that you can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. It's steady, coming in waves and brushing your skin like a warm summer breeze. For sure he is sleeping well, maybe even having a nice dream. He doesn't even know yet that it's the last time he'll sleep next to you.

You close your eyes, almost press your eyelids together and force yourself to fall asleep. With the ulterior motive that the person who is dearest to you right now is exactly the one with whom you will soon have to keep the most distance.

-

Something rustles. 

The sound is close, but not so close that it could find its origin right next to your ear. It also sounds muffled, as if there is a thick piece of soft cotton between the sound and your eardrum, so you can't really hear what exactly is making that sound. 

You press your face a little deeper into the pillow. 

The rustling becomes louder. 

Tired and with your eyes closed, you pull the blanket higher to your chin to cling to sleep. And for a brief moment it works, your mind slips back into a gentle slumber - until you hear a loud, unmistakable rumble. 

Annoyed and above all confused, you open your eyes. Your cell phone reads 6:15 a.m. Who's making that kind of noise at this hour?

You sit up abruptly, as if you've been electrocuted, and the covers fall into your lap. Charles.

For sure he is packing up the last things before he wants to wake you up. To say goodbye to you. You're surprised you didn't hear his alarm clock. For sure he only rang it once briefly before your roommate turned it off so it wouldn't wake you up. Very kind and considerate. 

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and slip into fuzzy socks so your feet don't freeze. As you tie your hair so it doesn't look like you've touched an electrical socket, you hear keys jingle. 

Charles wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to you, would he?

Hesitantly, you go to the door of the room and open it slowly to make sure he's still there. And indeed, he hasn't left the apartment yet. 

But he has shouldered his travel bag, his feet are in shoes, and the apartment door is open, as if he is about to take the first step out. When he hears you, he turns around. 

Confused and still slightly sleepy, you stand in the doorway. You point your finger at the large bag. "Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?" you ask him, rubbing the heels of your hands over your eyes. Damn, it's definitely too early to be awake. 

Your roommate steps unsteadily from one foot to the other. "I didn't mean to wake you." In his free hand, he holds his key. 

You screw up your face. "But you wanted to say goodbye." You cross your arms in front of your chest. "You said you'd set an alarm so you could get up on time and we could say goodbye properly."

The situation is strange. You're standing in the doorway to the room where Charles shared a bed with you, as he stands on the threshold that separates this apartment from the rest of the world. It feels like he's trying to escape from what's happening inside these four walls. Like he can't wait to leave and leave you here. 

He doesn't even want to say goodbye to you. 

"I know, but-" he begins, but doesn't seem to know how to finish the sentence, which is why he just falls silent. His gaze wanders from your face to the room behind you before he lowers it to his shoes. He swallows once before looking at you again. "Can we talk about this another time?" he asks quietly. "I have to go."

What happened in the last few hours you were asleep? Did you do something to make him want to run away from here? To want to flee from you? The way he's standing there, he seems like he can't wait to finally leave the apartment. As if he had to quickly put as many kilometers as possible between you. 

The fact that he doesn't want to talk to you about it unsettles you more than you'd like to admit.

When you were with Raphael, there were many arguments, after which you both went to bed without clearing up the situation or talking things out. That oppressive, stomach-churning feeling was so devastating and caused such nausea in you that you told yourself that you will never again let an argument or difficult situation just stand.

You don't want to go to bed angry. And you don't want anyone to go to bed angry and mad at you either. 

"Did I do something?" you ask, letting your arms, which were crossed just a moment ago, fall to your sides. As a sign that you're ready to face whatever may follow. "Talk to me, please, Charles."

Of course, neither of you would go to sleep now. But the very thought that you won't see each other again for another four days, and thus parting, leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. Which you naturally want to get rid of as quickly as possible. 

Demonstratively, he glances at his wristwatch. "I don't have time. Let's talk about it another time."

"It's 6:25. I thought you didn't have to leave until 7?"

He clenches his teeth. "I want to drive now." He's visibly tense, his hand almost tightening around the key. Charles doesn't want to drive. He wants to run. From you. And you don't know why. 

Somewhere inside you, a small crack is opening up, uncomfortable, pressing on the pit of your stomach. Your discomfort worsens with each passing moment. 

"What have I done?" you try again to get him to talk. You cross the room until you're standing in front of him. "Whatever it was - I'm sorry. I don't know what it is that I could have done that upset you so much. But I don't want you to leave now and be mad at me when we won't see each other again for another four days. Let's talk about it. Please."

It's almost pathetic how desperate you sound. Your voice trembles like it's going to break at any moment, and you can feel tears gathering in your eyes. You try to blink them away. 

There have been countless situations like this with Raphael. It was always you who wanted to solve an argument. The one who tried harder. Who sacrificed more. And it has brought nothing. 

Even though you two have only known each other for a few days, this argument is much worse. Because you don't know what you have done, and therefore you can't change anything. You can't find a solution here. 

Charles doesn't seem to care that you are on the verge of crying. His gaze is hard and cold as he looks down at you. He looks at you as if you were a stranger just standing in his apartment.

As you reach out to him, he takes the last step over the threshold. The small crack inside you grows larger, now seems to have reached your heart, forming a great chasm. The wall that has been built so far has been of no use. It is completely useless. 

"If you really want to talk to someone, why don't you talk to Lando?" His tone is icy and his gaze sprays venom. 

Lando?

Charles seems to have picked up on your confused look. Annoyed, he rolls his eyes, which stings you further. "Now don't act like that. He texted me in the middle of the night asking what culinary cuisine you prefer for your dinner tonight." He raises an eyebrow. "And here I thought you'd already had an extensive conversation about it. What was it again? Canned soup and BigMac?"

Your discomfort gives way to an even more rotten feeling. Anger spreads through you like a wildfire you can't stop it. How dare he?

"What are you trying to say?" you ask calmly, even though everything is burning inside you. Charles interfering in this matter when he has no right to do so makes your anger spill over, but you know better than to take it out on him directly. You pull yourself together. Even though you'd like to strangle him, you don't want you two to fight. 

"Come on, Y/N." His smile is spiteful and ugly - even though he's the most beautiful man on the planet. "We both know he's just trying to fuck you. So what's the point of dinner? It's just a waste of money."

Excuse me?

"What do you mean?"

He seems to think for a moment, as if he were struggling with himself to say the next words. "After all, what Raphael did to you doesn't seem to bother you much if you're going to date someone new right away. And you said yourself yesterday that you weren't going to meet anyone on this couch." He extends his free arm and waves it in a semicircle in front of him. "Let's do it, then. Monaco is full of rich men. Then you don't exactly have to hook up with one who's my friend."

Never in your entire life have you wanted to smack someone so badly as Charles at this moment. 

He knows what Raphael did to you. And he also knows why your ex cheated on you. The fact that he now assumes that you would just jump into bed with Lando like that upsets you so much that you're at a loss for words. 

You don't recognize him. The Charles who lets you stay with him for free, who makes you laugh, and who is so close to you at times that you have to consider how to protect your heart, has dropped off the face of the earth. 

Opposite you is a mean and ruthless man you can't get away from fast enough. His words hit you harder than any blow could, and the tears in your eyes no longer originate in discomfort, but in pure rage. 

You don't care what you did to make him act this way. You don't care what exactly happened between you that caused this argument to degenerate like this. And you don't care if you go to bed tonight mad at him. 

This argument is different than the one over his phone call with Raphael or the one at dinner with his friends. It's too close, too personal, and for Charles to think of you that way, after everything you've told him about yourself, chokes your throat and makes your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. 

"You can have the apartment," you say emotionlessly. Your fire is extinguished, your anger is suffocated. The only thing left is a dull feeling of grief. 

How could you think Charles would be any different? That he would actually be a friend to you? You even showed him your favorite place. That wasn't even twelve hours ago. 

"When you come back, I'll be gone." Your gaze is fixed on Charles, letting him know how serious you are. Something flashes in his eyes, but whatever it is - you don't care. "I hate you."

Without waiting for an answer, you close the apartment door. As you turn around, you feel like an intruder in your own home. 

Which, theoretically, isn't even your home. It's Charles' home, it's his apartment. He's just been nice and let you stay with him. And he didn't do that because he saw a friend in you, but because he felt sorry for you, as you must now realize. 

Did this "good deed" make him feel better? Did he let you stay here to prove to himself what a good guy he is after everything with Annika? Is he really that selfish? 

Who exactly is Charles Leclerc?

You would like to leave the apartment immediately, because there is nothing that doesn't make you remember Charles. The couch reminds you of the evening when you drank wine and watched Cars. The kitchen table is where you eat pain au chocolat and croissants. The bathroom is where you grin at each other in the mirror as you brush your teeth. Charles is everywhere. 

He's especially in the dark bedroom, too, when you return to lie down in bed. His sheets are still where you found them when you woke up, and his smell is all over the room, making it hard for you to breathe. 

Pulling your own blanket up to your chin, you lie there staring at the ceiling, racking your brain as to where exactly you took a wrong turn. But for the life of you, you can't think of anything. 

You turn on your side and take a deep breath. Charles' smell hits your nose and only now, surrounded by darkness and silence, do you allow yourself to cry. Tears roll down your skin and one sob after another escapes your sore throat, which feels as if it has been laced shut. Your body shakes like it's electrified and somewhere inside you think your heart has stopped beating. 

The person you trusted the most has let you down. Your closest friend has dropped you without explaining himself to you. 

But that's not what hurts so indescribably. 

It hurts so much because it's Charles. The Charles you saw as your best friend after only a few days. The Charles who didn't judge you. 

You slide to the other side of the bed and slip under Charles' covers so that you are now completely enveloped in his smell. You feel so close to him, even though he's so far away, and even though the warmth feels like a hug, you feel lonely. You cling to that hug that isn't a hug, because that's the closest thing you have left of him. 

Tomorrow you would look for another apartment, maybe even move away from Monaco. And then you would pack your things and leave, just like you promised Charles. And you wouldn't break that promise - that deal, the way he broke his. 

Not long ago, you didn't want to share the bed with him anymore, braced yourself for it to be the last time you'd be this close. You wanted to build the wall that would protect, should protect your heart. 

But it's no use building a wall when your heart hasn't been yours for a while.

next part

[primofate]

A Shot in The Dark (Chapter 2) Wriothesley x fem!reader

Summary: As the upcoming Weapons Master of the town, you've started to take more responsibilities in your father's shop. Little did you know that taking up this job would cause you to get thrown into the messy world of criminals and the messy world of confusing feelings for the Duke of Meropide.

Warnings: blood and talks about the use of blood for something unconventional, some might find it disturbing.

Read other parts: Chapter 1

Wriothesley didn’t show up.

Not the day after, nor the day after that.

At first you wondered if he was thoroughly offended by you not remembering who he was, but on second thought, he didn’t really seem like the type of guy to be offended by someone—especially you—not remembering his name.

And so the days passed by normally, the usual number of customers, the usual number of people walking in and asking general questions about weapons and the like. No sign of Wriothesley, nor any other “celebrity”.

It was a week after meeting the Duke that the shop door nearly flew off its hinges and in came a man with a sword strapped on his back.

You took one look at him—scraggly beard, mid 40s, head of hair that was somewhat long, but tied back into a small tail—and was immediately transported to a conversation with your father.

“We usually don’t judge books by its covers, Y/N, but you’ll know when to deny service to someone,” your father exclaimed, magnifying glass in one hand, pointed at a piece of metal.

You purse your lips at the statement, watching him quietly, until you had to ask. “What do you mean? How would I know if they were good or bad people? There’s no way to tell in such a short amount of time,”

Your father muses a bit, a slight hum emanating from his chest. He puts the magnifying glass down and meets your gaze. “Sometimes, your instincts just know, my dear,” he smiles a tiny one. “Our talent of fixing any weapon in existence may be a mundane skill…but weapons are powerful things Y/N! There are times where we have to stop and think, will I be doing the right thing if I fix this?”

“Good afternoon,” the man speaks and you blink back to present day. He stands confident in front of the counter and pierces you with his gaze. There is nothing inherently wrong with how he looked, but you could tell he wasn’t from Fontaine, and there was a strange feeling of anxiety trying to surface from the bottom of your stomach.

Instinct, huh?

You smile at the man. “Good afternoon,” you reply, eyes darting up to the hilt of his sword, peeking behind his back. “How can I help you today?”

The man moved with a type of grace and fluidity that told you he was no ordinary citizen. He most likely had been wielding a sword for years. His hand came up to the hilt of his sword and he pulled at it until it came off its scabbard, revealing that the blade was a blood red colour.

You controlled a shiver that ran up your spine as the man laid the peculiar looking sword on the counter. On closer inspection, the hilt was a deep purple. And the blade was a natural red colour—for a moment you thought that it had been dipped in blood—it was, to your knowledge, a katana, and a very beautiful albeit uniquely coloured one. The wear and tear was visible and you knew that this weapon was most likely centuries old. You dare not to touch it.

“What’s wrong with it?” You simply ask, prying your eyes away from the weapon and towards the man.

The man doesn’t show any sign of disappointment nor worry. “It’s not as strong as it previously was,” he explained. “I assume it needs a bit of refinement,”

A bit, was an understatement. It needed A LOT of refinement. It was an old blade, anyone could see that, weapons master or not. Your hands hovered above it and you ask, just as you always do “May I?”

Your hand inched closer as the man nodded and you took time to run your hand over the entirety of the sword. It had…a lot of ill intent. How you could tell, you weren’t quite sure. It was not wholly about its colour, but its aura, and how heavy and tired it looked.

“…I’m sorry, I can’t fix this,”

It’s time for this blade to rest.

You never thought that you would decline someone of service, it just didn’t seem like something that would happen.

“Do you know of Dendrobium flowers?” The man’s voice is rather low, but still smooth and somewhat friendly.

You blink up at him, taken aback by the sudden topic change. “…I can’t say I do,”

He talks, and while he talks he tries to retrieve something from his rucksack. “Dendrobium. A rare and expensive plant, found in Inazuman soil,” he takes a small box and opens it, revealing a blood red flower that you’ve never seen in your life before. “Rumor has it that these plants are watered using blood,”

There’s a small pause. A moment for you to internalize the information he just shared, and you were sure now, that there was something strange going on with your customer.

“…Mmhmm,” you let out quietly with a small nod, not knowing what else to say, feeling the atmosphere in the shop grow colder.

“The bloodier and more brutal the battlefield, the more lovely the Dendrobium blooms,” he closes the box, and hands it over to you. “Consider it, a gift,” he takes his blade in his hand and stretches it out for you to see clearly. “This here, is Muramasa… and the only way to fix him…is to refine him with Dendrobium ore,” He sheathes the katana onto his back and levels his gaze back towards you. “…but, it’s been centuries, since anyone has seen a Dendrobium ore. People say that the Dendrobium flowers crystallize when it’s been watered with enough blood…and yet I haven’t seen a single Dendrobium ore in my life,”

You stay silent, merely letting him finish his story.

“Well then, ma’am, I’ll be on my way. My thanks, for taking a look at Muramasa,” he tips his head forward, turns, footsteps towards the door, pulls it open and he pulls it close again as he leaves.

You stand still, the flower box in your hand. You wait a few minutes before you can completely feel yourself relax back into your normal state—you hadn’t even realized that you had been tense the whole time—and your eyes drop back to the small black box.

…Does he know? I’ll have to tell father about this…

And just as you always do with your other customers, you try to replay the interaction back in your head, to see if you missed anything or if you said anything wrong. The next customer didn’t come in until lunch time, so you were thankful that you had time to unpack your interaction with the strange man whose name you didn’t get.

The more you thought about it, the stranger it had been, or perhaps he was merely an eccentric? Still, it was completely unnecessary to tell a long-winded story about the Dendrobium…what was his purpose?

“You look out of sorts today,” A smug, familiar voice echoes through the shop. Wriothesley is suddenly there, you hadn’t even heard the door open nor the bell ring.

“Oh, Wriothesley,” you absentmindedly let out, snapping out of thought, eyes adjusting to the view in front of you rather than staring off into space. “Welcome back,” you give a small smile, which has the man a little suspicious.

He thought you were just tired, and maybe hungry, it is lunch time after all, but on closer inspection Wriothesley was conscious of the deeper frown lines you wore. Something as subtle as that, he would notice. Having a good eye for detail was one of his job descriptions.

“Ah, she finally remembers my name,” He takes a jab at you, grin appearing on his features. You can’t help the upward tug of your lips, and refrain from rolling your eyes. You don’t get to retort back because he follows up almost immediately: “Something happen?” He has his gauntlets tucked under his arm yet again, his frame seems taller today, or perhaps you were just feeling small after your weird interaction with your earlier customer.

“…Nothing for you to worry about,” You give a real smile this time, eyes darting over to his gauntlets. “Just…mulling over some fixes,”

It was convincing to the normal person, but to Wriothesley, it was a good attempt at diverting his attention from the real problem. Nevertheless, he didn’t push it, and set his gauntlets down on the counter for you. “Brought these back… I would’ve been back earlier but things happened at the Fortress…” he chuckled under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck as if he had done something disappointing.

The sight made you raise an eyebrow in amusement, mouth turning up the slightest bit more. He seemed to have a talent for making people feel at ease. “That’s nothing to apologize for, it’s your job,” your hands rest on his gauntlets, remembering the exact fix that it needed. “I say I’ll be done with this in 3 hours. You can come back for it right around then,”

He made a sound of understanding watching you start to take tools out to finish up the work. Wriothesley seemed to pause for a moment, his weight shifting from his left to his right. “You’re not getting lunch?”

You shake your head no, “I tend not to get hungry when I’m busy…or I guess I get too occupied with things and forget to eat,”

He again indicated that he heard you with a slight hum, but adds “…Well I’m reminding you now. Café Lutece is just down the road from here,” he points his thumb behind him. You look up to blink at him, your mind blank for a moment.

Was he asking you to eat with him or was he telling you to eat by yourself? You weren’t quite sure and you were stuck about what to say, until he made it clearer to you.

“Come on, I haven’t eaten either.” He jerked his head towards the shop door, indicating that he was about to go, and it sounded like he wasn’t going to offer again.

“Mm…” You think aloud, loosening your hold on the screwdriver in your hand. “I…guess I could go,” you decide, and its as if he relaxes the slightest bit more, waiting for you to walk around the counter, then walking ahead to hold the shop door open for you.

As you lock the shop up for lunch, you turn to him when done, somehow completely forgetting about your strange customer earlier, pointing a finger up to make a point “Lunch break is one hour max, otherwise, I’m charging you a late fee!”

Wriothesley chuckles, “and I thought I was a hard worker,” as the two of you walk together towards the restaurant down the road.

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 4]

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 6.7k

Summary: 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon.'

🌶️Obligatory Warning for Some Descriptions of Violence & Mild Suggestive Content

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

As detestable as they were, at the very least your assailants were well organized.

You were plopped neatly at the center of the room, in a very conspicuous location that would have made it difficult for a hypothetical someone to, say, just flat-out torch everything in sight without also catching his very tiny, mortal, companion up in said firestorm.

The group of them split off to tend to their tasks with a frankly shocking level of competence and foresight. Was this how adventurers were actually supposed to work? They didn’t just—I don’t know—saunter into an abandoned castle on a whim and a prayer, with no real end goal in sight and nothing but the perpetual bounding of a singular, shared, braincell to keep them on their toes? There was a plan? What was this madness.

“How much time do you think we have?” one of them called, busy working to set up some sort of wire trap that, in your humble ‘I have faced this legendary dragon and survived’ opinion, looked like it would do exactly diddly squat.

“Enough,” the Elf Wizard shrugged, thin arms crossed tight across his equally gaunt chest. “These vermin don’t have the same concept of time as we do. It may return soon, but we may also be waiting hours.”

Hours? Hours? You fought the urge to groan. And then remembered it hardly mattered if you did or not, because you were still trapped in a bubble of perpetual Silence, and that just made you want to groan louder.

Assumed-Rogue nodded tersely in response and continued constructing his pseudo-trap. The long, red, stripes of his sleeves were odd things—very in-your-face bold for a dude whose job you assumed it was to slip through shadows unseen. But then you noticed that the threads he was spinning were pooling from those slashes of crimson, and alright, that was fairly cool. ‘Your failure of a stealthy design gets a pass this time, good sir.’

“You’re certain this is one of the Briar Beasts, Lord Flamm?” Armored Lady piped in, busy shifting through the various swords strapped at her hip.

“Of course,” he hummed, flicking through his spell tome. “Have I ever led you astray before?”

Armored Dude snorted from his place across the room. “You’re not the issue. I just have trouble believing one of those monsters would still be alive at all after all this time.”

‘Lord Flamm’ snorted. “And why not? They’re like cockroaches—thriving through the worst of the world and gorging themselves on its corruption. This one is no different.”

Your brows twitched irritably.

Thankfully, Silence was not an indefinite spell. And after about ten minutes of muzzled misery, you felt its sticky, gauzy, gunk wash itself out of your throat.  

“I’m getting the impression that you’re really not a fan of dragons,” you said, testing your volume.

Lord Flamm stared down at you with a hawk-eyed sort of sneer. His pale, green, glare felt like a tangible thing crawling along your skin.

“They are unnatural,” he huffed after a moment. “No creature should walk the planes of this world for such a great span of time. Immortality is a perverse transgression against the sanctities of life and existence.”

“You are literally an Elf,” you replied, incredulous. His face scrunched up like you’d forced a whole lemon into his mouth, and then he dropped another dome of Silence over your head.

Another ten minutes crawled by, and words returned to your tongue.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit hypocritical?” you hummed, casually testing the arcane restraints binding your limbs. Those seemed to hold themselves in place with a great deal more fortitude than his on-again-off-again Mute Button, which was as frustrating as it was respectable.

“It’s not nearly the same. I was born into my burden,” he sniffed.

You blinked, confused. “I mean, so was Tsunotarou.”

