#please don’t get lost in the algorithm

[teary-blues]

[gyuuberryy]

fatal trouble

pairing: vampire!sunghoon x reader

synopsis: your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go.

genre: roommates to lovers, vampire au, soulmate au

warnings: suggestive content, mentions of nightmares and blood, jealous!sunghoon, 

note: dropping this before i go on hiatus for a month due to school work. i haven't proofread it that well i hope there are no mistakes. also im obsessed with vampire aus, enhablr needs more of them fr!! i hope you enjoy reading this!

word count: 6k

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the soft glow of your laptop screen illuminated your face, casting long shadows across sunghoon's pristine white sheets. you were sprawled out on his bed, legs crossed beneath you, surrounded by a chaotic scatter of textbooks and papers. the quiet hum of the air conditioner filled the room, broken only by the intermittent clicks of your keyboard.

sunghoon sat at his desk, a silhouette against the darkened room, save for the focused beam of his desk lamp. his fingers danced across the keyboard with an almost rhythmic precision, the soft glow of the screen reflecting in his dark eyes. you’d grown accustomed to the sight of him engrossed in his work, a solitary figure lost in the world of ones and zeros.

you’d known each other for a few months now, the kind of acquaintance born out of shared living space and the occasional group project. as roommates sharing the same major, your apartment had become a de facto study hub. computer science had thrown you together more often than not, and tonight was no exception. 

“hey, did you get the part about the algorithm?” your voice, a whisper in the quiet, cut through the comfortable silence.

sunghoon glanced up, his eyes a deep, almost unnatural shade of red in the dim light. for a moment, you were struck by how different he looked compared to the daylight. “yeah, i think so. isn’t it something about minimising the time complexity?”

you nodded, your eyes scanning the code on your screen. “exactly. i’m just having trouble with the implementation.”

a comfortable silence settled over the room as you both focused on your respective screens. the only sound was the rhythmic tapping of keys and the occasional sigh of frustration. you glanced up at sunghoon, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of his monitor. his long, slender fingers moved with an almost hypnotic grace across the keyboard.

there was something undeniably attractive about his focused intensity. his features, normally sharp and aloof, softened slightly when he was engrossed in his work. it was a side of him you rarely saw, and it was oddly captivating.

you shook your head, mentally scolding yourself for such thoughts. he was your roommate, nothing more. and besides, there was no way he could be interested in someone like you.

“hey,” sunghoon’s voice cut through your reverie, “i think i figured it out.”

you blinked, startled. “oh, really? want to