Elf Wizard made a punched-out sort of noise, like you’d decked him right in the spleen.

“You named the beast?” he gawked. “Like a pet?”

“Look, man,” you grouched, offended on your scaly friend’s behalf. “If anyone’s the pet here, it’s me!”

Lord Flamm’s face went white, to red, and then nearly puce.

“Wait,” you spluttered. “That came out wrong—”

And then you were gagged once more.

The next time your muzzle was lifted, Lord Flamm was already pacing along the little, invisible, edge of the spell’s cage. You cleared your throat and he came to a stop a few feet away from where you were bound.

“I can see what’s happened here,” he said, stern, and you arched a brow in disbelief. You didn’t even have any solid idea what the fuck was going on, and you’d been living it for the past few weeks. He cleared his throat and glowered down at you. “You’ve been taken in by the monster’s wiles.”

You spluttered. “Not to just keep repeating myself, but really, if anyone did the ‘accidental seducing’ thing here, it was—”

He waved you off with a puckered grimace. “That hardly matters. At the end of the day, you are still the creature’s prisoner, and it is my duty as a man of integrity to assist you however I can.”

You frowned. Because while this whole thing had technically started as a hostage situation, it hadn’t really felt like one lately. Sure, Tsunotarou still threw tantrums that shook the foundation when you’d tried to put up a makeshift bathroom door, but he also listened to all your stories with the rapt attention of someone genuinely invested in the garbage pouring out of your mouth. He tucked you into your big mattress nest at night with his scaly nose, and endured all your griping with nothing but good humor. He showed you his treasures and told you terrible, dry, jokes that you were sure you only found so funny because he certainly hadn’t meant to be.

You sighed and dipped your head, expression shuttered.

Lord Flamm stepped forward and you felt a thin, gloved, finger tuck itself beneath your chin to tilt you back up to face him.

“I will save you,” he promised, something genuinely sturdy and righteous coating the words. “If you ask it of me.”

You took a deep breath in through your nose.

“There once a man from Trebucket,” you chirped, letting the jaunty tavern melody roll off your tongue like any good Bard ought to.

Lord Flamm arched a thin brow, in equal parts amusement and exasperation.

“Who really only wanted to find the dragon so he could fuck it—”

His face twisted in rage, and to the surprise of literally no one, you were Silenced yet again. Though this one felt the most like a victory so far.

And thus, the cycle repeated itself. Every quarter hour or so, the spell would drop and you’d start babbling some sacrilegious, borderline pornographic, nonsense that had him cursing you all over again. You counted each round of mockery softly in your head. Half to keep time, half to—

Your gaze trailed past the intricate, stone, entryway and caught. Perched atop the overhang were two gargoyles. Which was quite odd, seeing as you’d spent half a month living out of this room now and had never noticed them before (and you certainly would have, what with your host’s propensity for pointing out the gothic carvings each and every time one popped up in the castle’s architecture). Not to mention, they looked an awful lot like the pair of grey monsters which had been guarding the entrance when you’d first slunk in—the very duo that you’d sworn had tracked you and your friends with beady, gemstone, eyes and dug their pointed talons through solid rock.   

Ancient buildings always seemed to have a life about them—never quiet, never still. Always settling with strange noises and shifting shadows that danced oddly along surfaces that were forever decaying. And this castle was no different. So it took you really listening, really closing your eyes tight and straining your ears against the perpetual white noise, to make out the low grinding of the Gargoyles as they shifted atop their perch and curled their sharp claws.

You tilted your head at them, curious, and the one on the left seemed to bristle. As much as stone could bristle. The one on the right very softly dipped its chin, almost like a bow. Its purple, glass, eyes flashed in the lowlight.

‘Wait,’ that look said.

And so you did, sitting straighter and at proper attention.

The group of Dragon Slayers was still milling about making preparations. Eventually, one of the two yet-unclassified hench people slunk from the room, and when your gaze slipped back to the gargoyles, the one on the right was gone.

You made eye contact with the remaining carving, and it curled its lip at you like a grumbly hound.

There was a scream from beyond the threshold, and then a great clattering of noise not unlike an earthquake, or the resonating crunch of a building crumbling at its base.

Immediately weapons were drawn, shoulders hunched in panic. Defensive magic swirled through the air like ink in water.  

“What’s going on?!—”

With a shrieking roar, the remaining gargoyle lurched forward and collided with one of the armored attackers. The impact was like a crack of thunder, and it rattled around your skull like a gong.

And with that—dragon or no—the battle against the Hunters had officially begun.

With a panicked squawk, you began worming your still very bound self out of the dead center of this tornado of chaos. You flopped across the floor like a particularly determined caterpillar, or someone trussed up a in a sleeping bag with no limbs. You made it almost a solid twenty feet before you were scooped up by the back of your collar and dropped onto your knees.  

“Not so fast, you little cretin.”

And then there was a curved knife at your throat and a set of hands trapping your own. You gulped and the blade bobbed against your chin. Stupid rogues with their stupid stealth. You grit your teeth and clenched your fists, willing the meager scraps of magic that twirled in your veins to bob to the surface. You could feel the trace rumblings of a Thunderwave reverberating down your limbs, and it was certainly no Fireball, or Lightning Bolt, but maybe it would be enough to—

There was a spray of red, red, red and the Striped Rogue at your back collapsed in a puddle of gore.

Standing over the corpse of the felled assassin was a boy. Or, well, something that very much looked like a young boy. Or, not young. Just… It was strange. He was small, slight, with a cheerful youthfulness to him. But the mirthful expression lighting his crimson eyes chilled your bones like the seeping cold from a long-forgotten tomb. It was like looking at someone with dozens—hundreds—of faces. A kaleidoscope of lifetimes. It was disorientating.

“Hello, you,” the little demon cooed. He reached out to tap a clawed finger against your forehead and the arcane binds holding your limbs shattered on impact. “Let’s get you out of here, hmm?”

Something tugged at your brain as you gaped at that mess of choppy, black-and-pink, hair, and the glittering irises that matched the blood splattered across his cheeks almost too horribly well.

“Are you… Lilia?” you asked, dazed.

“Well done, little human,” he trilled, lips curling in delight as he hauled you back to your feet. “But there will be time for proper introductions later. Let’s get you somewhere safe first, before my silly ward really does tear this whole castle down.”

“Tsunotarou is here?” you frowned, anxious. “But these people are here to kill him.”

“We’ve done our best to keep him away for as long as possible,” Lilia hummed. “But I doubt he has much more patience for skulking about in the shadows. He never did,” He sighed, long and world weary. “And I loved this old haunt so much too. I hope it survives.”

“You—” you gawked. “You’re talking about the castle?!”

“Of course,” Lilia smiled, perfectly sweet. “Swatting these pests is going to cause more damage than they’re worth to begin with—”

You were yanked out of the path of an encroaching blade, and Lilia sidestepped the pair of you smoothly to safety.

“You’re not going anywhere!” the Paladin thundered, hand whipping out to leash a whirl of vibrating, bright, magic around Lilia’s wrists. “This fight is mine! And you will have no other!”

“Ah,” your savior sighed, looking down at the faint, yellow, glow circling his skin. “Now that is a doozy.”

The great sword came down with a crash, and Lilia ducked away from the destruction with ease. He gave you a light tap on the shoulder, pushing you forward, and you felt the flush of a Haste spell nibbling at your limbs.

“Go on ahead,” he said, with all the nonchalant politeness of someone lamenting that they were going to be late for afternoon tea. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

BOOM went the now glowing sword as it sliced through the air where your savior had been standing not a moment before.

“Do not take me so lightly, wretch,” the Paladin spat, and Lilia’s civil little smile twisted into something that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“If you insist,” he beamed, with a level of enthusiasm that was bordering on sociopathic.

You didn’t stay to see the fallout. Lilia’s orders to flee aside, you knew well enough what a cat looked like before it pounced—that smug, animalistic, satisfaction that came after deciding that it was going to play with its meal for as long as it liked. And the grinding, snapping, howling noises coming from their direction was enough to reinforce that looking back would be a very terrible idea indeed.

You’d only just made it past the threshold and out in the grand hall beyond when there came a whining groan that sounded familiarly enough like the protesting noises the banister would make whenever Tsunotarou dropped too much of his weight on top of it. You peered back into the room, and from the darkness at its rear emerged a long, thin, snout.

The Great, Ebony, Dragon slithered forth from the blackness like a snake through the grass. The sharp drag of his claws against the stone was earsplitting, and when he spread his wings behind him, he seemed to cast the entire cavern into shadow. Faster than you could blink, one, two, three of the Slayers were scooped up by those massive, pointed, teeth and tossed through the air—wherein the pair of gargoyles descended upon them like a set of well-trained attack dogs. Your dragon swiveled to spit black smoke across the rest of the echoing room and its occupants. Between the swirling smog seeping from his throat and the blackness of his wings, the brilliant, green, glow of his eyes were the only source of light in the gloom. It was all horribly eerie, but mesmerizing in a way that reminded you exactly why so many ballads and epics had been written about the terrible might of Dragons.

He reared his head back and roared. His bellowing seemed to shake the very foundation of the castle, and the sparks jumping from behind his canines bit through the smoke with harsh little pop-pop-pops. And man oh man, he reallymust have been taking it easy on you and your duo of idiots, because this would have had the three of you shitting your pants on the spot.

From there, the battle more or less became a one-sided massacre. The stone soldiers flew through the air, decimating the opponents as their master demanded. Occasionally there was a flash of pink, and then a cheerful laugh followed inevitably by a noise that was all kinds of unpleasant. And at the center of it all was your newfound friend—picking apart the opposition with all the careful rage of someone determined to sear the consequences of these Hunters’ folly into the memories of their lineages for ages to come.

And then—amidst all the quite frankly epic fighting that you would have to tell Ace and Deuce all about when they came back to visit—you noticed that not far from where you were hiding observing was a familiar, angry, gaunt face. Lord Flamm’s elaborate black and maroon robes swirled around his ankles as he paced, and he was leering at the chaos unfolding not a hundred feet away with an expression that calling murderous would have been kind.

You bristled immediately, limbs lancing through with a tight sort of indignation.

He was just—right there! Standing all the way out here! When the rest of his party was busy being chewed to itty-bitty pieces!

And sure, rationally you knew that Wizards were squishy, glass-canons not meant for close combat more intense than a round of rock-paper-scissors. Sure, when you and your idiots had been facing down a dragon, Ace and Deuce had ordered you and your equally ill-armored self to run for it. Someone had probably hurled the Elf from the room the moment combat began, or demanded he whirl away to safety.

But you wanted to be angry. Because this was the man who had strode, eyes wide open, into a hornet’s nest with the sole intention of crushing the poor bugs beneath his heel. He deserved to bear the brunt of the miserable, stinging, backlash.

It certainly didn’t help that he was glaring down Tsunotarou with near frenzied loathing. The tome in his hands was flipped open to a dense spell that you couldn’t even begin to make sense of, and he was casting. Something tedious, and extravagant, and with enough somatic nonsense to make your head spin. His gloved fingers glowed beneath a growing mote of magic that shone horrible and bright in the natural shadows of the castle. Whatever sort of magic it was, it was strong enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and push frantic adrenaline through your veins. Sigils swam through the air, and you swore you could feel it sapping at your own tiny pool of mana. If this was some kind of spell that would gobble up magic, then a dragon who was nothing but magic—then Tsunotarou—he would—This spell might actually—

You ran at that wretched little bitch with everything you had, and tackled him to the ground just as a bolt of crackling, pale, force magic boomed from between his fingers. The spell shot wide, and you thanked every divine being you could think of for the enduring shittiness of Wizard Muscles.

“I should have known you’d risk your life to save that unholy monster,” he seethed, rolling back to his feet and sending you tumbling off the side.

You stood firm and silent between this awful, garbage, Elf and the Dragon he so hated.

Lord Flamm raised a hand in your direction, incensed, and then you watched as something sharp and frightened slithered its way across his features. No sparks danced along his fingertips, no black miasma curled from his palms. You shoved your hands into your pockets and rocked back and forth on your heels like the most obnoxious piece of shit you could be.

“Wow,” you drawled, low in your throat. “That was impressive. I mean. How many times did you cast all those spells on me earlier? I’m shocked you have anything left.”

The already dark look coloring his face twitched into something truly foul.

“You were doing that on purpose,” he snarled. “You vile, loathsome, bumbling ignoramus of a bard!—"

“Ah, stop, stop!” You beamed, fanning yourself with a limp wrist. “You’re going to make me blush~”

You ducked out the way with a yelp as a mote of fire whizzed past your ear—singeing far too many hairs at it went. Because fuck fuck fuck. Cantrips were still a thing. And he was powerful enough that those simple, little, bits of magic would still probably be more than enough to fry the meat off your bones.

“It’ll be enough to kill you,” he seethed—like he could read your thoughts—teeth tugged into a hideous, gaping, sneer.

Your mind zipped through every possible escape route and settled frantically on the only option that had ever truly seemed to save your ass.

“What white teeth you have?” you tried.

He roared and another shot of brilliant, red, flames careened over your head.  

You ducked out of the way with a squawk just in the nick of time, nearly faceplanting into a wall in your haste.

And thus ensued a terrifying but morbidly hilarious Benny Hill chase through pillars, and behind rocks, and into holes. You killed your singular, daily use of Misty Step just trying to get out of one of said holes. And your brief attempt at tossing up a Mirror Image to throw off his groove did little but get you whacked with a Counterspell that made your bones ache.

Just as you’d burned through the last of your meager magic and were genuinely preparing to just try and deck the guy again, black smoke began to curl through the hall—soon followed by the ominous roll of thunderous growls and the heavy grindingof a gigantic beast clawing its way into the room.

You threw yourself at the dragon with more enthusiasm than was probably proper for a situation like this, and he immediately ducked his head to catch you against his snout. He curled himself around you with a rumbling snarl and your vision was drowned in a shifting sea of ebony scales. You squished yourself into his bulk with a shuddering sigh, fingers clutching a bit uselessly at the slippery surface of his natural armor.

A burst of orange flames rolled harmlessly off Tsunotarou’s scaled side and his lips curled unpleasantly over his canines. You could see the licks of emerald fire rolling off his tongue—dancing along his white teeth and lighting the hall in an ominous, sickly, glow.

Before the pair of you, Lord Flamm looked half-mad. If not fully consumed. His party wiped, his hostage freed, and the creature he hated so fiercely baring down on him with no escape.

He let his head fall back with a discordant trill of laughter and grinned at the approaching dragon without a hint of repentance. Fear, perhaps. Panic, certainly. But no remorse. He raised his hands once more, and another dredge of his own fire sparked along his fingers.

“And he shall smite the wicked and plunge them into the fiery pit.”

The Great Briar Beast of Old opened his gigantic, black, maw and choked the hall in a torrent of emerald fire.

And Lord Flamm and his Dragon Slayers were no more.

You stared intently at the singed corridor, as if waiting for one of the piles of ash to jump to its feet and pull a sword. Which you might have excused as paranoid fretting if you hadn’t heard of necrotic magics capable of doing exactly that. But after a long moment of waiting with bated breath and tight fists, the monsters did not rise from their graves, and all seemed to be truly well and over.

You let out a gigantic gust of a breath and collapsed bonelessly against the dragon at your side. After a solid minute or two of just awkwardly trying to find a good way to hug a giant lizard more than a dozen times your size, Tsunotarou slipped out of his scales, and then he was warm and fleshy in your arms once more. Still too big, still earth-shatteringly strong, but human-shapedenough that you could merrily settle into his embrace without the risk of becoming a pancake.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped past the lingering haze of smoke. “You’re okay!”

“Me?” he gawked at you. It was an awkward angle to make eye contact, seeing as he’d latched himself onto you like a particularly determined koala, but he managed nonetheless. “You were worried about me during all of that?” He blinked those wide, neon, eyes at you like you were some horribly long and tedious math equation that he couldn’t even begin to make sense of. “You were the one who was captured!”

“They were Dragon Slayers,” you entreated, brow furrowed. “They didn’t need me for much of anything. Of course I was worried more about you.”

When the constipated look on his face refused to fade, you prodded him gently in his side.

“Look, I promise if we ever run into Bard Poachers I will be exponentially more cautious.”

He didn’t look particularly convinced—whether because he was trying to suss out of if something like ‘Bard Poachers’ were an actual, factual, threat upon your person, or because you’d just openly hurtled yourself at a clearly overpowered, feral, wizard with no regards to your already shitty constitution to speak of, so a promise to ‘be more cautious’ was about as good as saying that maybe next time you wouldn’t outright flirt with death. Only subtly. A lil’ bit.

You reached up to smoosh your thumb along the sharp slant of his frown and smooth out the harsh edges that were practically digging into his jaw.

“Tsunotarou, if you keep making that face, it’s going to get stuck like that,” you warned.  

“Malleus,” he interrupted, firm. You blinked up at him slowly and your hand fell back to rest in the nonexistent space between you.

“A what?”

“Malleus,” he repeated, and you felt the weight of the word dance through the air like sparks. Like an invocation, or a curse. “My true name.”

You waited a moment in shocked silence before slowly repeating your own name back at him. He startled and snorted a laugh into your neck, some of that lingering, terrible, tension finally seeming to seep out of him.

“I am well aware of what you are called, Child of Man.”

“…I know that,” you mumbled, fighting the urge to fidget. Malleus, Malleus, Malleus. The syllables sat heavy on your tongue, like your mouth couldn’t figure out how to push them past your lips. “I thought you said that dragons don’t give out their real names.”

He drew back just enough to cup your cheeks in his ashy palms, brushing a clawed finger back and forth against one of the small cuts littering your jaw.

“There is power in a name,” he said. “It is not a gift readily bestowed.”

Then why—

You swallowed, nervous, and one of his thumbs tracked the movement along the hollow of your throat.

“This way, if you call for me, I will always hear you,” he promised, eyes going flinty and venomous as he gazed at the cinder piles of smoking intruders. “And something like this will never happen again.”

“I—I mean,” you spluttered. “Me being—And this being—I mean—” You cleared your throat. “That hardly seems like a good enough reason to—to—” To put something so important into the hands of someone who literally broke into your house less than a month ago. To give something so precious to someone so human.

“Isn’t it?” he smiled, that sharp anger melting back into something painfully soft. Your poor heart kickstarted itself all over again. He ducked forward to press his nose into your temple, and you could feel the soft puff of his breath as his grin sharpened into a smirk. “Though I would have liked to bestow my titles on you in other ways as well, if this little hero would be amenable.”

You squawked, and the only thing that shook you out of the immediate spiral into ‘did he really just ask me to—am I really going to be stuck in every goddamn bard’s trope existence of—of—'  was the merry laughter that bubbled up from somewhere behind you. 

“Careful, my Prince,” Lilia hummed from his place perched atop a particularly large heap of rubble. “If you come on too strong, you’ll only scare them away. Humans are flighty like that, I’m afraid.”

You could feel Malleus’s pout against your forehead.

“Not my human,” he grouched. His hands dropped from your cheeks to encircle your waist and clutch at your lower back. “And that besides,” he continued testily, “you were the one who only just this morning insisted I take decisive action.”

“That’s true,” Lilia agreed with a gentle bob of his head, resting his pointed chin against his palm. “But perhaps three sentences at least before the proposal?”

Malleus blinked, slow and serpentine, before flicking his neon gaze back to you. “That does seem fair I suppose. What do you think?”

“I think,” you gawked, trying and failing to process any of the words that were coming out of their fanged mouths, “that I am having a stroke.”

“NOT ACCEPTABLE!” boomed a voice from overhead. “YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FALL ILL AFTER ALL THE EFFORTS WE TOOK TO KEEP YOU SAFE!”

You jolted in shock, and Malleus’s talons flexed reassuringly at your waist as he gently turned you back-to-chest so that you could face your accuser. He nestled his chin into your shoulder, and you could feel his horns bump against your skull as he tried to burrow in as close as possible. Which all would have been thoroughly distracting, but then you noticed that one of the Gargoyles from early had landed directly across from you. Its spiked head was swiveling back and forth as it appraised you like some particularly ruffled cockatoo. And that in itself was bizarre enough to help you focus on something other than the weight along your back and the steadily rising heat in your cheeks.

“Uhm, hello?” you tried.

“WE HAVE ALREADY MET!” It screeched. “THERE IS NO NEED FOR INTRODUCTIONS!”

“It talks,” you blanched.

“OF COURSE I SPEAK, YOU IGNORANT ENTERTAINER!” The Gargoyle thundered. Its yellow eyes flashed in indignation. “HOW COULD I NOT LEARN TO COMMUNICATE IN A RESPECTABLE FASHION WHEN SERVING SOMEONE SO MAJESTIC AS HIS MAJESTY?!”

“I think,” the other Gargoyle said, slipping forward so silently you could hardly believe it was made of such strong stone at all, “that what Sebek is trying to say, is that we are happy to finally be able welcome you into our home, even if it is under less than ideal circumstances. And that we are very pleased to be able to speak with you.”

“THAT IS WHAT I ALREADY SAID, SILVER!” the spiky one snarled. No one else looked particularly bothered by his ceaseless volume, so it was probably normal. He stuck his carved nose into the air with a harumph. “AND I HAVE HEARD OF THE WAYS OF YOU TRAVELING STORY TELLERS! IF YOU BREAK MY MASTER’S HEART, YOU WILL SUFFER AN ETERNITY OF TORMENT AT MY HAND!”

Malleus growled, low and rumbling, from over your shoulder. Instantly his stalwart guardian cowed—head dipping like a kicked a puppy.

“Of course,” it continued, much softer. “I don’t think this human would do that. And—And I think my master has made a very good choice in his mate, and I will be happy to serve you too.”

Lilia sighed a sigh that sounded very much like a doting mother overflowing with parental affection. Like the kind of noise one may hear on a cozy Sunday afternoon while helping prepare dinner, or while sitting on a little, floral, couch and sifting through little paintings of grandchildren. There was still blood splattered all along his cheeks.

“It’s so lovely to have the family all together again,” he cooed. “And I do think that you will make such a marvelous addition.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you,” you nodded jerkily, just as your knees buckled and you collapsed to the floor.

.

.

On the first day of the new month, Ace and Deuce made their way back to the forgotten castle nestled in a pool of lava.

“We should never have left them,” Deuce grumbled for what was maybe the ten thousandth time. Ace was sick of hearing it. He was even more sick of the fact that despite being constantly inundated with various versions of ‘oh, we’re such terrible friends,’ the little, twisting, spike of guilt in his gut never grew any duller. Wasn’t that how it was supposed to work? Something-something-repetitive-exposure-therapy, or whatever? This sucked. He wanted a refund on this whole ‘conscience’ thing. Maybe it wasn’t too late to sell his soul and become a Warlock or whatever. Surely that would help.  

“We didn’t have a choice,” Ace reminded him. Again. “They’re okay. I know they are. We’re going to show up and they’ll be, I don’t know, lying in a bed of gold being hand fed grapes or something.”

Deuce made a rumbly, whining, kind of noise that made him sound even more pathetic than usual and Ace sighed, determined to instead focus on the rickety rope bridge swinging beneath their feet.

The ancient, looming, monstrosity of a building was just as cold and dark as it had been the first time. If anything, it was more filthy. With walls stained with seeping ash and the charred, skeletal, remains of something that Ace was definitely, absolutely, not going to think about scattered throughout the grime.

The two of them made their way to the heart of the castle until they were standing at the entrance of a grand, cavernous, chamber that may have once been some sort of ballroom.

Ace didn’t know what he was expecting. Slaver’s coils maybe. A chain around your ankles and rags drooping from your shoulders. Or maybe you wouldn’t even be there at all—long since swallowed down as a little, midnight, snack.

He certainly wasn’t expecting to see you lounging contentedly atop a mountainous heap of soft blankets, with the master of this castle—terror-incarnate, death from above, an eldritch beast ripped straight out of legend—curled along the lumpy hills of your grandiose pillow fort, its great head nestled at your back as you reclined against its scales and chattered away. Like the goddamned, rambling, idiot you had always been.

One of the dragon’s large, green, eyes shifted towards the intruders at its door, and Ace froze in place. You paused your chattering to raise your hand with an excited little wave. Your tattered traveler’s clothes had been replaced with something silken and soft enough that it would probably melt in his fingers, and it swayed like mist around you as you made your way to your feet. You were practically dripping in platinum, and diamonds, and emeralds, and—he was going to stop counting them before he gave himself a conniption.

And yeah… it wasn’t exactly a throne of gold and gemstones, but it was almost just as impressive. And immediately indignation swept through Ace with a horrible kind of vengeance. Because how dare you actually be living it up over here when he had been so fucking worried just lying about all that cool stuff to keep Deuce from storming the castle gates?

“You made it!” you chirped, perfectly merry despite the gigantic maw full of sharp teeth hovering at your shoulder.

“Of—Of course we did,” Deuce stuttered, his blue eyes flicking back and forth so quickly from the dragon, to you, to Ace, to the dragon, to you—that Ace genuinely thought he might be having a seizure. “We promised we would.”

You stopped in front of them with a considerate little hum, sharp eyes tracing and cataloguing their varying reactions. After a moment of what was obviously some very smug preening and even smugger ‘I win this round’ silent gloating, you slipped out of the piles of entangled jewels with an exaggerated shrug. With the exception of an intricately carved emerald pendant hanging softly between the hollows of your collarbones, the rest of the infinitely expensive and rare gems fell to the ground with a series of clattering chatter.

“All that shit is so heavy,” you whined. Whined. Like you had any right to complain about anything at all for the rest of your existence. You leaned forward with a wink. “I was just hoping it’d make your thieving, money-hungry ass, jealous.” You smirked, proud. “And it looks like it worked, you goddamn traitors.”

Ace was about to splutter out the most scathing remark his spiteful little brain could come up with, when Deuce ruined everything by rushing forward like the blubbering idiot he was and scooping you up into a bearhug.

“You’re okay! You’re okay!” he wailed. “We missed you so much!”

“Speak for yourself,” Ace huffed, and twinged miserably when it came out sounding far too soft. He cleared his throat and decided to take a different approach. “You know, last time I was sort of joking about the whole ‘bards and dragons’ thing. But it looks like you’ve made yourself real comfortable. And here I thought you were always super opposed to the ‘fucking my way out of my problems’ stereotype.”

However, because the universe seemed determined not to give Ace any kind of win for the rest of his natural existence, instead of getting all embarrassed and mousey, you just huffed and turned up your nose at him.

“Well obviously not as a dragon,” you complained. “Do you know how big he is? How would that even work, huh?” The aforementioned dragon lowered his gigantic head to settle on the ground at your side, and you leaned against him good-naturedly when he grumbled low in his throat. “Yeah, no,” you said to the beast, rolling your eyes. “Nice try, but no.”

Deuce immediately choked and started hacking up a lung, and Ace wanted to die.

“You can talk to it?” the redhead asked instead of keeling over.

You shrugged.

“Not like this. But I’ve learned to interpret most of it.” You wiggled your fingers. “It’s my sixth sense.”

Ace’s nose scrunched. “Yeah, right. If anything, it’s your ‘I’ve been dicked down by a dragon and think that makes me soooo special now’ sense—”

The great, ebony, monster growled and the Fighter’s mouth snapped shut like someone had taken a hammer to his jaw. You snickered goodhumoredly and elbowed your companion gently at the base of one of its long, sharp, horns.

“He’s just joking around,” you said to the winged horror. “You don’t have to get all defensive.”

There was another grumpy sneer, but the dragon simply settled more heavily at your side with a defeated sort of huff. The gust of a sigh sent a wave of scorching heat along Ace’s front, and he fought the urge to cow immediately and beg for his life. Because apparently that wasn’t going to be necessary, because you had—you had—

“Are you in love?” Deuce blurted, because unlike Ace, the Barbarian was pure, and good, and still didn’t fully understand how eggs worked, let alone the concept of Fuck or Die.

And then you surprised him yet again by getting as flustered as he’d expected you to when he’d accused you (rightly) of bending over for a goddamn fucking dragon.

But before you could answer, the dragon lifted its head to press its temple against yours. Or, as well as it could do that when it dwarfed the lot of you the way an elephant might hover over a mouse. Mostly it just ended up being a very, very, delicate head bump. A deep, warbling, purr started from its chest and rolled all the way up and past its sharp, white, canines.

“Uhm,” you tried again. “You guys are invited to the wedding, I guess.”

“The what?!” Deuce howled, before promptly falling to his knees to fan himself like a devasted matron in a church.

You sighed and rubbed at the back of your head, clearly embarrassed. You mumbled something under your breath that sounded a bit like ‘it’s kind of a whole saga, y’know.’ And Ace, in all his infinite good will, decided to take pity on you just this once. And also because you were clearly loaded now, and all good friends know that sharing is caring, right?

“Come on then, Bardy,” he smirked, leaning down to kick Deuce flatter to the floor—half to knock the guy out of his frantic spiraling, half so he could perch on his back like a chair. Because the stone floor looked really uncomfortable, and he had a feeling that trying to slip into that nice nest of blankets of yours would not end well. “Tell us a story.”

.

.

.

[TAG LIST] CLOSED

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[sometipsygnostalgic]

Video game console and case design

Today's hyperfixation is on the PLAYSTATION 5. Because I want one, but I really shouldn't buy one, so I am just looking up everything to do with games consoles and burning my brain out.

I used to be a proper xbox player, until I got my PC, then I never really touched by xbox again. I got a PS4 to play Persona 5 and since then it's been a blu ray player for my Adventure Time boxset, not much else. But the current gen - PS5, Series X - is arguably more powerful than my gaming PC, and I still have a lot of friends stuck on PS5, so I am considering investing in a unit.

Anyway is it me or did they really shit the bed with design in this generation?

Look at these chunky fuckers! They do not fit smoothly under your television at all. There is no detail or decoration breaking up their unnecessarily large faces, which makes them look bland and ugly. They look like they're made of cheap plastic, with the two controllers being the highest quality thing about them. I can attest the xbox controller is unbeatable, but playstation really made their shot this generation. A shame I can never get used to the dualshock joystick positioning.

The Series S and the PS5 Slim are almost NO improvement on the base designs.

For some reason they made the Series S look like a speaker???

The new PS5 slim FINALLY has a line across that massive faceplate, but the half matte half glossed finish is not doing it any favours. I think it would've looked much better if, for example, the matte and gloss plates were different colours. Like black and white! It also has an even MORE out of place disc drive, which I think is part of Sony's agenda to go digital only, and the two tiny "feet" for its horizontal positioning are pathetic! Personally I like this more than the original but not significantly, disappointing since I was really looking forward to it.

I want you to compare these nasties to the previous generation - the PS4 and the XBOX One.

....Now, what's hilarious about this image is the consoles look ALMOST IDENTICAL from this angle. And, I guess, that would be why Sony and Microsoft decided to make such a departure with the space heater PS5 and the fridge Series X.

But they both look very premium and advanced, and they fit very nicely in your living room.

The companies tried to look a bit more distinguished in their followup versions in the previous gen too. The white PS4 Pro looks a lot closer to PS5 with its quirkiness, but without the atrocious shiny plastic. Sony tended to add or remove a layer whenever they altered the PS4, I wonder what they would look like all stacked on top of each other.

It's not just the games console designs that suffer - Look at the game cases! I know that the companies want to incentivise you to go digital, but Xbox Series X cases are just awful.

So if you're confused - You should be!!! Microsoft have two kinds of case for the Series X. One of them is the EXACT SAME CASE as Xbox One, but with Series X printed on the front. The second newer version foregoes the sexy Xbox logo entirely and just has Xbox Series X printed in some default font. Awful awful awful.

Playstation is doing better, but barely.

They are reusing PS4 cases with a different print on them. It doesn't look as horrible as Xbox's, and it at least has a different colour on the logo, but damn, the jump between PS3/360 and PS4/One was really impressive, and now they've stopped bothering because they want everyone to go digital. If your game cases look like shit, why bother with physical?

I want to contrast with physical media kings Nintendo, who did an outstanding job in 2017 with designing the case for the Nintendo Switch.

These bad boys are mine. They're super thin, easy to stack, decent quality, and F U N. The red colour pallette makes them pop out. You can see one from across the store and go, "damn, that's a Nintendo Switch game".

I just want a thousand of them.

I would say a disadvantage, especially compared to the Gamecube games next to them, and even compared to 3ds, is that you can't tell what game you're looking at without going right up to them. These cases are TOO uniform, and really tiny, so i have to triple check I am picking up Xenoblade Chronicles 3 and not Tony Hawk Pro Skater. Meanwhile you can tell exactly what Gamecube games I have by colour pallette alone. Like, you can instantly tell that's Windwaker.

The switch in general is a very fun looking games console, much nicer looking than its predecessor the Wii U, though I'm not sure how I feel about the white of the OLED. But every time I see a Switch Lite in stores, even though I know it's worse than my Switch, I want to buy one. It just looks so FUUUUUN.

And finally a special mention to the 3DS and its games case. The console itself was pretty stylish, if... rudimentary for its release period, but the games cases are high quality and almost make me want to have 3ds games just so I can have the cases.

[gtbutterfly]

Quincy and the forest giant part 10

hey, I got this one out a lot sooner than expected! I might try to work on a new story or maybe some one offs between this chapter and the next one. Anyways, this part is a bit more in depth than the last one. Hope you enjoy it! Critism is appreciated! (Sorry I forgot to say that last time)

previous part:

______________________________________________________________

I’ve never understood why in movies and cartoons, whenever one character was tiny and another character was big, they had the smaller character sitting on the bigger one's shoulder. I always thought that it would be too easy for the smaller person  to fall off from there. When people have parrots and other birds on their shoulders, it makes sense, because the bird is holding on with its talons. But with a person, they’re not really hanging onto anything, they're just balancing, and they somehow don’t fall off. If they had to hang onto something, it would probably be the ear, which would be painful for the bigger character. I never realized why those shows always did that until Ella took me for a walk that day. She had me cupped in her hand while she was walking through the forest. Her elbows were bent so I was upright in her hands. After a while, she started carrying me in one hand against her chest while she put her other hand down, and she switched hands a few times, which was a bit disorienting for me. I figured out her arms were getting tired in that position, so I decided to say something when she switched again,

“Um…hey, Ella?” I said,

“Hmm?” The giant looked down at me, “oh, sorry kid, I know changing my hands can be a bit much,” 

“Uh…it's fine…hey, do you want to, like, hold me in a different way?” I asked.

“What other way?” she asked, “this is the most comfortable way I can hold you without you dropping 40 feet,”

“Well…it doesn’t seem too comfortable…” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Comfortable for you I mean,” Ella said. “Would you rather I have you in a fist around your neck again?”

“Um…no,” I said, “uh…how about…I dunno, your shoulder?” I suggested.

“You’d fall in seconds.” Ella said dryly.

“Um…your pocket?” I asked,

“You wouldn’t be able to seeQuincy. That would defeat the whole purpose of going on a hike.” Ella said. “My pockets are too deep for you to see over…do you want to know what's in my pockets?”

“Um, No?” I said, in a mixture of scared and genuinely confused.

“Good.” Ella said, continuing to walk. 

“Um…do you have any ideas?” I asked.

“Hmm…” she sighed, “your too small to walk beside me, obviously,” she said, “maybe…sigh no,”

“Um…what?” I asked,

“Nothing..” she said, starting to murmur something to herself about “me being too young.”, I couldn’t fully make it out. She sighed again. “Maybe we should rest for a second, how does that sound?” 

“Yeah…that sounds fine,” I said. Ella looked around, before slowly lowering herself to the ground, which was covered in leaves and plants, some flattened by giant footprints, supposedly from Ella stepping on them before. She sat with one leg outwards and the other bent towards it. She placed me on the ground on her right side, next to the bent leg, and leaned back with both her arms behind her. I looked around at the forest we were in. The trees were even larger than the 60 foot giant looming over me, their leaves were massive and completely blocked out the sun. The floor of the woods was covered in bushes and shrubs and flowers that took whatever light did seep through the leaves of the trees. Next to me was a foot print the size of a small car where the plant life was completely flattened. It was Ellas footprint, but it wasn’t somewhere she stepped before. I looked up at her.

“Um…do you come to this part of the forest often?” I asked.

“Yeah…part of my job,” the giant said.

“Oh yeah….your job…” I said, looking down. “Um….is it ok if I…ask now….um, what your job is?” 

“I told you, I’ll tell you when I’m ready to,” Ella said,

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I rubbed the back of my head, “um…but….I’m just wondering if you can, uh, just tell me what you do,”

“What do I do?” Ella asked.

“Yeah…uh, you don’t have to tell me how your a giant or anything about the company, or Derrick, or anything like that…I just want to know what you do, that's all..,”

“Hmm…alright then,” the giant sighed, “I’m only telling you because they apparently want me to adopt you, or whatever,” she closed her eyes and sighed again, before looking forward and away from me. “I walk around the forest…and make sure everything is…” she waved her hand in the air as if trying to think of what to say, “normal” she finally said, with air quotes.

“N-normal?” I asked.

“Not normal like, normal, normal like, the way things are supposed to be,” Ella said.

“Um….ok…um, like what?” I asked, tilting my head. She looked down at me.

“That's harder to explain without getting into…y’know,” Ella sighed again, changing her legs to be crisscrossed. She then held out her hand to me. I looked at it for a moment, confused as if we were going to continue walking or not, before climbing onto her palm. Ella stayed on the ground, lifting me upwards to a tree. My gut felt weird being lifted like that, I thought that I would be used to it by now.

“Do you see these trees?” Ella asked. I looked at the tree in front of me. It was thick and wide, much more dense than a normal tree, but not as much as say a red wood. The trunk was brown, and the leaves were much bigger, they seemed like normal leaves, but they were almost a foot long. 

“Y-yeah…what about it…?” I asked.

“These are oak trees, Quincy.” the giant holding me said. “They're the kind of tree your townspeople chop down.” 

“But…they're so big…” I said, “...trees from centuries ago don’t get this big…at least as far as I know,” 

“That's the work of the company.” Ella said. “Its experimental, these are the only trees in the world being grown like this. Since its experimental, there are some worries from the company about these modified trees affecting the animals, or their existence being found out to the public and other companies try doing the same thing,” 

“So…you make sure those things don’t happen?” I asked.

“If an animal mutates or whatever, which never happens, I’m supposed to give it to the company for testing, and if a human is found out here, I’m supposed to take them so that no one finds out about what the company’s doing.” Ella said. “So, yeah, I just walk around and make sure those things…don’t happen,” she shrugged.

“So, you're their security?” I asked,

“That's a way of putting it,” she said dryly. She looked down at herself for a moment, almost seeming sad about something. I looked up at her and patted hand a bit, I don’t know if she felt it or not, she didn’t have a reaction. I looked down for a moment, before backing up and looking up at her.

“So, uh, they were worried about the big trees making…big animals?” I asked,

“Yeah…they never did though, at least as far as I can tell,” Ella said.

“Did they make you big…in the same way?” I asked sheepishly, looking down slightly. Ella turned her head towards me and sighed. She was silent for a moment.

“It's a bit more complicated than that…” she said, before she got on her knees. I could tell she didn’t want to talk about this anymore. She looked forward. “Come on, let's start heading back, I should start making lunch for us,” the giant said, still holding me as she stood up.

“Yeah….um…how does…uh, venison…taste anyways?” I asked. 

“You’ll see,” Ella said, her footsteps vibrating the ground as she walked with me in her hands. She was looking straight forward as she walked. I looked up at her face. She seemed like she was thinking of something, something that was bothering her. She was passively sad, looking forward with her mouth frowned and her eyes a bit droopy and tired looking. I patted her thumb again.

“Hey…um, are you ok?” I asked, looking up at her. Her eyes widened a bit as she glanced down at me.

“...what do you mean?” she asked, seeming genuinely confused.

“Um…you seem..down about something,” I said, rubbing the back of my head. Ella’s eyes shifted to her side for a moment. They flickered slightly in thought. 

“Um…yeah, it's just sort of…been a lot happening lately,” the giant said, “usually things are a lot more..uneventful out here,”

“um…I know what you mean,” I said, “but I meant…well…you seem…sad….”

“It's nothing,” Ella sighed.

“Um..it's ok…” I said sheepishly, “if you're sad…I just…if you want to talk about it ... .or anything…” Ella sighed again, interrupting me. She let out a slight smile, that was clearly just meant to make me feel better.

“It's fine, Quincy. You don’t have to feel bad for me,” She said, rubbing my back a bit with her finger, “honestly…I probably deserve this, anyways,” 

“Ella…don’t say that…” Said, touching her thumb again.

“Its alright Quincy, you don’t know…” she said, sighing again. “I’ll tell you everything soon…tonight…I’ll tell you everything tonight…make sure to hold me by that, ok?” she said, tilting her head. I paused for a moment.

“...ok,” I said, looking down, “...you really don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…”

“It's fine Quincy,” she said, rubbing my back again, “you should know…you deserve to know…”

And then she kept walking.  

[mandu-17]

Always been you part 2 | Kim Minnie x reader

Part 1

Warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of cheating

Genre: ANGST, a tiny little bit of fluff at the end

Wordcount: ~ 3,322

A/N: guys go read some regular books as well

If time machine did exist, you were certainly the one who'd feel its’ magic. The kiss took you back in time. It turned your whole world upside down. All these years of heartbreak, constant pain, loneliness and naive expecting seemed to simply disappear. One quick snap, just like hypnosis.

Immediately, you dropped the broom, not caring about the noise it made when hitting the ground. Thankfully, no one seemed to hear. You smoothly wrapped your arms around Minnie’s small waist and pulled her in, incredibly close. She clung to you, her shaky hands gripped your shirt almost as if she was scared that you’ll disappear any second. Your sweet smell entered her nostrils - Minnie felt like she was dreaming and just had to make sure you really were there with her. The moment felt too good to be true. The way your lips moved against hers, your delicate fingers stroking her hair, the feeling of your breaths fanning her skin. It seemed, as if nothing changed at all. Those goosebumps that Minnie was always able of providing were still there. The little breaths and hums she’d release against your lips from time to time also were still present. You felt your heart clench at how adorable this woman, not a teenager anymore, behaved in front of you.

Eventually once both of you had to get some air, Minnie pulled away just a little bit while resting her forehead on yours. Panting, she admired your features up close with her finger gently tracing your jawline. Even if you wanted to say something, you truly became speechless under her soft gaze, proximity didn’t help either. So you just stood there unable to move, letting her do whatever she wished to. Her loving, shining eyes remained the same, only her cheekbones stood out a bit more because of all the weight she’d lost as an idol.

Suddenly, Minnie visibly saddened.

“What about Rosé?”

~

That was an excellent question. You had no idea, you realized, as you anxiously paced in circles at the airport in Bangkok. Only few more minutes were on your way of finding out though. It was only a matter of time until Rosé would make her way out of the plane and greet you.

As every other time, she had no problem with spotting you in the crowded room. It just felt so natural for her eyes to find yours. She used to often joke about how you were a literal magnet for her ever since the day you met.

Your heart broke the moment Rosé beamed at you from afar, before speeding in your direction with arms wide open. A lump formed in your throat, seeing Rosé in person after what you’d done - only now it made you truly realize how much you’d lost.

“What’s going on?” She asked stopping in front of you and noticing your watery eyes.

Since you wanted to get this off your chest, as soon as possible, you didn’t really hesitate.

“I kissed Minnie.” You looked down. “I guess I never stopped loving her.”

Silence.

“So I really came back for nothing, huh?” Rosé heavily sat down on the bench.

You glanced up to see her face. There was this emptiness in her eyes, as she was looking into the distance, trying to put pieces together. You expected her to get angry and yell, maybe even make a scene and slap you in the face - do anything.

Anything would be better than the sight you were met with. She looked broken on the inside.

“What do you mean for nothing? What about work?” You asked confused.

“I got a better job offer back in Australia. My aunt is retiring and leaving to the States. She offered me to manage her guesthouse.” Rosé was toying with her fingers. “I came back to ask you to do it with me.”

“Rosie-” You gasped with wide eyes.

This was so bad.

“But I guess the offer is no longer available.” In a sudden, fast move Rosé got a hold of her suitcase and walked passed you towards the exit door.

“Rosé, wait-” You felt this need to say something more, to apologize- you tried stopping her by grabbing her wrist, but she quickly brushed you off. “Leave me alone, Y/N.” With her cold voice she made you shiver. Rosé’s eyes were filled with agony, no matter how hard she tried to camouflage it with anger, you saw beneath it. You saw the hurt written all over her face. “I really can’t look at you right now.”

You had no choice but to accept her decision. It was you that fucked up after all.

~

Two hours later, you found yourself at a small bar located right next to the beach. Lisa, sitting in front of you, tried to come up with any advise for you given your situation.

“I do like Rosé, you know that. But she’s just... Not Minnie.” Lisa shook her head gently while toying with the straw of her drink. Her shoulder length hair was delicately blew by the sea breeze, her brows remained furrowed, as she tried to find the right words.

“Shit, I’m not even sure how to explain it, but just- Like in my head, whenever I think of you, I think of Minnie as well. And when I think of Minnie, you’re there too.” Lisa’s shining eyes met your eyes, she was determined to make you understand her point of view. “It’s almost like you two are glued together. Like you’re always holding hands in my mind, exchanging looks. Like a fucking magnet that just stays together no matter what, you know?.”

You made a grimace at the word ‘magnet’.

“Rosé said something about magnets too.” You mumbled before emptying your drink and gesticulating to the waiter for a refill.

Lisa sighed and you didn’t blame her. If you were her, you’d be sick of your friends too. Nevertheless, she grabbed her drink, quickly chugged it down, slightly wincing at its’ taste and joined you in waiting for another glass. You’d jump into flames for Lisa Manoban.

“So, Yuqi and you, huh?”

You began when young waiter set your drinks on the table. Lisa pressed lips together, at first refusing to look you in the eyes.

“Come on, you know everything about my fucked up situation! It’s your turn now, spill.”

She giggled, but nodded in agreement. It was only fair if she shared her thoughts as well.

“We didn’t do anything.” There was this coy glimpse in her eyes, she was smiling, but it looked like she was talking about high school crush or maybe even elementary crush. This innocent, but still satisfied look on her face suited her a lot. It made her look younger. “It was incredible to get to know her more and talk to her throughout the whole night. We had a great time together and there was this vibe like we knew each other already. We joked so much and immediately bonded. I mean Yuqi’s probably the coolest person I’ve ever met, no offence.”

“None taken.” You chuckled at how animatedly Lisa was speaking all of the sudden.

“But I didn’t have the courage to make a move.” She looked down for a second. “Can you believe it?! Me?! Lalisa Manoban Being shy?”

You both burst out laughing.

“That truly is unbelievable.” You took a sip. “But I think it only proves how much you like her. You were simply scared of messing up. That’s very cute of you.”

“Y/N, stop it.” She wasn’t amused.

“No, really. Next time you have to ask her out or at least get her number.” You continued with your nagging. Oh, how nice it felt to finally be the one giving advises.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Despite her voice, there was this goofy smile playing on her lips, as she glanced at the beach. Lisa took a deep breath before speaking again, this time she was far more serious. “Do you think there will be ‘next time’?”

You sighed.

“I’m afraid so.”

~

The weather that day in park was a huge opposite to what both Rosé and you were feeling. It was another extremely hot and sunny afternoon with no single cloud up in the sky which was the color of baby blue.

It took four long days after landing in Bangkok for Rosé to reply to your messages. You were begging her to give you a chance at explaining yourself, although a part of you didn’t know what else you could really say to her. It didn’t feel like any words could make her feel better. You just wanted to see her and how she was doing.

Rosé was the one who suggested getting iced coffee and taking a stroll to the park nearby. You truly appreciated her attempt at keeping things civilized.

She showed up wearing dark sunglasses which made everything way harder for you. You weren’t able to see her expressions properly which could cause even more unnecessary complications.

Despite it all, you were the one who ordered, while still remembering Rosé’s favorite position on the menu and paid. It was the least you could do, you kept repeating to yourself.

After you handed your ex-girlfriend her cup, both of you crossed the street and dived into the park. At first, it was silent and awkward. You hesitated, but you knew you had to be the one to start.

“I’m not sure how to do this properly. I just feel like no matter what I say I... I’ll end up hurting you more and trust me, when I say this, Roseanne Park, I would never ever hurt you intentiona-”

“But you did, Y/N.” She cut you off with a harsh, but tired voice. “And I will never believe you saying that you didn’t think kissing her wouldn’t hurt me.”

You looked down at your cup and reminded yourself that this new Rosé was the outcome of your own actions. Only you were the reason for her current behaviour to be so different from what you were so used to. She was no longer polite and incredibly kind, she especially didn’t have to pretend to be nice to you.

“What I really want to know, though is were you drunk?... Do you even regret this?” She asked in a small tone.

“I did drink, but I can’t say I was drunk. I was fully aware of what I was doing.” Total honesty was once again the very least you could do in that situation. Rosé deserved to know the whole ugly truth. Although, a big part of you wanted to ignore her second question. “I had no idea that after all this time... All these feelings- they would still be there. It seemed like nothing changed at all.”

There was a bit of silence again, Rosé had to really digest your words, before choosing to speak again. In the meantime you had a full blown fight going on in your head, already regretting what you’d said.

“What are your plans now? Are you going to go back to her?”

“Well, we uh... We haven’t really talked about it.” You gulped, feeling like an idiot. “So it’s hard to tell at the moment.”

Rosé gave a small nod, it was barely visible with how she kept her pace steady and her sunglasses staring ahead.

“Look, I know that I failed you.” You breathed out, the cup in your hands began slightly shaking. “I know that I broke your trust, I lied when I said that I could handle myself all alone at that party. Maybe if you didn’t go to Australia, it’d be different, but I wanted you to see your family too. Please, Rosé, I’ve never meant bad for you. You’re one of the loveliest, coolest people I’ve ever met. I’m deeply sorry.”

As you were nearing a bench underneath a big tree, hidden from the sunlight, Rosé sat down, wanting to rest from the intense sunshine.

“Maybe one day you’ll forgive me, I’m truly sorry.” You joined her in a heartbeat.

“I’m not blaming you.” All of the sudden, she exhaled tiredly and took off her sunglasses, letting you fully see her sunken, pale face. Her beautiful, brown eyes were puffy and bloodshot red like she’d been crying for these whole past few days. And you’d thought that it was because of the weather. “Only myself for leaving.”

“Rosie, stop please.” You felt tears blurring your vision and you wondered how on Earth she was able to have this conversation without crying. But then again, you thought, Rosé looked like she had already cried enough over you.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and realized that how you said Minnie was your first love... You are mine. No matter how much I loathe it.” She chuckled sadly.

Meanwhile you were at loss of words, just observing her flawless profile. You admired her for avoiding your eyes all this time.

“And who am I to stand between you two? I mean, I can’t just make you stop loving her and if I’m not the only person in your heart then I don’t think we can be together. Especially after that kiss, I don’t want to be the only one who’s blindly in love in this relationship. I deserve better and I know that.”

Your heart ached proudly hearing her words. At least Rosé knew her worth and was both strong and smart enough to accept life the way it was.

“It’s true, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. I had it all with you and still... did what I did.” You began drawing circles on your cup of coffee in order to ease some of the nerves. “But I know there is someone out there, who’ll understand you, make you laugh, treasure you, respect you and love you like you’re meant to.”

At that, Rosé turned to look at you. She almost looked like she didn’t believe you.

“And if they don’t do all of that, just contact me. I’ll kick their ass.” Maybe it was inappropriate, trying to joke right then and there but you wanted her to see that you’re still there for her, still having her back.

She let her eyes wander all around your face as if she was trying her best to memorize it. As if it was the last time she’d be able to see it. And that’s when her focus found your lips.

You knew what was coming when Rosé leaned in. With a heavy heart you shared your goodbye kiss.

~

Knock, knock.

You let out a big breath, while waiting at Minnie’s doorstep.

One more conversation had to be made.

“Y/N! Oh how nice it is to see you again. Come in!” You relaxed some when Minnie’s mom opened the door. “Nicha had a few appointments, but she should be back soon.”

You followed her to the kitchen, where at least four traditional Thai dishes were being cooked. Most of them were probably Minnie’s cravings.

“It’s alright, I can wait here with you, if you don’t mind.”

“Nonsense, honey. You’re always welcomed here, even when Nicha’s in Korea or God knows where else. This place right here is your home, as well. Never, forget that.”

The two of you had a heartwarming, long chat. You even managed to help a little with all the cooking Mrs. Yontararak had planned out. With the radio playing in the background, time flew by quickly and productively. Once every dish was ready, Minnie’s mom took you for a little tour around the house in order to show you what had changed through these past years. Mainly, it was either new furniture in the guest bedroom, refreshed walls colors, new paintings here and there. What amazed you the most was an old picture of Minnie, Lisa and you together hung up in one of the halls. The three of you were smiling brightly, unaware of what the future held. It was probably from primary school. You couldn’t believe that it was still there. So much has changed.

Suddenly, older woman’s phone rang. She excused herself and headed to the main bedroom. You used that occasion to sneak into Nicha’s old room, that was just on the other side of the picture wall you were staring at.

You gasped at how different it looked like. Almost every piece of furniture was brand new, the bed was bigger and what caught your attention the most was how messy it was. You remembered Minnie being a very clean and quite strict person. She was probably leaving in a hurry or writing something very intensively. Several paper balls all over the floor proved that theory. There were a few of crossed out pages on her desk too, but one of them was quite readable. You didn’t mean to be noisy, but just simply couldn’t help yourself.

‘Don't you go falling in love

Trust me she's not the one

She won't ever

Love you like I do

Hold you like I do, know you like I do

Don't you go fallin' in love

'Cause I'ma break that shit up

I won't let her

Love you like I do

Touch you like I do, nothing like I do

Nothing like I do’

With a frown you wandered through the text twice, it seemed like Minnie was busy with songwriting. You weren’t given a lot of time to think, as the door opened suddenly and you met those brown eyes again.

“Sorry I kept you waiting.” Minnie was wearing gym clothes and was still slightly out of breath. It didn’t stop her from taking my breath away either. “And sorry for all the mess.”

“What is this?” You addressed the potential lyrics.

Minnie sighed heavily, before organizing some of them.

“I was writing a song. Still am actually.” She was looking everywhere but you.

“This one sounds pretty personal.” You weren’t stupid and knew damn well it was about you. You just wanted to toy with her and make her confess few things.

“Okay, what do you want me to say, Y/N? That I wrote a song about you?” Minnie looked you straight in the eyes this time. As she was speaking she was taking small steps in your direction. “‘Blow your mind’, ‘Dahlia’, ‘For you’, ‘Paradise’. They’re all about you.”

Now, she was only inches away.

“Tell me where we’re going from here.” You felt flattered, both at her words and also because of how close the two of you were again. You just lived for these short moments of proximity with your Nicha. There was nothing that could stop your little smile from spreading coyly.

“I love you, Y/N. I think I always will.” Minnie said softly. “I tried moving on from you so many times. But what can I say, you’re my paradise.”

You cupped her cheeks, smiling like a dork because of how she was even capable of rhyming her love for you, you and pressed a shy kiss against her lips, it was a peck really. But Minnie wasn’t satisfied and craved more of you. With a whine she pulled at your neck and forced you to give her a real kiss. As always before, your lips molded together perfectly. Her tongue was determined to fight for dominance although your constant smile made it impossible for the two of you to continue.

“Stop with that.” Minnie scolded you between her own giggles. There was nothing better in this world than her laughing into the kiss. Your kiss.

“I can’t help it.” You shrugged, letting her lean most of her body weight on you, as she clung to you in a warm embrace. “I’m happy.”

“Me too.” Her fingers walked through your hair, as she hummed with her eyes plesantly lidded. “I’m finally happy here in Thailand.”

[miribooksies]

Jack and the Cockoo Clock Heart (2013)- Movie, Spoilers

HEHEHEHEHHEHHEHEHE

I watched this movie when I was a kid, tiny me, and I found it again because its songs kept worming around my head, and I'm so glad I did.

It starts with a our protagonist, Jack, being born in the coldest day on earth, his heart is frozen, so it is then replaced with a clock. It all starts from this, his heart. This movie is, in my opinion, a tragedy, but I think it's very debatable and interpretation-oriented.

The art style is very captivating, making everyone look like some sort of pristine doll. The backgrounds are very thought out and a highlight with how imaginative it is and how much it aids the story, especially regarding time-skips and travel. THE MUSIC IS AWESOME, I enjoyed this the MOST, it's very rhythmic, very thematic, and it explores multiple genres and atmospheres depending on what part of the story they're currently on. The MUSIC WAS MY FAVORITE, if nothing else just watch it for the melodies.

That being said the story is very captivating too, it's very motive driven, so it's very fast paced (including the dialogue, but I think it's because of the translation from French and not a choice to cut time) and every moment is key to the storytelling. Despite this quick pace, it is a slow burn, but they do a very good job of keeping it dynamic while keeping the tension of the main plot.

It is, however, a very sexual story, despite nothing being very explicit. The sister-figures of Jack are sex workers, when Jack meets his love interest (IMO most important part of the story, and best chorus, and very stunning atmosphere) he references tearing her dress to confetti with his teeth which ???? he's a kid in this moment so that was very confusing and weird, relationship between George Meliès and the two headed woman, and other instances of sexual innuendo achieved in many, many angles. I feel this is very notable, since Jack never is involved with anything. Being so enamored with Miss Acacia and his heart situation, we can probably assume he's a virgin, yet it doesn't stop the main and side romances from being very suggestive.

From what I hear the book is much more sexual, and the presence of it in his childhood in both book and movie is commonly tied to the sister-like sex workers, who are very open about their work and do share work stories in front of Jack.

Miss Acacia's powers are also never noted, which is strange because it isn't like every stranger walking the street suddenly sprouts thorns around their body or purple cones in their tits, it might've been very intentional though? I like the fact it was never a center of attention, and I think it really aids characterizing Acacia, pushing forward a fairly well-rounded character for the short amount of time. It helps us visually see her feelings, emotions, and intentions, kind of like wearing her heart on her sleeve.

On that same locomotive of thought, Joe has the same birthday as Jack, which is such a random piece of lore to drop, but giving it a bit of thought forms a solid idea. Jack was born on the coldest day on Earth, this is what caused for his heart to be mechanical, meaning that Joe was also born in that same coldness, but we don't see him walking around with his own pendulum, so why is that? Probably because, following the film's very direct and literal nature, his heart is simply cold, which pushes him to be as cruel as he is to Jack.

It might've been because it was 1 AM and because the beat might've scared me, but I really felt the final kiss in my chest, and I think the building up of the whole narrative really makes this such a good ending. If it's a good ending is probably debatable, but me personally I appreciated the direction in which it was taken, and that the tragedy was taken to the end, without letting go of the romantic plot for a second. It feels very complete, I guess. Even as he climbs the snowflakes, it feels very true to the story, that's probably why I like it so much.

Props to the whole team honestly they REALLY know how to make atmosphere, and the way they used those tools to convey storytelling is PHENOMENAL!!

I also see where and why the movie could be strongly disliked, if you end up hating it, but I thought it was fire.

I watched it here!

[dramallamas]

The (unserious) notes of Beyond Evil, Episode 2!

Previous Episode || Next Episode

bro this body really dragged everyone out there. all our side characters are here.

"there's mud everywhere" my guy youre in a field what do you expect

"could it be a pervert obsessed with feet?" that doesnt narrow down the list that much in this day and age...

Lee Dongsik was sexy in his 20s 30s and 40s not every man can pull that off. Lee Dongsik the man you are

oh and he's here too (Juwon)

Dongsik is also a little shit and i love him for that.

“Do you like me that much?” Houston I’m deceased.

HE DIDNT SAY NO

Man we get flirting in Episode Two damn we get fed well as a community.

“Isnt she your sister, Lee Yuyeon?” LIARRRR

“The recording room isn’t your bedroom.” As in both of theirs? Because I have read the fics 👀

How warm is the recording room is my question. Because if its like my bedroom then shits freezing

I have said this once and will say it again lee Dongsik is a sexy mf

“I got lured?” Juwons face pls he is so confused.

THE SCORE AND SOUNDS GOD PROPS TO THE MUSIC PPL

Juwons disgust is so amusing.

Bro it must suck to be talked about when you are right here.

Part of me is curious as to how Dongsik went from Lee Dohyun Dongsik to Shin Hakyun Dongsik. Like we get hints in flashbacks but not much more.

We act like Juwon had this sudden shift in how he reacts to Dongsik after his Busan trip but it was there the whole time just a lot more subtle.

Juwon looking at dirt is me looking at Jinmuk. Fricken gross.

“Touch it (my phone) again and your fingers will…” shit man

Also unpopular opinion incoming: not the biggest fan of minjeong. Shes tragic and interesting enough but she is also the type of person I would avoid being friends with

We dont give Jeongje enough credit for him standing up to his mother passive aggressively.

THE FIRST RAIN SCENE ITS HERE

All good things happen in the rain in this show and I stand by that.

This one melts my heart (and Juwon’s too)

He just stares at Dongsik smiling… perhaps he cant be all that bad hey Juwon.

HAN KIHWAN GTF OUT OF HERE

Also juwon can I have that jumper pls? At least tell me where u got it (that blue one he wore with the stripes on his arm).

Juwon in casual clothing is smth we dont see enough of especially at the start of the show

Juwon proving he is just as insane as Dongsik in this scene but also just as driven about solving what really happened. Two sides of the same coin.

Also we do not give the camera ppl enough credit either the way they shoot the scenes is incredible and rlly captures both the character and their thoughts/feelings as well as their situation and vibes of the scene.

“I don’t like solving riddles” juwon aint that ur job…?

Tiny hc: jeongje learnt some english words and slips them into his conversations to add fuel to his lie of ‘studying in america’

“There isnt a single cop in the country wjk would prioritise such a case.” Jeongje says to Juwon, who is prioritising such a case.

Juwon nearly losing his cool is so interesting and important to me.

Juwon doesnt fuck with people telling him to stay quiet thats for sure.

Ok so Dongsiks mum sees Dongsiks dad frozen to death and calls him 동식(이?) 아버지 (Dongsiks dad). like imagine u mother calls ur dad "(your name)'s dad!" is this a thing in korea or a script choice?

Tfw you hear the tragic backstory of ur suspect/future bf

part of me thinks dongsiks limp/leg injury might be psychosomatic, at least a little bit.

jihwas contact name for dongsik being 똥식 is so funny. (동 is how its supposed to be 똥, pronounced only slightly differently means shit/poop)

Underrated friendship Jaeyi and Jihoon moment.

God I hate clubs sm (I have been and ended up stressed depressed and just on the verge of tears by the end of it and I was dead sober)

Dongsik is in protective dad mode and he stands for womens rights (and probably womens wrongs) and i love that.

I am aware that this episode 2 notes is mostly just me loving Dongsik.

Everyone beind done with minjeon is also me.

"Dongsik I wasnt cheating on you..." girl youre giving Juwon the wrong ideas. also dongsik would deserve better than you anyway

Juwon rn "this girl is insane... idk what i expected because this is manyang but she rlly is and I am not dealing with it"

Juwon not being a physical touch person and valuing personal space a lot and Dongsik being an exception is everything to me.

also underrated duo moment of Juwon and Jihoon

Honestly Juwon Jaeyi Jihoon friendship trio should be a thing in fics

Actually Dongsik isnt that much shorter than Juwon... huh...

The shot where they are both looking down... I should use that as my laptop wallpaper tbh

Minjeongs death sequence gives me the chills every time.

Them talking about the death body and Jinmuk being in the shade in the background with Jaeyi... means smth but im not smart enough yet.

Dongsiks case wall for Yuyeon in his basement genuinely makes me cry knowing the truth about it

'hey bitch 😏' is the energy we have rn

Bro cannot control his emotions well around Dongsik

“Let me give you a thorough tour of our jurisdiction” is Dongsik code for, ‘follow me I need to show you something’

I remember this scene being the netflix preview (the one where juwon states that he wants to move to manyang) for beyond evil and I remember thinking… what a shit scene to preview to convince ppl to watch the show. However… I think otherwise because…

“Just what about me interests you so much? I don’t think it’s that I’m a cop. Perhaps that I’m a suspect?”

“Let me ask you. Just what about me interests you so much? You obviously seem to be dying to know what I was up to at Foreign Affairs.”

THAT PART IS CONVINCING ASF HELLO

And then… pain.

Juwon hesitating and genuinely looking torn deciding what to do. Does he call it in or… what? Comfort Dongsik? Probably considered how he reacts upon hearing Dongsik start to cry before realising why. His entire face screams “I’m so sorry…”

And Dongsik oh my god. Even though we know he put them there I think this is the first time he properly grieved it, even if only a little.

He probably did it to bust the case back open again so he and the vicitims can get justice.

And fin. See you next ep!

[chaotic-super]

The Vampire Woman - 5

It’s tense. The only sound in the lab is the slow melody of drop after drop of blood dripping into the blood bag Lena set up, the needle in Kara’s arm doing its job of channelling it right out of her.

For the most part, Kara is just lying back and looking anywhere but at Lena, not wanting to look at the woman that has forced her into this scenario. She’s donated blood before but this is the first time she’s ever donated any to a vampire, let alone a vampire that has tried to kill her on more than one occasion.

The minutes pass by slower than any that Kara has lived through before and unbeknownst to her, Lena feels the same way, the awkwardness permeating through the air, wrapping around them like a big fluffy blanket in the summertime, overheating them and making them unbearably uncomfortable.

Lena sits a little ways away, within arm’s reach but far enough away that she doesn’t feel like she’s crowding around Kara, not wanting the skittish woman to up and run, something that she’s looking like she might do the longer she’s lying on the bed.

Kara tries everything to avoid looking over at Lena and keeping her mind blank, keeping herself distracted from the whole situation. She tries counting the ceiling tiles, she tries planning her next article for work, she tries just clicking the heels of her shoes together like she’s Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz and doing so will take her home.

None of it works but she can tell the clicking of her shoes is annoying Lena so she keeps going, her own tiny bit of revenge against the woman that shoved her face into a wall.

Lena bounces a knee where she sits, growing faster in haste with each click reaching her ears, vibrating down her spine like electricity, her vampire ears picking up the sound in a way that Kara’s can’t, amplifying the sound until it’s like she’s standing next to a speaker at a concert, except rather than music, it’s an annoying rhythmic clicking.

“Can you not, please?” Lena’s shoulder hunch up, partially covering her ears.

With the roll of her eyes, Kara agrees, stilling her feet and going back to staring at the ceiling, not sure what else she can do. “How much longer?”

The vampire checks the bag, seeing that they are a little over a pint, she lets the human know. “Just over half way, another few minutes.

Kara huffs. “If I had my phone then I could at least be playing Angry Birds while we wait.”

Lena can’t find it in her to be shocked by anything this woman says, she definitely doesn’t say what people would expect her to, her situational awareness a little bit skewed. Not that Lena would actually say that to her lest she be on the receiving end of a flying garlic clove again, something that she’d really quite like to avoid.

Instead of commenting on her whining, Lena just does the only thing she can think of to try and relieve some of the stifling awkwardness. Gripping the phone in her pocket, Lena pulls it out and goes through her apps, poking at the phone with one finger until she finds the one she’s looking for.

She watches it open and then presses the phone into Kara’s hands, not saying a word, and sits back down.

On instinct, Kara clutches at the phone when it touches her hand and she finds her fingers wound around it before she can process why she has the phone belonging to a vampire in her hand. Her eyes fix on it and recognition rolls over her face like a wave. Open on the screen is Tetris, something to keep her occupied.

For the first time since she climbed up onto the bed, Kara looks at Lena, her eyes wide with shock. “Oh…um…thanks.” The words are mumbled, confusion hiding within them.

With all that’s happened, the attacks, the lack of sleep and then having a random guy threaten her with a gun, this is all just a lot. She has no idea what this vampire actually wants, one minute she’s being pinned down and grabbed and told that she’s going to die and the next she’s being all nice and helpful and letting her play Tetris. What gives?”

“I don’t understand.” Kara says after a brief pause.

Looking at her curiously, Lena asks, “what don’t you understand? The game? It’s pretty easy, you just-“

“No, not that.” Kara interrupts. “I don’t understand why you’re being nice to me all of a sudden.”

Lena should have known that would be it. Her behaviour has been admittedly erratic to put it lightly and she hasn’t given the woman any reason to trust her. On top of everything she did, her driver decided to threaten her on the way over here when he doesn’t even know what’s going on other than this woman is donating blood.

Maybe he is just more astute than she gives him credit for. It’s no secret that she’s a vampire, it would be impossible to hide it from the staff closest to her, so maybe he could tell how desperate she had gotten and decided to make sure she would get the blood she needs, it’s hard to say though and none of it excuses his actions, the same way her previous desperation doesn’t excuse her own actions.

Lena’s eyebrows flick upwards briefly while she thinks of how to reply to Kara’s assessment, not sure how to explain without excusing herself, to apologise for something terrible without the woman feeling pressured to forgive, to promise to leave her alone but also beg her to stay and finish donating.

 “I’m sorry about that.” Lena pauses, her hands twisting on her lap. “I wasn’t myself when I attacked you, not completely.”

Kara squints at her, “that’s it? That’s all you got?” Her chest is heaving pretty noticeably, a healthy mix of anxiety and unease the cause.

Lena curls into herself a touch but answers. “There isn’t much else to say, but please, you need to relax. It’s not good for you to be all worked up when you’re donating blood.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I would hate for my blood to taste off because I’m not relaxed.” Kara answers sarcastically sitting up.

“Not because of that, you idiot.” Lena rushes to push her back down before retreating again. “It’s so you don’t hurt yourself, and yes, I’m sorry I don’t have a better answer for you. I’m a damn vampire and I went feral from hunger, no I couldn’t help it, yes I feel bad, no I’m not planning on hurting you, yes I’m going to drink your blood, no it won’t affect the taste if you’re not relaxed, just please don’t hurt yourself because you hate me. You can hate me all you want but I don’t want you to hurt yourself more than I already did, ok?”

Kara stares at her, brain scrambling to keep up with everything that Lena has just said to her, voice never once raised, tone even and precise, the words simple but message kind of confusing. “Ok.” She lets out.

“Good. We’re almost done with the blood, just another half of a pint and then we can unhook you, unless you aren’t feeling good, we can stop if you want to?”

A simple shake of her head in reply, Kara keeps thinking over Lena’s words from before.

Her mind just can’t connect the dots. She can’t see how someone can get so hangry that they want to kill a stranger and she can’t see how they can be so hangry that they would come back for a second try.

“Why me? And why did you come back the second time?”

“You were the first person I came across, you were in the perfect place for me to kill you without being caught and then when I didn’t go through with it my inner vampire kind of had it out for you. It’s like I have an inner demon or something when I’m like that, when I’m starving, and I don’t always feel like I can resist.

“When I let you go, it angered me, it made me feel weak and I don’t like feeling that way so I made it my business to kill you, to go back for a second go. I’ve never changed my mind before, backed out of a kill, it unsettled me.”

Kara’s eyebrows scrunch, knees raising up on the bed, unconsciously protecting herself. “How many people have you killed?”

“More than I wish to admit. I have lived for many centuries and it’s only in the past couple of centuries that vampires started being able to get blood bags, it was started by a vampire sympathiser that worked at a blood bank, they stole blood and when it started to make them money, they started donating their own blood and getting more people to do the same in exchange for a cut of the money. It’s not exactly cheap.”

“If it’s as widespread as you say, why can’t you get the bags now?”

“More and more places are being shut down or attacked by vampires, there’s a lot that still very much believe that killing is the only way, that you aren’t a true vampire if you don’t take the blood right out of your victim. It makes it difficult for vampires like me that don’t want to kill but when we can’t get blood, it increases our drive to kill, to do whatever it takes to get blood.”

This is a lot more than what Kara was expecting, she doesn’t want to be involved in all of this, not really but it is remarkable in a terrifying way. She has so many questions and really wishes she had her tape recorder on her, or a working phone.

Tilting her head, she thinks back to what Lena had told her earlier. “So, you’ve had blood since last night, want to tell me how?”

“Jess donated some of her own to me. She has done it before but I don’t like to ask her, she does a lot for me but I called her after I left your place so that could tell her I had someone to donate and she put two and two together that I was really desperate for blood, well that and the fact that I hadn’t shown up to work in days. I still need more, these two pints will help me immensely and buy me some time, hopefully by then I will be able to track down a few new suppliers.”

Kara wants to interview her. Preferably when they are on opposite sides of a wall, preferably one made of bulletproof glass, but she does want to interview her. She’s about to ask her for an official interview when Lena stands. “You’re all done, let me just unhook you.”

Kara fights to stay still while the other woman pulls the needle out of her arm, her cool fingers gliding over her skin slightly in the process. She presses a cotton ball to the area where the needle slid out of and tapes it down.

“You just stay there for a little while, I don’t want you passing out on me.” Lena hits her with a tiny smile and Kara hates herself a little for thinking about how pretty she looks in that moment.

“Are you not drinking it now?” Kara asks, watching as Lena starts sealing the bag of blood.

Lena pauses halfway through. “I- no. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t want me to be uncomfortable.” Kara laughs, a genuine sound that surprises both of them. “Sorry, that’s just funny after everything.”

Lena’s lips quirk up, the urge to join in with the soft laughter of the blonde overtaking her until she’s chuckling along with her, head dipped down so she’s facing the floor. “It’s alright, I suppose I deserved that. I was going to wait until after you leave so you don’t have to watch, I hate to admit it, but I am quite a messy eater.”

“You haven’t seen me when I have Big Belly Burger then, those burgers don’t stand a chance against me and they end up half across my face by the time I’m done.” Kara snorts. “Actually, can you eat burgers, just out of curiosity?”

“I can but only for taste, they do not satisfy my hunger.”

“What about animals? Can you drink their blood?”

“That’s repulsive.” Lena’s face scrunches up in disgust. “It tastes absolutely, gut wrenchingly bad. I don’t think I can express just how bad.”

Eyebrows raised and lips pursed, Kara disagrees. “I think you just did.”

Lena’s cheeks are incapable of looking flushed, her cheeks forever a shade of white that is usually reserved for daisies but by the look on her face, Kara can determine that if she could blush, she would be doing so right now, her entire essence radiating bashful energy in waves. “I guess so.”

“You can drink it as long as you promise you’re not going to come over here for seconds.” Kara’s eyes darken to show how serious she is but she keeps her tone light, no wanting to ruin the somewhat peaceful atmosphere they have managed to build.

Lena looks down at the bag and then back to Kara. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Lena looks unsure for a few more seconds, still not convinced. “Ms Luthor, I’m serious, just drink it, I’ll feel better knowing that you’re not starving, you’ll be less likely to eat me then.”

“We don’t eat people, we just drink their blood, and call me Lena, Ms Luthor was my mother and she was a real bitch.”

Kara rolls her eyes at Lena’s clarification. “And you’re not a bitch?”

“Not most of the time, you caught me on a bad day.”

“I’m pretty sure you caught me.”

“Technicalities.” Lena lifts the bag of blood up to her face while Kara watches with rapt attention as her sharp teeth piece through it, blood dripping into the vampire’s mouth and partially down her chin too. The red liquid seeps right out of the bag and it’s drained in record time, Kara watching on I shock at how quickly Lena has finished it.

She pulls the empty bag away from her lips, using her fingers to catch some of the blood from her chin and pushing it into her mouth, “damn, you have some good blood.”

“Um, thanks.” Kara replies, not sure what the appropriate response to that actually is.

Lena makes her way across the room to get a napkin, her chin stained red despite her attempt to scoop it all up. “Let me guess, B positive?”

“You got it.”

Lena smiles, napkin running over her chin. “I love Type B…and A, and O, and AB. I love it all, it tastes awesome.”

Kara grimaces. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Lena just smiles, grabbing a little compact mirror out of her purse that is hanging on a coat stand in the corner. She uses it to get all of the excess blood from around her mouth, checking she hadn’t missed any. “I feel so much better now and I can assure you, I no longer want to kill you.”

“Well, uh, thanks.”

Lena smiles widely, finally content after being hungry for so long. She moves back around the room to where she has a little mini fridge, probably usually used for chemicals of some sort but not today. Today she pulls out a chilled bottle of water and a sandwich. “Here, I got these for you earlier to help get your strength back. You can stay as long as you need and then I will drive you home.”

“Thanks.” Kara says, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed to get closer and take the water and sandwich from Lena but the movement is too much, her head is spinning and she suddenly can’t tell where she’s facing, her ability to tell up from down displaced. “Woah.”

Kara grabs her head with one hand, her other falling to the bed to try and stabilize herself. Her hand slips though and she thinks she might be about to fall, that is until two freezing hands wrap around her biceps, pushing her back around until she’s lying back again, her legs being lifted back up right after and the water uncapped and pressed into her hands.

“Hey, listen, you need to drink. Can you hear me?” Lena is standing over her, hands fidgeting in front of her, not entirely sure what to do from here.

Kara tries to nod but the motion makes her feel worse, nausea creeping up on her. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Lena’s eyes go wide and using her inhuman speed, she rushes to grab a trashcan, holding it next to Kara. Kara leans towards it but just breathes heavily for a minute, fighting it back before leaning away. “Ok, I think I’m alright, I’m not gonna puke.”

“Are you sure?”

“No.” Kara suddenly moves, shooting towards it and emptying her stomach. There’s not a lot to be thrown up really though, she hasn’t eaten since dinner time last night, so it’s mostly just bile.

Lena, for the most part, has no idea what to do. She just holds the trashcan in place with one hand and holds Kara’s hair back with the other.

Kara keeps going for a minute, heaving and spluttering into the can before plopping back down and using her sleeve to wipe her mouth.

Standing at her side, Lena can’t wipe the guilty look from her face. “I shouldn’t have taken so much. I thought that since you’re so healthy we could get away with two pints. I don’t understand what went wrong.”

Kara looks at her through half shut eyes, “give me that damn sandwich, I’m starving, and I’m tired. That’ll be the problem.”

Obeying her as fast as she can, Lena hands her the sandwich, watching reverently as she eats it bite by bite, washing it down with water every now and again. a

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Please stop talking, you’re giving me a migraine.”

Click here to read the first 4 chapters on Ao3!

Click here to read up to chapter 8 on Patreon!

[slowdripsunrise]

ok here we go again spoilers under the cut

starting off with a banger i read The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon. holy shit it was awesome. audiobook 10/10 narrator did a phenomenal job. there were some characters that confused me, where there were a couple names for the same person and i thought they were different people, and the opposite maybe im still not quite sure.... mainly with the queen of yscalin i believe? again not 100% sure but it didn't take away from the story at all. i did really like most if not all of the characters, they were all well fleshed out in my opinion. super interested in the prequel, my favorite thing ever ever ever in stories is like. well theres the story but what happened before years ago or even centuries ago is still there. she's haunting the narrative. she's present in every timeline there was no other ending to this story etc. etc. loved it excited to get my hands on the other one and maybe also try some of shannons other books? i heard about another series but it looked a lil confusing to get into but either way i will read it. trust

after that i read Yellowface by R. F. Kuang ! not my favorite of hers bc i am more of a fantasy/sci fi/historical fiction girlie rather than lit fic but there were parts of this that did make me laugh ! its been a while but i do remember the part where the mc talks about liking eminem or something in the beginning and thinking ok yeah she's got the character down good. like yeah. anyways i do see how it's a bit on the nose and some of it seems a little out there and cartoonishly evil. and i can definitely see how a lot of the characters mirror real life people, mainly athena/rebecca. and how a lot of the criticisms towards athena are criticisms r.f. kuang has gotten/gets in the past and does she kinda just write them off as haterisms. yeah. like thats a little funny sure queen. and while yes i dooooo think that its a bit over the top some times..... having seen all of the asian phishing and race faking and pretending to be someone ur not on twitter to get published irl these past few MOnths. like in 2024 ONLY. i do think Sometimes the obviousness is necessary !. like some of you bitches did NAWT get the message. anyways the book was pretty good not my personal favorite as its just not the type of story i typically read but i will continue to read Kuang's work ! it was fun it was silly i got to laugh at a racist white woman.... and i do think it was nice how a tiny little bit of sympathy would come up for the mc in the book and then just immediately be squandered by the next stupid thing she did like it was funny. like damn okay you watched a sorta friend acquaintance die thats traumatic. oh well you stole her entire manuscript okay nevermind. oh something bad happened to you in the past that sucks for you /gen sorry. oh okay no ur using it to fuel ur racist ideas and beliefs and how nothing is actually ur fault okay man yeah i dont feel bad anymore. like it was just kinda funny how every little chance she got to do better she absolutely squashed it. astronomically. and okay last thing i think but i do like in the acknowledgements Kuang said that a lot of this book is a horror story about loneliness in an isolating industry. and thats not a direct quote but i think its the jist and yeah like. so many problems the mc had could have been solved by having real friends that cared about her and her writing and supported her when she needed it, so she didn't go and blame every other person (and minority) in her vicinity on her problems. and people to hold her accountable when she did wrong. all of the people around her were basically just yes men (when she was making them money) and so nobody checked her when she was being a fucking idiot and a racist. so like. yeah i do see how it's a horror story about loneliness, and i like that outlook on the story. it is also primarily a silly ass look into a racist white woman's brain. like okay i can see how you got to this conclusion, if everything else you have ever thought and known and been taught was wrong. like its yeah a little funny. okay i need to stop on this one i am just saying words at this point like it does need to stop. recommend as a quick read if you wanna see how a lot of racist people in the publishing industry operate. (side note that part was interesting reading about the publishing industry like taking away the racism from the mc it was interesting to see the other characters and how they operate) okay done.

NEXT i read Ghost Music by An Yu. interesting, the mushrooms were throwing me a bit and like. i do see how there is a connection between the mushrooms and the mother and her hometown and her son but its been a bit long since i read this so i do not know what the connection is yet. and what exactly this connection is trying to say. i think if i reread it i would understand more but i'm not much of a rereader and i don't think im interested enough in this book to try. dont get me wrong it was good !! i just wasn't in the correct headspace to really take it all in when i read it. the story was fun, i liked most of the characters. tbh it is very short so i feel like i didn't sit with it long enough. i also dont understand the talking mushroom. but like the vibes were there.

ALMOST THERE !!!!! i read ough okay A Tempest of Tea by Hafsah Faizal ! so. i liked it thats for sure. the characters were fun and cute i particularly liked the relationship between Jin and Flick...... they were cute. i do think as i've grown out of YA and into adult books, my standards for YA have gotten lower and lower lol. like i have high standards for my adult novels because thats what i primarily read now, but going into YA i'm looking for maybe a more specific type of vibe and less like. i don't need the highest quality ever bc i have high quality in adult books now. if you get what i mean? so like no i don't think this was Faizal's best work we hunt the flame you will always be that girl to me. BUT. i read this for the vibes and the tea and the heist and not much else. my expectations were low -that the other thing i think a lot of people came into this book with super high expectations- and i had a really good time ! i am definitely interested in the sequel- i think a lot actually maybe not a lot but some of the moments in the book were specifically written to idk maybe go viral ? like some of the dialogue and scenes i could just tell some editor or publisher really wanted to highlight it. did i see a lot of the plot twists coming. yeah. did that make it less interesting....... not really? Could it have been better. yes absolutely i think theres always room for improvement especially in YA when a lot of things are more cookie cutter. BUT. this was still fun. and i liked how the worlds are connected, arawiya is present ! although. okay. am i stupid because Laith was making references to shit i feel like i should remember but i don't.... like yes arawiya was freed by the king yes i know vaguely.... but yeah. idk. I WILL READ THE SECOND ONE !!!!!! love how this post is just me trying to remind myself to read more books lol.

NEXT i read The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow. fun book ! not much to say about it tbh i did like the vibes, don't remember the ending at all so overall i don't think this one like. really made me think or emote or whatever. i do think that the dual kinda. stories were cool i liked reading both, which is rare for me usually theres one that i like a lot more than the other. the world was cool. i had fun. i would recommend as a shorter little fantasy book....

Tread of Angels by Rebecca Roanhorse... meh. I kinda went into this knowing absolutely nothing I SEE THE VISION. god i see the vision so hard but i really think Roanhorse shines when she has a larger page number and more room to really flesh out her ideas. like because the vibe was there, it wasn't like. Present but i could get just a little taste of it and god it would have gone so hard as a fully fledged story i feel like. this one, tho, fell way flat. i did NAWT care about any of the characters at all. like the mc and her sister. were just both not great people and like neither were the rest of them and i think that was the point but like even when characters are bad you kinda wanna have to root for them at some point. and i just did not at all. Sad !. well theres other stories.

okay. last one. i finally did it after so many people raving about it and one of my friends basically forcing it on me. i read The Fifth Season by N. K. Jemison. and well like i get it. LIKE OKAYYYY I FUCKING GET IT THIS BOOK WAS AWESOME. apparently the author is on tumblr and does look for fanart so like if u see this hai :3. really really fucking good. it took me one or two tries to get into it, first with just the book, second with just the audiobook, and once i had time to sit down and read them together it was like. just flew by. i tried to pace myself but hooo boy. did i see it coming how all the characters were actually one character yes. because well i had heard how everything was connected before and well the dots came together pretty quickly. did not take away from the story at all though! if anything it made me want to read more to see when and how it all came together !! 1000000000% recommend to anyone who likes fantasy (look up trigger warnings!). the characters OUGH. the worldbuilding OUGH. that last line like OUGH. the little interludes like explaining some stuff about the world OUGH. like okay when it was talking about how yknow. how will people know whats missing when they've never had it before? like they have the stars the planets the sun and i was like well Moon? any Moons queen? and then forgot about it until the very end like OKAY YEAH THE MOON. having a moon well it does control tides and things like that. so it being missing could have a large affect on the seasons. and well yeah. also. dude the whole premise of like having to go on what u think is a stupid ass assignment with some guy you don't like but are contractually obligated to have sex with. well its fucked up first of all. but also just a little bit funny like. the mc will just be describing her day and then just "yeah and when we set up camp for the night me and this stupid ass man i hate had sex it was really bad and then we went to bed" its just a little funny like man. yeah. the polyamory was cute !!!!!!! those little moments of bliss and then it switches to a different pov and ur like god how did it go so wrong. damn. okay last thing because well this is getting long. but god there was a post i think i reblogged it but comparing two passages, one of Alabaster saying he would destroy the world for his little family, and the other from the very beginning of the story where he breaks the world and that just. is so. OUGH TO ME LIKE FAWWWWK this book is kindof making me insane and also to that point of the part in the beginning where Alabaster is breaking The Stillness well that part in the audiobook. god the narrator did such a good job that will stick in my mind forever i think. just they way they said it OUGH. fucked me up. anyways thats all if u read all this good job happy reading.

[80pairsofcrocs]

baby scarab || 31

anon - Ok I’ve like uh never done this b4 but for baby scarab what if you did like a freaky Friday thing where reader and Marc have like a nasty fight and then they wake up in each others bodies the next morning and they basically have to go through the day as each other lmfao

anon - Hear me out plz plz plz do a freaky Friday thing 4 baby scarab where Marc/steven/jake and reader have a nasty fight and wake up in each other’s bodies n have to go through the day PLZPLZPLZPLZPLZPZL

~~~

A/N : :) is all imma say

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : this is all over the place- sorry if its hard to read lol

please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait

playlist

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader

TW : medicine (pills), language, spidey stuff, tiny angst, body switch, you make the moon boys uncomfortable numerous times. let me know if i missed anything

~~~

PART 1 OF 2

~~~

last night marc ended up falling asleep before you did, which ended up in you gently pushing him down and laying on top of him to sleep yourself.

khonshu sat on the top edge of the couch the whole night, watching over you both.

both of you woke up around the same time, which was good since you had to get to work anyways and you know they would freak out if you were gone when they woke up.

so on your way to work, the crows followed you, and one even dropped another bottle cap on you.

you stuck it in your pocket and waved to the bird of course, before it flew away.

work was fast, and you were already back home, at 5 on the dot.

you sent a text to the guys phone saying you wanted a half hour to get yourself cleaned up after your long day, to which they obviously said that was fine.

so you did; you were now fresh and showered, hair still a bit wet while you gather some of your belongings and go back to your dads’ place in your comfortable clothes.

“feel better?” steven asks you from the mirror by the door as soon as you walk in.

“mhmm” you trail off, seeing that marc was staring at you from the couch, which made you get nervous for some reason.

“we are patrolling tonight” he starts and you nod, thinking back to when he said you could go with them.

“..and?” you gesture for him to continue.

he sighs and nods to himself. “and if you want to come with us, you can” he ends the sentence quietly, as you begin to buzz in excitement.

“you meant it?” you ask excitedly.

marc smiles and nods. “of course i meant it, it was a promise” he answers and you move over and around the couch to pull him up and hug him tightly.

marc hugs back until you decide to let go, looking up at him with a smile.

“when are we-“

“in like five minutes, so go back and get your suit”

“already done” you unzip your bag that you dropped by the door, revealing all the items for your suit.

“of course you carry it around with you” he says sarcastically, khonshu appearing and tilting his head at you.

“the little arachnid is coming too?” the tall bird asks, and you nod.

“yes! that means more windpipes can be broken!” he exclaims, making you snort.

“now i don’t know about that..” steven trails off, while you gather your suit in your hands and go to change in the bathroom.

you changed in record speed, leaving your goggles and mask in your pocket.

when you walked back out, marc already had the suit on, except for the mask.

marc, steven, jake, and khonshu all looked at your suit closely, never really seeing it up close before.

“and you designed that yourself?” steven asks and you nod, adjusting the gloves on your fingers.

“it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing” you say, and he hums.

“it’s very cute, good job” he tells you with a smile, and you fail to hide yours.

“yes, but it won’t protect you very well” khonshu tells you and walks so that he’s right behind you.

you’re confused when he presses the tip of the crescent on your back, and get even more confused when you feel like something is crawling up your shoulders.

marc looks at you and khonshu in shock when you all see the faded red and blue bandages wrapping around you, similar to marc and jakes suit.

the only thing different was the golden spider in the middle of your chest.

you look at you arms- legs- anything, since khonshu just decided to randomly give you a suit.

the pale red and blue bandages fit you perfectly, even over the baggy ‘suit’ you already had.

“this is amazing” you whisper to yourself, running your finger along the metal of the gold spider.

“oh my gosh you look so cool!” steven exclaims and you nod, holding your arms out.

“this is the best thing that could happen in my life” you say and turn to khonshu.

“i’ll get you some more stickers, thank you so much” you tell him and he nods.

“it is healing armor, so it will keep you safe” he added before disappearing again.

“oh thank god” you hear marc breath out as you turn to glare at him.

“i’m not that reckless” you complain and he chuckles.

“okay- fine, let’s go” he nods to the window, as the mask envelopes his face, yours doing the same.

the mask khonshu decided to give you had golden spider like eyes, two big ones where your actual eyes were, and six little ones, one set above and two below the big ones.

plus the cool this is that when you squinted your eyes, the ones on the mask did too.

“nice” you murmur to yourself, loving the mask as you look at yourself in the mirror before following marc out of the window.

he just jumped up and landed on the roof, while you had to maneuver yourself out onto the wall to climb up.

marc was already walking around on the edge of the roof, you following like a lost puppy.

“what exactly do you do when you’re patrolling?” you ask, walking beside him on the roof.

him being on the ledge meant that he was even taller than you than he was before, so you actually had to look all the way up to see him.

“just wait” he says bluntly and you groan quietly.

even though it was a bit muffled due to the mask, he still heard it.

“calm down, we’ll find something” jake tells you and you nod while looking at the stars up in the sky that are slowly making appearances as time goes on.

you feel ringing in your ears all of a sudden, making you stop and close your eyes, the golden parts on the mask closing too.

marc notices this, and stops as well. “what is it?” he asks, hopping off the ledge to stand right by you.

“it’s coming from a couple blocks down- the gas station” you inform him, the ringing going away.

you’re so happy you accepted peters help, otherwise your senses wouldn’t be able to tell you exactly what was happening.

“good, then let’s go” was the last thing marc said to you before running off and basically flying a few blocks down.

luckily there were tall light posts, so you could swing there after him.

you two ended up peaking over another ledge of a roof, seeing two people trying to break into the closed gas station.

“we have to make a plan” marc tells you but you just keep staring.

you look at marc for a split second and nod quickly, waiting until he looks away from you to make your move.

would marc get mad at you?

probably.

will it be worth it to prove that you can handle yourself?

also probably.

so once marc looked away, you hoped steven and jake wouldn’t rat you out as you jumped off the roof and onto the wall, sticking to it before swinging over to the gas station.

you do hear someone rushing after you though. that being marc obviously.

you approach the two people who keep failing at breaking open the door.

you shoot a web out at each of them as marc gently shoves you behind him, making you lose your focus and making your webs land beside the people instead of on them.

“hey- what the hell?” you exclaim, marc taking care of both the bad people.

“stay back” he points at you. “you can try again at the next one” he tells you, taking care of the guys himself, you glaring while your arms are crossed.

“i had them!” you exclaim at him once he’s done, and walking back towards the alleyway across the street.

“no you didn’t, you didn’t listen to me when i said we needed a plan” he says sternly, pulling you along by your forearm.

“but i-“

“zip it”

“marc, be nice she’s trying her best” steven argues.

“her best could get her killed”

“she has healing armor now, idiot” jake cuts in, you just listening while following marc along while he makes sure you’re with him by holding onto your arm.

“yeah, marc i had it” you say kind of sadly, making him sigh.

“i know, i’m just nervous” he starts. “i can’t see you hurt again” he tells you and you scoff.

“i was caught off guard last time” you say offendedly.

“you were kidnapped, y/n” 

the conversation died there, not having anything else to say.

you two did find someone trying to break into a car, which resulted in you almost being shot by the man before jake fronted and beat the shit out of him before marc came back.

you did get a few good hits in, but so did the man and you could already feel a bruise forming on your cheek and shoulder.

marc basically pushed you through the window when you guys got back home, the armor khonshu gave you fading off at the same time marc’s does.

“what did i say the first time?” marc asks you, waiting for you to answer.

your back was turned to him, as you sigh. “you said to wait for a plan” you mumble and marc nods.

“and you didn’t do that, you just jumped right in and played hero again”

“successfully” you mumble.

“yes but that’s not the point” marc starts, but is interrupted by steven.

“how about we all calm down a bit, yeah?” he states nervously.

“do you not care?” marc asks steven and he immediately denies his claim.

“i do care! i just understand y/ns reasoning” he responds and you sigh, rubbing your eyes.

“you obviously don’t-“

“he does, puta.” jake starts. “the bird gave her healing armor, so even if she did get shot she would be fine”

“how can you say that so calmly?” marc exclaims, while you watch the three argue with wide eyes, standing with your hands in your pockets.

“because she knows what she’s doing” jake defends you, and you sigh, finally speaking up.

“if you hadn’t pushed me out of the way i could’ve handled it” you say, and marc gives you a look.

“you just worry me” marc starts. “it’s just-“

“you don’t think i’m strong enough, i get it” you cut him off, turning around and taking off your short sleeve shirt, leaving you in the thin hoodie.

“no that’s not what i’m saying” marc follows you as you walk around the counter and into the kitchen to get an ice pack from the freezer.

since you finally bought them one for a five month anniversary gift.

“it is what you’re saying, i know how you feel about me going out and fighting crime” you say quietly, holding the ice pack to your face.

marc doesn’t say anything, his demeanor just changes, and a more relaxed figure takes over.

“he’s sorry, love” steven tells you and you nod.

“i uh.. i understand why he’s worried” you begin, steven nodding.

“i’m no hero” you take a breath. “anyone could’ve been bit by the spider, and it just happened to be me”

“i just.. i didn’t want to waste an opportunity like this. i want to be someone” you stammer over your words.

steven sighs and cokes closer to you. “you already are someone” 

“you just need to find out who” stevens position changes again, jake now present in front of you.

“both of these idiots are right” jake starts. “the bite doesn’t define who you are, you don’t need to let it stop you from doing this or that”

you nod, and jake pulls you into his side. “we don’t want you to feel bad about yourself, you’re our kid” he tells you softly and you chuckle breathily.

“thank you, papa” you bring your hand up to squeeze his arm, then moving to go into the bathroom.

“i’m going to change and-“

“and then you’re coming to bed, you need rest”

you snort and do as he said, sitting on the bed next to him once you’re done changing.

“is marc still mad at me?” you ask jake, noticing that steven and marc weren’t seen in the reflections, signaling that they were done interacting for the night.

“he’s not mad at you, princesa” he responds and you hum, letting jake push you down so that you’re laying beside him.

“but he sounded mad” you retort and jake sighs. 

“he’s not mad at you” jake tells you.

“he’s just worried?” you guess and he nods.

you hum again as jake puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him.

“don’t worry about it, just get some sleep you’ll feel better in the morning” was the last thing jake said before you fell asleep.

but what you didn’t know, was that you wouldn’t feel better in the morning.

it was the exact opposite.

let’s just say you won’t exactly feel like yourself.

~~~

A/N : sorry its short, ive just been busy for the past few days, hope you like the first part to these requests, stay tuned for part 2 <3 love you guys :))

taglist ---

@alexloveskili @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @thebiggestsimpshrimp @guyinachair27 @astrobuzzsstuff @mooonlight-and-stars @moonlighting87 @mateihavenoidea @inactive-things @alondrashultz @femalemarvelself @queenthorin1 @haileymorelikestupid @jvdethirlwall @justtiredandvibing @winterfrostsarmy @themapoftinyperfectthings @littlebird101 @atzlena @httpslinow @arrowurboat @m-brekker @lifeandbandmembers-blog @adamcarlsenslvr @violet-19999 @seninjakitey @bestgirlpip @panic-in-the-multiverse @in-between-the-cafes @branolagar @bl6o6dy @annoyingmarvelreader @bee-a-cool-kid @buzzitsbeee @wintergirlsoilder2 @crow-carcass @you-bloody-shank @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @magnificentcreatorpenguin @50shadesofcrocs @rayrlupin @kingshitonly @brekkers-desigirl @hutaos-gh0st @kayane28

[stagefoureddiediaz]

5x11 Costume meta

Now I’ve had a little time to process here is the 5x11 meta. 

Lets start at the beginning and work our way through!!

May is in yellow and stripes!! - so we are getting communication - and a change of direction - in this instance she is communicating about Eddies change of direction from firefighter to public service officer!

Then we get to the Eddie montage which I wrote about in my sneak peak meta so I’m just gonna post it below to save repeating myself!

I couldn’t resist topless stretching Eddie 

Eddies colour palette appears to have been reduced down to black, white and  grey - those are the only colour tees we’re seeing him in that clip - there is literally no colour left in his world - other than the blue of his uniform - and when you’ve reduced your world down like that and your job isn’t fulfilling - well we all know how its going to go - on the floor sobbing! They are also slightly over sized - the life he’s now living doesn’t fit him and its sucking the life out of him, the fact that they’re a bit looser on him is designed to show a bit of weight loss - a symbol of depression, but also if al he’s got is a treadmill then he’s going to be getting leaner - loosing the conditioning that he gets from weightlifting as part of his firefighter life - getting that conditioning back will be a bit like the mental journey he’s about to go through!

all of those tees are new tees - symbolic of new era (they haven’t been broken down to make them look lived in as wardrobe would normally do) - they are fresh out the packet crisp (think about the one in 2x07 when he gets dressed after sex with Shannon - stretched out and worn looking!) but them being so new and crisp is also a sign of Eddie trying to re-invent himself as this new ‘safer’ not at risk person.

Sweat - he is working hard at going nowhere - a nice little touch!

but in addition - now we have the full scene we can see the transition from no shirt -singlets - tees all in black white or grey  -the transition from being ‘okay’ with his choice to becoming increasingly worn down and unsatisfied by it - literally covering himself more and more and building up a protective barrier. The other interesting thing is his boots - which are scuffed and not looking particularly smart - again a sign that not all is ok - its the little things that start to slip first - so these boots looking less than perfectly polished is a manifestation of that - Eddie was in the military those boots would in normal circumstances be immaculate and highly polished.

Then we get to the dinner/kitchen scene!

Eddie’s semi transparent shirt is showing us that he’s more transparent than he thinks - that he’s not doing as good a job as he thinks of hiding the truth - that he wants to be a firefighter again the shirt is a representation of his defences (especially around Buck and Chris)are wearing thin! Chris being in the grey jumper - he is the most wrapped up of those at the table and is therefore the most protected -  the grey is showing that he is neutral and we don’t really get anything from him to contradict this (except when he teams up with Buck to deliver some amazing sass). 

We also have Taylor in a green semi transparent printed shirt - we see her in a fair amount of green and the print is again hinting at confusion - she is clearly trying to figure out what is going on between Buck and Eddie (small aside Taylor saying ‘is that possible’ after Buck stating that Eddie will be back at he firehouse has me ) because they are not subtle!!

Buck is in navy blue for this scene (we do get  tiny peek at a white vest under the shirt) v Eddie being in white in white - this is very much intentional - it is a reverse parallel of the shooting only the shots being fired are verbal ones and the one left bleeding this time is Buck, while Eddie is left covered in metaphorical blood - which he hasn’t yet realised and the blood is Bucks trauma at not understanding Eddies decision to leave the 118. The gun/bullet in this scenario is Christopher and Eddies own trauma.

The mom and Dad in the car - wearing red and blue - like i’ve spoken about in this post - but we also have the army green of Eddie worn by the father as well!

 Buck in white at bar - there is obviously the tie in to buck wearing white anti meaning bad things are going to happen and it continues to play out here, but there is also something in the choice of a hoodie for me as well especially because we see him (from Eddies perspective) bathed in light - it is a contrast to everyone else in the scene - they are all in semi darkness and wearing darker tones - they are very much playing into renaissance religious iconography - portraying Buck as an angel - the hood of the hoodie forming a sort of halo (in Eddie’s eyes as we view it from his perspective / but also a bit of Lucifer moment - Eddie feeling betrayed by his most loyal friend but also Buck later on betraying how far he has come as a person and showing how far he is going to fall.

I am very  👀👀👀 the fact that  Lucy is in army green - in the same way that they’ve used this colour to parallel Taylor with Eddie before (and indeed in this very episode!), it feels to me like they are doing it again here with Lucy - we’ll have to see if that continues.

its also interesting to note the difference in the layers they’re wearing - Lucy is much less covered up - more open, whereas Buck is protecting himself by wearing a thick hoodie and a jacket, but those layers to protect himself are also him wearing a mask - hence the return of Buck 1.0 - its easy to slip into something you’re familia with that you’ve used as a form of protection in the past!

Eddie in black and Khaki jacket - the same style he wears when in mourning - the loss of Shannon, his firefam, his job that he loves etc at the bar - he is mourning his friendships and what he has lost/ given up for Christopher - its highlighting his disconnect from everything that is important to him - tying in with the past things that meant the same.

Keeping Bobby in an LAFD tee and then having Athena in a white jumper - more costume paralleling between Athena and Buddie - especially interesting when you look at the two conversations in those scenes - moving on?!!!

Chris space theme pajamas make a return - and accompanied by striped sleeves - stripe theory for the win - Eddie is changing direction again and the  universe is still screaming at him!

The grey jacket looks to be the same (or very similar) as the one Eddie wears to therapy later in the season. its paired with a light shirt here - when Eddie is feeling hopeful of his return to firefighting whereas paired with the grey later shows how far Eddie is going to descend in to the murky depths of his trauma - he views this moment as his opportunity to save himself - to be able to shut that storage locker back up and not deal with the things that we’ve seen increasingly running through his mind as the episode has progressed

Bobby in dark red parallel with buck lawsuit. there are a couple of parallels - Bobby in the same role is in the same colour way for both scenes, where as Eddie and Buck, while both in jackets, Eddie is in another semi transparent tee - Bobby has seen that Eddie is not doing well mentally and try to push him in the direction of therapy (fully knowing that he has already filled Eddies job) whereas Buck in his button down shirt in the the one firing the initial shot in 3x06 - it is about the formality of a lawsuit versus the comfort of Eddie thinking he would be able to return to his family.

we also get a look at Eddies Watch in this scene - it pops into view while Bobby is talking about taking the time to carry for your wellbeing 

I’m very interested that we’ve seen Buck start to wear a watch out of work in 5x11 - its not something he’s done a lot before, but in this episode - every scene out of work - he’s been wearing his watch!

he’s also in black and yes - that shirt has a tiny pattern on it - there is definite mirroring of the I love you scene here - Buck doing something he’s not really on board with - confessing love and having Taylor move in - sticking plasters on a fractured relationship.

Taylor wearing a triangle necklace when Buck fails to tell her about kissing Lucy 👀👀

One last thing to notice about the costuming of Buck and Eddie throughout 5x11 is that both their colour palettes have been matched up - we only see them wear black, white, navy, green or grey - especially in key moments - and always in opposite of each other - when Eddie is in black, Buck is in white such as at the bar or when Eddie is in white then Buck is in dark navy in the kitchen scene. the same is true for those last two scenes we see them in - Eddie trying to return to the 118 is wearing a white shirt, while Buck trying to confess to his girlfriend is in black - these are interesting because we enter those scenes with a hopeful Eddie and a Buck full of dread - the colours reflect this and by the end of those scenes you could say the opposite is true - they’ve reversed - I know that is an overly simplistic way to describe where they are mentally but that its a bigger thing that the two small moments which will add to the mental health pile, but thats not wha these costumes are about.

Hopefully this has been interesting and helpful! any questions - my inbox is open (work has got busy, so it might take me a little while to reply, but I will answer you!) 💜💜💜

tagging for interest @prettyboyandthekid @adamsparirsh @theladyyavilee @oneawkwardcookie @lovecolibri @loveyourownsmiilee @leothil @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @moniquekatie @reallysmartladymariecurie @kitkatpancakestack @yramesoruniverse @outrunningthedark @ktinastrikesback @arrenemris @talespinner230 @mytherapybuddie @fiona-fififi​

[running-with-kn1ves]

Male! Doll X GN Reader

A/N: Ahhh I got many requests both from on here and other sites of which asked for a doll yandere! To be fair, I really had... no idea how to write this one? Even possessed dolls, I genuinely had no idea how to write them to fit the obsessive trait. But it still took me mf dayS to write this so I hope its alright!!

TW: possessed items, violence, touching, open mechanical anatomy, cringe

“Oh and before I forget, don’t leave him alone. He doesn’t like to be left alone.”

“Don’t….leave the doll alone?” You chuckled, looking at the small envelope hole your customer insisted on talking through.

“Yes.” They replied, shutting the small latch. You were left in silence, holding a small box filled with metal parts and porcelain pieces.

The materials clinked against one another as you shifted the box. Your business was open for walk-ins, but this wasn’t your everyday unscheduled fix-up. Customers often walked in leisurely or tripping over themselves, requiring you to fix a machine or child’s doll.

This fellow however, preferred to stay outside of your shop, sliding the box in through the makeshift gap and latch at the bottom of your door. They were ominous, strangely demanding you to fix this, well, nearly lost cause. In the box was the tattered pieces of a doll. One of those life-size, porcelain and silicone models . They don’t make such beautiful creatures anymore, but how mesmerizing it is to see one up close. People in your craft hardly ever got to see a real antique; usually just like yourself, they’d be stuck with the same old machines that were popular at the time. But you have been given the chance to touch a real piece of hand-made craftsmanship!

“Let’s see..” You mumbled to yourself, trying to shake the eerie feeling you got from that stranger. Weaving in and out of the shelves of your home, you made it to a cluttered table full of metal parts and tiny gears. Shoving away some materials, you placed the box down: this was going to be your most important job yet. Not just because of the very polite pay, but because it was up to you to bring this shattered doll back to a whole. Its metal skeleton was nearly fully exposed, save for the cracked porcelain covering its limbs and face.

Taped to the disaster's open chest was a small note. A Short set of rules and a message was covered in grime as you gripped it. The note was scribbled with fervor, cursive letters giving you vague instructions:

‘Do not look him in the eye

Do not intentionally break him

IF you leave the room: TELL HIM

Treat him like any other human being. Do not underestimate his strength.’

Treat him like a human? Don't look in HIS eyes? You knew the person that dropped him off must have been some weirdo, but this was a bit beyond. These rules were both unnecessary and ridiculous. Perhaps the client was another collector; a strange elderly doll obsessor living on a pension, using their last pennies and dimes to keep antiques like this. At least, you assumed as much. If they weren’t, then you’d really be confused.

You bounced with excitement, tossing the note on the ground. Digging in the box, you found the several broken parts crushed at the bottom. Small fragments of porcelain scraped your fingers; sharp metal bands jabbed out of the doll’s ribcage, showing that someone must have previously opened it up. You decided to take another thought to those ‘rules’; was it just because the person was obsessed with the doll, or was ‘something’ ingrained into it?

Spirits of dead loved ones and evil demons possessing dolls wasn’t unheard of; but you had thankfully never come across anything like that. The rules seemed ridiculous, but you decided to take them into consideration. Besides, the thing’s eyes were spooky, and you tended to talk to yourself. This wouldn’t be so hard!

You were prepared to take on the challenge of fixing this figure, in any manner possible. Grabbing the box, you moved over to your work desk. It was as cluttered as the previous one, but you shoved all materials to the floor once more. Taking out each part, you delicately set down the mostly assembled part of the doll. It was nearly unrecognizable; the porcelain face was cracked, wispy pieces of long and split hair covered its face, allowing an even darker aura to fall upon the doll. Despite the missing pieces of its internal makeup, it was heavy. The mass of material took a great deal of strength for you to pick up and set down without destroying it further. Even as you set it down, the figure seemed to make cracked and scraping noises against the chair.

It was a masterpiece though: the silicone was scraped but not as badly as it should have been for its age. The doll’s face was painted to the last detail, with beauty marks under its left eye and lip; the eyes were sunken in with cloud white scleras. Its body was thin, but not in a human way--It was thin due to the lack of stuffing and insides. The rib cage was incredibly wide, and split open to show a gaping hole of its endoskeleton.

“Woah..” You could hardly keep the gasp from leaving your mouth, the intensity of the doll’s appearance surprising you.

The thing seemed to be made out of steel or aluminum, the heaviness of it making you assume a thick material. It’s skin was silicone, soft but clearly inhuman. And something about its face... That made you question. It was fragile, made out of porcelain unlike its body, but it had an eeriness to it. The dolls eyes were lifeless, as they should be, but the unnatural blue opal color made you on edge. The boyish appearance though, helped put a more ‘human’ feel to the object.

You didn’t even need to avoid its face because of the note-- the freakiness was enough to make you cast your gaze. Propping it up, you tried to make its back sit straight, with no avail. No matter how hard you pushed, its spine wouldn’t straighten; it was clear something was wrong. Instead of messing with the back any further, you huffed frustratedly, and turned to grab more tools.

It was going to take a long time to fix this guy, but you were determined. Even with the faux ribs sticking out, and the scratches in its “skin,” you were prepared to disregard all other jobs. It was purely out of your own satisfaction to see this thing grow into the beautiful creation it once was. You were unable to look away from the gaping hole in its chest.

Spending hours on your knees grew to hurt greatly, though it was worth it to see that chest no longer held a bunch of metal poking out. Now, it looked like the average insides of any doll. You had to remove a bit of the silicone, but that was no problem to deal with.  

The doll’s porcelain blue skin reminded you of someone with frostbite-- it didn’t allow the figure to have any specific ethnicity, giving it almost an extraterrestrial look. It was nearly human. Though, the features were impossible: full, plump lips paired with big sad eyes,which gave for any normal doll appearance. Though every time you glanced up a bit to look at its face, you felt more melancholic. Something about ‘his’ expression was deeper than all the other dolls you had worked with.

Throughout the night, you found yourself talking to the doll as if it were a person; not a strange habit, really. You tended to do that with all your projects. Thankfully they never talked back, but you were a bit lonely stuck in that quiet cozy room. The record playing began to skip, pulling you away from your work. You had managed to fix most of the “rib cage” but a few pieces were missing. Nothing in the box showed to be the parts. Getting up from the short chair you had been sitting in for hours, you stretched. Pulling out your hands and twisting to the side, you heard a loud crack come from your back.

The skipping record began to grow annoying as it occupied your mind. Muttering to yourself, you left the doll in peace to collect some replacement parts and to change the record. The dolls eyes looked like they moved to follow your walking form, but you ignored that creepy factor.

Shutting off the record, you heard a crash follow from your work room. The doll. Rushing over to the door, you saw the doll lying there, crumpled. Its behind was sticking straight up, body twisted and conformed in an unnatural position. Slowly, the object moved. It’s hands shook beneath it, moving roughly like it was swimming through broken glass. One twisted arm moved to stretch out, trying to grip the floor. The things feet moved beneath it, trying to prop itself up. Despite how hard it tried to get up, its broken back was too much for it to move properly. Its head was still stuck to the floor. It almost looked like a newborn baby, trying to learn how to walk.

“WHAT-”

You shouted without thinking. The mere thought of finding one of your projects moving on its own was terrifying; this was a whole other level of creepiness. As soon as the sound left your mouth, the doll fell limp. Its legs hit the floor with a high thud. The sound made you cringe. Somehow, its ragged clothes managed to get even dirtier from your dusty floor. The doll was an absolute mess; but you were worse. It.. moved? The item, object, unliving thing, moved. You heard about the ghosts but hoped by all odds you would never encounter a possessed machine.

Clutching the side of the door, you waited for the doll to get back up. It didn’t. Instead, a small screwdriver fell off your desk. The doll hit the desk previously, making the tool fall and hit its head. The doll still didn’t move.

From its stillness, the idea of it being alive seemed impossible, it was as stiff as before. But you didn’t trust that; you saw it move with your very own eyes, saw it try to climb up and off the floor from where it tumbled unto. Inching closer, you moved to poke at the doll. Giving it a harsh jab in the shoulder, you jumped back. It didn't move an inch. Taking deep breaths you tried to reassure yourself: this was just a  bunch of parts thrown together. There had to be a logical explanation.

Gaining courage, you grabbed the doll and forced it back onto the chair. Its heavy frame made you carry with vigor. The figure looked the same: no cracks or changes, no scornful glare like you had expected. Taking a moment you allowed your heart beat to settle; perhaps something underneath moved it, like a rat? You could hardly believe that explanation. Taking matters into your own hands, you bent the doll further down to inspect its back. According to how these dolls were normally made, there should be a way to open it from behind.

Observing the area, you found no such thing. There weren’t even any cracks or lines which would distinguish the silicone skin pieces from one another.

“Hmm…” You shakily cleared your throat, thinking pensively. The only explanation was that something inside or outside moved it. Inside… That’s it! You felt a lightbulb switch off in your head, the thought seeming so clear. Of course: it must be mechanical.

The doll must have gears or a charged device inside it which makes the ball-jointed limbs move! And it got stuck, because it was broken. You felt pleased with yourself, knowing that you weren’t delusional, and that you were perfectly alone in the house. Though, the suspicious part was that you hadn’t seen a place to input a charger or battery pack. There weren’t even any gears inside the base that would help it move. Not only that, but ball-jointed dolls didn’t tend to be mechanical; whoever designed it must have been either a genius or drunk out of their mind. This poor sap of a machine was still working after being treated so horribly. You almost felt bad for it.

Your fear subsided, and instead was placed with curiosity.

“Well, since we are going to be partners from now on, I guess I should give you a name…” You mumbled. Dusting off its clothes, you racked your brain for possible names.

“Ur...iah?” You tried out the name, saying it over and over while looking at the doll. You still avoided its eyes; the glare from its sad orbs still making you hesitant. The syllables of the name rolled off your tongue easily.

“Uriah. Uriah! It’s good, I like it.” You settled on that, naming the doll. You knew this would make you slightly attached to it-- as what happened with all things you gave names to-- but that was better than being terrified of it.

“Well alright Uriah,” You cut yourself off with a yawn, looking at the clock strike 3. “ I think it's best if we go to sleep. Goodnight, little creepy doll.”

Giving the doll a pat on the head, you took off your oil and grease stained apron. Turning off the electric desk lamp, you headed to bed. Another wave of yawns hit you as you left the room, showing how hard you had worked all day. Staying awake until three in the morning was a record. Usually you stayed up a bit after the sun had set, but this was a real work day.

Preparing yourself for sleep, you took one last glance at the workroom which held Uriah. He was almost like a friend in a way; an eerily creepy, lifeless friend. You decided that if he was real, he’d be the kind of person you wanted to befriend. Whether it was the hopeless romantic in you, with how sad his eyes looked, or how quirky he was considering his insides, you couldn’t decide. Sleep hit you easily, the stench of oil still stuck on your hands and exhaustion washing over your eyelids.

Your deep rest was hardly disrupted as something made its way into your bed. The creak and crinkle of the mattress made you stir, but you didn’t awake. The being staring at you couldn’t stop its gaze.

You awoke the next morning with the sun shining in. The window above you let in a streak of gold and white, making you feel warm and fuzzy. It was another bright day, filled with the strength of smooth cogs and lively customers. The cluttered walls of your room made you feel safe, posters of your idols and your own achievements on the walls, along with some of your greatest creations. You didn’t have much time to invent as of late, but it was nice to fix things instead. The auburn walls and rusted gears hanging was almost like a safety net, reminding you that there was comfort inside this room alone, despite whatever might lurk outside or inside.

Pulling the covers off of you, you felt a strong weight from the other side of the bed. A hand limply fell off from your shoulder, under the thrown covers. You looked with a puzzled expression, unsure why there was a lifeless hand in your bed. Pulling back the covers, you jumped with fright. There, was Uriah. He lied in a crumpled form, nearly the same as when he sat in your workroom chair. Its mop of dark navy hair covered its face, looking almost human. His eyes looked up to stare at you, unmoving. Its legs were also against your own, the cold material making you shiver.

You brought your hands up to your mouth, trying not to scream.

“How did… what..” You were speechless, poking at the doll to make sure it wouldn’t move. It stayed put, lying there as it did yesterday. You were both horrified and intrigued. Never had a creation done something like this before; even if it was running on batteries, or a mechanical force to make it move, things usually didn’t have enough power to walk after years of abandonment.

How did it even manage to open your workroom door? Could objects like this even do that? You tried to focus on one thing or another but all you wanted to do was to cut this thing open; see what made it tick. No, you reminded yourself; this was for a customer, not for your own satisfaction.

Talking yourself through it, you decided this must have been another flunk from the internal system. Like human bodies, there must be a major system in the doll, which was telling the rest of it to move. Unfortunately, it had to come to your room specifically. You were certainly going to start locking your door now.

Getting out of bed, you moved to the other side to remove Uriah. Picking up the doll’s heavy body, you found a black substance soaked into your bed. It was covered in it. Your night clothes and hands were soon wet from it as well; it gave off a peculiar scent. Smelling your hands, you realized that it was oil. How did it manage to get covered in oil? You pushed your fingers against the doll's open ribcage. You had fixed most of it, but there was still a gaping hole. In the hole, you witnessed a sea of oil from within it. The metal ribs and exoskeleton were covered. How the hell could it contain this much fluid?

You struggled to bring it back to your work room, half dragging it down the hall and half carrying it bridal style. Despite being only a mechanical object, the thing still managed to be huge. Life-like was an understatement; the “skin” of the object brushed against you, giving shivers down your spine. You still didn’t know what made it tick, not even what caused it to be so heavy, but you were determined to find out.

Finally managing to set the thing down on a cleared workbench, you made your way back to the bedroom. But not without harshly stopping yourself with the door frame first; remembering the ‘rules’ you were given, you decided to be safe than sorry.

“I’m going to go change.” You said, looking at the doll. It wasn’t as odd talking to him as you thought it would be; sure you’ve talked to machines before, out of a lonely habit, but not out of fear like this. And yet, it didn't feel much different. Skipping back to the room, you hastily threw on some old clothes and your tool pouch, tying it around your waist.

As you started walking back to the work room, you began to notice oil littering the floor. It was small drips at first, but soon became large, dried splotches and sliding footprints. You followed the trail of black down to a room next to the one where Uriah resided.

“What is this…” You mumbled to yourself, looking up at the end point of the oil. Inside the tiny spare room, oil littered the walls. It somehow sprayed out from one of your past creations.

“Letta!” You shouted, running to your dearly destroyed machine. She was a beauty; one of the first things you had ever created. Over time you had been working on her, greasing up old gears and changing her features to display the newly improved image you had in mind. She was an automaton, and didn’t need oil to function, which is why this sudden mess made no sense. She couldn’t have malfunctioned and sprayed it everywhere, or even moved.

So how had oil made its way inside of her gears, on her face, and all over the floor…? As you took a closer look, you noticed her mechanics had been tampered with. Something was definitely stolen; ripped out to leave small pieces of metal and broken cogs everywhere. You had recently installed a voice box, hoping that maybe she could learn how to replay small messages when writing. But you had yet learned how to make both work simultaneously, and merely only allowed the same two phrases on the voice box: “Play with me!” and “Help!” Both were used in the function to alert you. The first, to remind you that she was working in disguise of a cute little phrase. You wanted to give her a nice phrase to see how well it would fit with her structure; and it worked well. The second, was to let you know if something was jammed, or going wrong. But you weren’t sure if the automaton would ever be able to be created to figure that out for herself. So, you settled on merely installing it to see if it would even go well. And you hadn’t been able to test it yet.

Looking into Letta’s exposed back, you found it covered in oil and hand prints. The voice box was gone. You had installed it only a day ago; and now it was missing! You were furious, angry at whoever had the guts to come in and destroy your livelihood, not to mention your home. That voice box was expensive too…Hearing movement from the room over with Uriah, you stomped over to it. Perhaps you could catch the culprit of this utter disaster.

Instead of finding what you hoped to be a deranged animal or prankster, you merely saw Uriah on his side. The doll smeared oil all over the workbench, the undried substance sticking to anything it could latch to.

“Dammit…” You grunted loudly, tossing your hands in your hair. “Guess my only option is to clean you up, huh…” You looked over to Uriah, the doll seeming as lifeless as it always had. The pale blue porcelain of its face still unnerved you, but it was so pretty to admire from afar.

Gathering up the doll and several rags with a bucket, you spent an hour cleaning all the oil off. It had gotten into several cracks and crevices. Hell, you hadn’t even managed to fix the doll yet and it was already destroyed! You half hoped the client who dropped it off--whoever they were-- wouldn’t mind this small mishap.

Thankfully the grease was easily removable and did not damage the silicone or porcelain at all. You spent the rest of the day fixing broken areas, such as the nearly finished ribcage, and broken spine. While working, you swore you could feel its eyes on you. Occasionally, the dolls hands would be in a different position that you set them in. After turning around, you’d find the figure in a more open position, its hands caressing your skin or hair when you moved. You didn’t bother changing the dolls limbs after the first few times; it would always somehow move once more. You blamed this on the fact that it must have had some kind of battery inside, still allowing it to move. And yet, you still couldn’t find the battery.

But finally! You had managed to get the doll to sit upright. It was far from finished, but now at least the thing could walk properly. You really wanted to get inside of it and understand why the hell it could move, but there was no way to do that without destroying it. So, you settled on focusing on aesthetics. At least you could make the beautiful antique look restored.

Yawning, you decided to take a bit of a nap before working on the doll any further. You were thoroughly wiped out after all these strange occurrences.

“I’m gonna take a nap Uriah, see ya later.” Stretching, you removed your tool pouch and slumped to your room. All this constant work on the doll was really draining. Sleep came easy despite the bright open window of your room. Yet, you hadn’t managed to sleep as long as you desired before something woke you up. The sound of someone speaking, jolted you awake.

“Play with me!” The sound rang out. You recognized the voice, but couldn’t be sure as sleep still hazed you.

“Play with me! Play with me!” The voice replayed itself, assuring your assumption. Confusion hit you like a wall, making you slowly get up from your bed.

“Help!” As the voice began to ring out more frequently, your pace sped up. It was coming from your work room.

“Help!”

Reaching the bedroom door, you jiggled the handle to find it locked. Oil spilled underneath from outside the door. You grew panicked, hearing more phrases from the voice box ring out.

“Play with me!! Play!”

You settled on pushing against the door frame, trying to break it down. Whatever was going on, was not normal. Your shoulder began to bruise, the weight not enough to split the door. It stayed strong despite the creaky wood and bent nails keeping it together. Looking around feverishly, you found a discarded toolbox next to your clothes hamper. Thankfully, it held a couple screwdrivers and hammers, enough to allow you to take apart the door handle.

It took you several minutes but finally, the door broke open. You witnessed the sight that lay before you. Oil slid across the floor, wet black liquid tainting the ground in front of your room. Hunched over in front of you was Uriah. The doll had black oil dripping from its legs and hands. Inside its chest, was the voice box, roughly shoved in. The box leaked with oil, finger prints smearing more of the black all along Uriah’s exposed internal chest. The doll's clothes were falling off as it stood there in front of you. It shouldn’t be able to stand on its own, even as you had fixed its back.

“What the… hell…” You stand in shock, hand still resting on the gaping hole where your door handle used to be.

The doll turns its head. Instead of staring at the floor, it looked directly at you; oil stained its face. The large and unnatural splatters dripped to the floor, black slick destroying the wood and doll’s silicone even further. An internal part of you was disappointed on how all your hard work of cleaning the previous oil spill, was now wasted. But now you had bigger things to deal with.

Like how the hell this thing was still moving on its own.

Dolls who could move always had a predetermined set of moving abilities programmed. Uriah was not programmed.

The doll reached a hand out towards you, Its finger pointed in your direction. It was keen on touching you. You didn’t dare move, fearing what may happen if you messed with whatever this thing was.

“What the hell are you...”

You stared at it, watching as it outstretched its hand. Cold silicone fingers touched you with caution, experimenting whether it would be safe to continue.The tall figure tilted its head, the oil covering half of it making it seem more terrifying. Feeling its grip grow harder, you began to step backwards. Its hand tore into your shirt, not daring to let go. You fought back, trying to shut your bedroom door as it held onto you. Uriah was faster than you determined, its speed seeming inhuman. Despite the heavy mass of the doll, he didn’t seem to have a problem matching pace with you. Pushing you into the room it ran after you. Letting out a loud shriek, you ran to your bedroom desk. You tried to grab a nearby tool to defend yourself, but that was quickly swatted away by your aggressor. Uriah held an offensive stance, preparing to catch you if you tried to run. Backing up, you found yourself shoved into a corner, Uriah following pace.

He matched your steps, holding the tool he grabbed from you. You covered your face, fearing that it was going to strike you with it. Uriah only watched, staring as you cowered in fear. The lifeless, aqua eyes bore into you. They seemed to hold nothing, no life or expression other than solemness. It didn’t--couldn’t-- change expression, merely tilting its head to get a better look at you. You cringed at the sound of his joints creaking. It was clear this doll had not been so active in a long, long time.

“Don’t… don’t hurt me!” You couldn’t stop yourself from crying out, terrified that this cursed abomination was going to kill you.

“Play with me!” The voice box rang out.

You froze in place. Uriah didn’t move. The girlish voice rang out again, a short “help!” targeted towards you.

“...Help..?” You repeated.

“Play with me!”

You lowered your hands, watching as the doll crept closer. Uriah dropped the small tool on the floor; one of his hands rested on the button of the voicebox.You didn’t turn away, but still winced as he came closer to you. The stench of oil was strong as it shuffled forwards.

The doll outstretched his hand as it did before, fingers ghosting over your face. The thin digits lightly touched the tip of your nose, and your lips. You shut your eyes harshly, trying to look away. It came closer, bringing another hand up to touch your face. The wet, fake fingers ghosted over each eyelash, prodding at every pore and unique indent of your face.

“No..”

You whispered faintly, opening your eyes a crack. The doll was intent on gazing at every feature of you, the frozen hands trying to touch every warm area of your body. Its eyes that seemed so frozen in time before, moved. They moved to study how your chest rose and fell after each breath, how your fingers trembled.

Without hesitation, you rammed your body into the doll. It stumbled backwards, stunned as you made your way past. You slipped on the oil, sliding slightly. Uriah snapped out of the shock, grabbing your waist to stop you from running further.

“Help! Help!” The voice box rang out, growing more frequent the more desperate the doll got.

“Let me...go!” You grunted against his force, trying to claw against the already mangled silicone flesh. The doll clasped onto your shirt, throwing you harshly to ​the ground. You let out an agonizing sound, feeling your head throb.

Uriah went quiet, no more voice box noises or sounds of gears and joints turning. You scrambled to get back up. Before you could stand fully, you saw Uriah swing a heavy mallet above you. You cursed yourself for having so many tools in your room; not once had you managed to use them to your advantage.

The first swing missed, hitting the ground instead. But the second, got you heavily. The damage from the mallet made your head ricochet against the floor. Easily your eyes fell shut, unconsciousness hitting with full force.

Despite your inability to awaken, you felt the same cold fingers caress you. From your feet to your ears you felt the silicone admire and bathe in the heat of your body. The same line repeated over, and over again.

“Play with me!” It rang.

[fandom-puff]

A Lion’s Feast

Pairing: tywin lannister x younger!wife!reader

Requested by: anon ‘Could you write a modern au for tywin lannister x younger wife reader. Maybe they have a Lannister family dinner and its all just chaotic.’

Notes: I didn’t end up doing this as a modern AU, because I found it easier to work with everything in like... Westerosi time frame, but I hope this is okay.

Warnings: older man/younger woman, political/arranged marriage, Joffrey, use of words like slut/whore etc (cheers, Cers), reference to Jaime and Cersei’s incest, awkward family dinner

Gif creds to owner

“We will be dining in the Queen’s chambers tonight,”

You tensed up, staring straight ahead as you walked through the gardens of the Red Keep with your lord husband. “Am I… in trouble?” You asked softly. You were new to King’s Landing, shipped over from the Vale to marry the Lord of Casterly Rock, and you weren’t quite used to the way King Joffrey’s court worked.

“No. I’ve arranged for us to dine together as a family. You have not properly met my children and grandchildren. You are a Lannister by marriage, you are their mother-in-law, whether they like it or not, and it’s high time we acted like it,” his voice had a bitter edge to it; it hadn’t taken long for Queen Cersei to make her distaste clear. While no one in court would dare insult Tywin Lannister, the girl from the Vale was an easy target for gossip. You had been called every name under the sun, but the Queen’s favourite jibe was ‘whore’.

“Alright,” you murmured, lowering your eyes. You knew there would be no point in arguing. You had quickly learnt that when your husband put his mind to something, there was no turning back. As a few men of the court crossed your path, you felt Tywin’s hand come to rest on the small of your back, and it did not move until you were in the tower of the Hand. You smiled softly as you caught sight of the steaming tub of hot water, scented with sweet oils as you entered your bedroom. “You’ve had this all planned out, haven’t you, my Lord?” You asked, a small smirk gracing your lips. “You should’ve just told my handmaidens to do it in my chambers, to save the walk up all of those stairs,”

Tywin smiled ever-so-slightly. “You’re hardly ever in your own chambers downstairs, wife,” he reminded you.

“Only because you’re the only person I really know in this godforsaken keep, and even then I don’t know you that well. Besides, if I stayed in my own chambers, I’d get lost and end up in the maze of dragon skulls below the keep,”

Tywin smirked, giving you a little push by the small of your back. “Bathe. Wear red, and preferably rubies and gold,” he said sternly. You sighed, knowing Tywin wanted you to dress the part, to look like the Lady of Casterly Rock. You bathed and dried, perfuming your skin and hair before pulling on your smallclothes, calling in your handmaiden to tighten your bodice, then help lace up your dress. It was a deep red, with golden embroidery on the bodice and cuffs that glimmered when you moved, just covering your shoulders and showing the swell of your breasts, and you fastened a pendant around your neck- a golden lion with tiny rubies for its eyes, tongue and claws. You braided back the front of your hair, but let the rest fall down over your shoulders.

You emerged from the room into Tywin’s main office, your hands folded in front of you. He surveyed you briefly before nodding, offering his arm.

**

You sat in silence as you ate, eyes fixed on your plate. Tywin was sat to your left, Jaime to your right. Cersei and Joffrey occupied the heads of the table, and Tyrion sat across from you, in between Myrcella and Tommen.

“More wine, my Lady?” Tyrion said out of the blue, holding up the jug. He gave you a slight smile, knowing how you must feel to be the outcast, like a stranger with the people you were meant to call family.

“I... yes, please. Thank you, my Lord,” you said.

Tyrion smiled as he poured, before filling his own glass. “Just Tyrion will suffice. Let us leave formality at the door,” you smiled slightly and nodded.

“I agree,” said Jaime, earning himself a sharp look from Cersei, who was used to her twin almost always siding with her. “Wasn’t the whole point of this evening to introduce you to us? As a family,” Cersei scoffed into her goblet. “We won’t get very far with ‘my lords’ and ‘my ladies’, will we?”

Tywin nodded his approval at his sons’ attitude and you smiled, beginning to relax a little, though the presence of Cersei and Joffrey kept you on edge. “Tell me, Lady YN, how is the Vale at this time? Have the northerners got their grubby claws on it yet?” Joffrey suddenly asked.

You froze slightly. You were here to talk, yes, but not talk politics. “The Vale... your grace, is not quite like the Reach, or the Riverlands, or even like Winterfell or Casterly Rock,” you said carefully, fully aware of all of the eyes on you. You looked at Tywin, and when he gave you an approving nod, you turned back to the king and continued. “The majority of the Vale is mountain, with the valley you desire buried between them. Even Robb Stark’s best men couldn’t seize it. No one could. To take the Vale, one must take the Eyrie. To take the Eyrie... well... you just couldn’t,” you were happy sharing this fact, as it was known across Westeros that the Eyrie was impenetrable.

“There are other ways to the Eyrie, though. Marriage,” Cersei said. It was the first time she had spoken, and she had a conniving gleam in her eye.

“There is only one heir to the Vale. Jon Arryn was murd-died before he could have any more children. Only little Robert Arryn is the Lord of the Vale, and he’s just past his sixth name day I believe. Besides, his mother is... very protective of her boy. As I’m sure you can understand, your grace, as a mother yourself,” you said cooly. You didn’t know what possessed you to speak that way to the Queen, but something about speaking of your home, your true home filled you with confidence.

“Indeed. There is nothing quite like a mother’s love,” she responded, fixing you with a cold stare.

“I’m unfamiliar, having lost my mother when I was seven,” you said.

“Does the Eyrie really have a trap door that leads nowhere?” Tommen Baratheon suddenly asked, breaking the silence between you and his mother.

You smiled softly at the little boy. How could someone so innocent come from the loins of a beast like Cersei. You supposed some of the good nature came from his father- his true father, that is, Jaime Lannister. “Yes,” you said. “They call it the Moon Door. It’s a big trap door that opens into the sky. If the Lord of the Vale commands, prisoners can be thrown from it,” you stopped, realising quickly how gruesome that must sound to a little boy.

Tommen simply shrugged. “I suppose that must be less messy,” he said, returning his focus to his food. Soon Tommen and Myrcella were bundled off to bed, and Myrcella told you rather sweetly that she liked the way you did your hair.

Once the children were gone, it left only you and Tywin, his three children and the King. Tywin suggested you move away from the dining table to sit and drink wine. Joffrey excused himself, utterly disinterested with continuing on with the evening. You felt a little lighter after he left, although you could feel Cersei staring daggers at you.

“It must feel strange,” Jaime said. “Coming down here from the Vale. I imagine it’s all rather confusing, and daunting,”

“You can say that again,” you said. “I thought I’d just get bundled off to Casterly Rock, never seen or spoken to,”

Tywin laughed slightly. “Come now, wife, we do have some level of decency in this family,” he said. You smiled shyly, looking at your lap. He was often a little more... relaxed after a few glasses of wine.

“Ha!” Cersei said, having also drunk a fair bit. She had been holding her tongue all night, and it seemed now it had loosened. “Once he puts an heir in your belly, you’ll be shipped off to Casterly Rock. And if it’s a girl, you’ll be spared a visit or two, until you give us a son. That’s all you’re here for, that’s all you’re good for,”

You sat up a little straighter, responding before Tywin could. “I am aware of the general concept of political marriages. Your father gets a wife and an heir, my family gets money, or protection or something of the sort. The Seven know, you Lannisters have gold pouring out of your ears,”

“I believe the phrase is that we ‘shit gold,’” Tyrion supplied with a smirk, making you chuckle.

“You think this is a game,” Cersei hissed. “I’ve seen you, prancing around court, dressed in red and gold, following father around like a lost dog! Fluttering about like a common slut,”

“Cersei-” Jaime said lowly.

“No! No! Can’t you see, she has her claws in father the same way Margaery has her claws in Joffrey! And you want me to accept that whore as my mother,”

It was silent. Cersei panted, now standing up. Jaime and Tyrion looked between her and Tywin. Tywin remained stoic, although his eyes revealed the way he seethed. But it was you who spoke first.

“I don’t expect you to accept me as your mother. I am not your mother. Nor will I ever try to be, or call myself that,” you said quietly, contrasting the Queen’s outburst. “I will, however, do my best to serve my husband, to provide him with the heir that is expected of me, the same way you provided King Robert with his heirs,”

Cersei snorted. “I’m sure you do a fine job of serving, you brazen little who-”

“Enough, Cersei!” Tywin finally said, standing up. “Whether you like it or not, I have married YN. She will give me an heir, or two, or more. And she will remain the lady of Casterly rock, no matter how much you protest,”

“She’s not fit to be lady of Casterly rock. She can barely curtsey,” she spat. “You have heirs, father,” she said, almost pleasing. “What need have you for a little whore,”

“I have a son who swore an oath, another who has more interest in wine and whoring, and a daughter who is not nearly as clever and tactical as she thinks she is. Casterly rock will not be left to either of you when I’m gone. It will be left to mine and YN’s son,”

“It could be! It could be left to one of my children,” Cersei hissed.

“One of your children? I wouldn’t put a bastard on the seat of Casterly Rock,” Tywin said cooly. Cersei opened her mouth to argue but Tywin held up his hand. “Give it up, Cersei. You told me yourself, my legacy is a lie. You have had your chance to build the Lannister name. Now it is time for YN and I to rebuild what you have trampled into the ground with your lies and your... acts,” he said with disgust. “And if I so much as hear the words whore or slut to describe my wife, I will resign as hand, withdraw my knights and my gold, as well as that of the Vale and leave you to pick up the pieces of this kingdom that I have been holding together. Perhaps you could learn a thing or two from the Tyrells. Come YN,” he said, turning away from his daughter and resting his hand on your waist, guiding you out of the Queens chambers and back to the tower of the hand, not giving you a chance to curtsey to the Queen.

As the door slammed shut, Tyrion drained the rest of his wine and clapped his hands as he stood. “Well. That went well,”

Tags: @sociallyawkward-princess @lazyotakujen

[salemwritesxx]

𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾.

𝕋 𝕒 𝕜 𝕒 𝕞 𝕚  𝕂 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕠  |  ℍ 𝕒 𝕨 𝕜 𝕤

     ⇴ male reader [22, chubby, 194cm]      ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↳ summary: [Your.name] is a chubby and tall man, someone who definitely didn’t fit Japan’s beauty standards. Safe to say, he wasn’t the most confident. However, during one group date, it finally all changes when he meets someone who is certainly very interested in him.

↣ rating: general audiences ↣ warnings: modern AU; self-deprecation; chubby, tall reader; reader’s “friends” being assholes to chubby reader; hawks and reader have a happy end tho; hawks is a simp for reader from the first minute on, ok?

part 2.

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“Come with us, they said. It will be fun, they said.”, you mumbled to yourself as you stood there. Awkward. Alone. Ignored. Too afraid the tiny bar stools would collapse underneath your big ass, hence why you chose to rather stand than sit.

Why did you let yourself get dragged into this group date? You wanted to say no in the beginning, but with your friends pestering you, you kind of agreed in the end. Though now, you knew all too well why you didn’t want to come.

As a chubby and very tall man, you weren’t the type that people, or rather, gay men, drooled over. At least you hadn’t had anyone show interest in you like that. Maybe it was because you were rather shy and thus not as loud as many of your fellow male friends, or you were the “wrong chubby”. Whatever it was, you were not attractive. Society made sure to tell you that at least once a day and sometimes those nice and kind people, not, were even going out of their way to tell you what a nuisance your were with your tall, fat ass taking up space. And in Japan, where everything was not really built to accommodate people like you, it was sometimes very hard to fit into things.

While you were sighing to yourself for the nth time and making sure to put yourself down as much as you could, you certainly didn’t realize how someone was always glancing at you. Hawks was one of the four gay men you and your friends had met today for said group date. Ever since he saw you, he had the urge to talk to you and get to know you. You were so tall and handsome and t h i c k. You could probably swing him around and break him like a toothpick. Just thinking about it made him grin.

However, it almost seemed like you had a shield around you he just couldn’t break through. He could guess why. Not only once had he seen people bullying the ones that didn’t fit the norm. Too fat, too skinny, too small, too tall – there was no end. People always found reasons to put others down. With how you stood there all alone, trying to make yourself as small as possible, Kei understood you tried to hide and you were uncomfortable. Even though you literally had nothing to hide. God, he wished he had met you sooner.

“Oiii Ta-ka-mi-san!”, his thoughts were rudely interrupted.

“What are you staring at Takami-san?”, then one of your friends, who was obviously interested in him, looked in the direction as well.

“Ah. [Your.name], huh? He’s like a car accident, right? You don’t wanna look but you also can’t really look away.”, your ‘friend’ laughed and Kei could have not been more disgusted by that behavior.

“God I wish I could just punch you, you fucking idiot!”, Keigo thought, furious and having to gulp down the anger.

Thus, he just smiled a little before he silently stood up to walk over to you, ignoring the calling of your ‘friend’. Instead, he got all nervous all of a sudden. Normally, he was the one being confessed to, not the one confessing or even initiating a conversation. Takami was used to people fawning over him, he was a rather successful model after all, hence why it was so hard to find someone who wasn’t just interested in him sexually or because of his money. And it did not help one bit that he found you so unbelievably attractive as well, his nervousness was at its peak.

“Hey. You’re… [Your.name], right?”, he tried to sound very casual as he leaned against the bar beside you. AND MY GOD, he was so tiny compared to you. He loved it. The way he had to look up so much.

You were rather surprised to get attention, especially from someone like Hawks. Like, he was so out of your league it was ridiculous to even think he would even BREATH besides you – yet there he was. Talking to you-

Oh. You knew what he wanted.

“Okay, look, let’s just skip all that polite small talk, the little laughs so we don’t feel awkward before you drop the question. Just tell me, which number do you want? Or should I just give you all three?”, you immediately cut to the chase. It had never been any different, so why would it be today? Especially when someone so sexy and pretty talked to you? Obviously he wanted someone from your much more handsome and well-trained friends.

Hawks was, however, rather surprised that THIS was your initial reaction to him talking to you. Though he could have not known how hard it would truly be to get to know you or get your number.

“Uhm… To be honest, your number alone would be quite sufficient.”, Keigo played it smooth. A handsome smile on his lips covered up his own nervousness – was he about to get rejected?

For a few seconds you stared at him, completely flabbergasted. Then you turned around and looked around… and looked around… and looked around some more until he finally asked, “Everything okay? You looking for an escape route?”

Keigo chuckled at the end, though he was not as calm as he pretended to be.

“No, I just…”, you then turned to him again, your brows furrowed, “… You can stop now, you know? Like, are you trying to prank me or…? Cameras anywhere? Like haha we got the fat guy. Look at him getting all flustered finally getting attention. Hahaha funny.”

At the end, you almost sounded a little angry, before you grabbed your drink and walked away from the bar. Saying Hawks was confused was an understatement. He just watched you for a moment as you walked away and squeezed into a lonely corner. God… How many people must have put you down for you to think he was pranking you?

“This is going to be more difficult than I thought.”

Running his hand through his hair, Kei had to calm down for a moment and reevaluate. Did you reject him because you genuinely weren’t interest or because you were self-conscious? Probably the latter. So… should he try again? Fuck yeah. As if he was going to give up so easily. He just needed you to know he really wasn’t pranking you, the rest… was up to Future-Keigo.

Clearing his throat and taking his drink, he then walked over to your corner. Standing in front of you he was so  s m o l. It would probably feel great hugging you.

“Okay that was rough. Listen, I really don’t wanna prank you or anything. Just… get to know you… ya know?”, this time he genuinely smiled a little, hoping you wouldn’t just reject him again.

Raising one brow, you were still rather suspicious. AS IF someone like Keigo would want to get to know you. Something was not right, you could feel it in every fiber of your big, chubby body. Then again.. maybe the only thing that you felt was the insecurities that held you back from getting to know someone who might genuinely be interested in you.

So, you gave yourself a little push.

“Yeah… I guess… I’m not really used to…. You know, how about we just start over?”

Keigo thought he had finally cracked you, giving himself a mental high five for being persistent. Thus, with a small smile he nodded and reached out his hand.

“Sure, nice to meet you, I’m Takami Keigo.”

“I’m [Your.name], nice to meet you.”, you finally smiled a little as well. Oof, his heart just jumped. Why was he so smitten already? He literally just met you. Keigo definitely wanted to get to know you more.

“So, how about we go take a seat over there? I could do with another drink.”, he said while pointing in the direction of a free table.

For a moment, you hesitated, though after a few seconds, you nodded, “Yeah, sounds nice.”

-

Without realizing it, hours went by as you and Hawks sometimes were the loudest ones laughing. Your friends just glancing over every so often, obviously jealous you had gotten the most handsome men of all of them today. But for the first time, you didn’t care what other’s thought as you and Kei just had … a connection.

Hence why, when he glanced down to his watch and sighed, you felt a little sad.

“I wish this night wouldn’t end. But I have a model job tomorrow and I only was a backup for someone so I didn’t even intend to have so much fun today. Time sure flies with you, [Your.name].”, he gave you one of his best smiles that made your throat dry and your knees weak.

“I… really enjoyed myself, too. Thank you. And sorry for acting like that in the beginning.”, you smiled apologetically and a little flustered. He found it very endearing.

“That’s fine, don’t worry about it. Well…”, he then looked at his phone and stood up, “It’s 2 a.m. definitely missed the last train. I’m gonna make a quick call for a taxi.”

“Hm.”, you nodded and watched for a second as he went outside where it was a little quieter to call.

Looking between Hawks and your friends who were still partying with Keigo’s friend group, you wondered if you should bring him home. You were the driver, but… how often had your friends disappeared with someone without telling you? How often did you leave a party all by yourself? It was time to be a little selfish today.

So, you hastily stood up and walked outside the bar, watching as Keigo typed on his phone, ready to call.

“Uhm, Takami-san?”, you interrupted him.

“Hm?”, he was a little surprised.

“If you want.. I can drive you home. I brought my own car since I was planning on leaving earlier too and I only drank one cocktail right in the beginning and the rest was alcohol free stuff so… if you want?”, your voice became a little smaller by the end, not knowing if you were too eager. Was this okay?

“Really? That’s not a problem?”

“No! Not at all.”, you reassured him.

“That’s great! I only live like 20 minutes away if we take the car. Ahhh, you’re a life saver, [Your.name]! Thank you.”, Keigo beamed.

And so, you hopped into your car, the only place big enough for you, at least that’s what it felt like since you invested in a nice big one. Keigo was quite cute how he sat there in the big seat, being so small.

The drive to Hawks’ home was also filled with chatter and laughter, once again reassuring you both that you definitely had some sort of connection. And since he had been attracted to you before, it only gave him more reasons that he wanted to meet you again. Man… this could be the first time a group date turned out successfully – for the both of you!

When you parked in front of his apartment complex, Takami didn’t even want to go yet. Wishing that time would just stop, he sat there for a few seconds before turning to you.

“Thank you, [Your.name].”

“No problem, really!”

“You know, if it wasn’t that late I would have invited you to a coffee or another drink or something but alas…”

“It’s quite late…”, you almost said a little… saddened?

“Hm… It is… I’ll call you!” Hawks then said with a little bit of a grin, since you had exchanged phone numbers before.

“O-Okay.”, you didn’t know why you stuttered, it was just… really new.

“Oh, but you can call me too, yeah? Don’t be shy. Well, anyways.”, he jumped out of the car, turned one last time to grin at you, his golden eyes sparkling a little, making you even more flustered.

“Have a safe drive home and have a good night, [Your.name]!”

“Ah, you too, Takami-san!”

Then, you just watched as he walked up to his apartment complex. You didn’t know what suddenly got into you when you opened the door and jumped out, calling for him.

“Takami-san?!”, it was literally two in the morning, his poor neighbors.

Though Hawks immediately turned his head.

“I… really, really enjoyed myself today. Just… thank you.”

Oh my God, you were so cute. Such a gentle giant teddy bear, that’s what you were. Without thinking about it, Keigo rushed back, catching you a little off guard when he walked around the car.

“You know, I might be a little drunk, but fucking God – I want to kiss you SO. BAD. right now.”, Kei said without hold back. His golden eyes gleaming in the dark and his cheeks flushed, you didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol or if he was blushing.

You, on the other hand, were very flustered, yet you barely whispered, “Maybe you should…”

Which only made Hawks giggle and raise his arms. An almost… seductive grin on his lips.

“Then you should help me out a little here, Handsome!”

Was he a bit drunk? Possibly. Was he overly flirtatious because he truly liked your personality and found you attractive and DEFINITELY wanted to meet you again?... Probably. But someone as straight-forward as Hawks was exactly who you needed because of your tendencies to overthink everything. Especially when it came to your weight and thus attractiveness. (Even though the one didn’t have anything to do with the other though not when it came to society.)  

And so, you accommodated him by leaning down. Takami himself standing on his tiptoes, thus, after he had hoped all night long, his lips finally met yours. His small arms wrapped around your big, broad shoulders and your big hand was placed on his lower back. That’s what he had wanted. And it really happened. To say Keigo was quite euphoric was an understatement. He was ecstatic, overjoyed, jubilant and so much more – and that from a little kiss. He surely fell quick and hard. Something he had never experienced before.

After a few moments of pure delight, you were the first to pull back, just to watch Kei bite his lip in such a sexy way it took all of your control to not grab him and pin him onto your car’s hood.

“Thank you.”, he just whispered, still with that grin on his lips, “I really enjoyed myself, too.”

Then, he let go and you did as well, this time really just watching when he turned around and walked into the apartment complex with one last wave. So you got back into your car as well, the last minutes replaying in your head over and over again.

With your hand covering your face, you had to hide your stupid, big grin. If all of that was just a dream, you didn’t want to wake up. Someone found YOU attractive. You had deemed yourself the most unattractive, undatable guy and that only because society had always told you that. But he didn’t care. He liked your “undatable, unattractive” body just the way it was. And not only that, after a rough start, you got along so well. You loved his little laughs, his beautiful eyes and those soft lips-

“God I have never felt like that before, what the fuuuck??”, you mumbled to yourself, still in disbelief that night even happened.

But as you drove away, you heard a little noise that came from your phone and as you looked up, you quickly scanned the text before looking back onto the streets – a wide smirk spreading across your face.

The message read.

“txet me wehn yruoe home so i konw yuore hmoe safe!”

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@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: let’s appreciate all shapes and sizes. being a short and rather stumpy man myself, ive been struggling a little with how i view myself ever since my relationship ended. ive been casually looking on apps but i think I am not ready for another relationship yet since my last one was rather messy. anyways. I know you shouldn’t rely on others to feel validated and loved but loving yourself is hard, bro so… yeah, its nice being desired for once, no? also this kinda makes me wanna write a part two but eh we’ll see!

part 2.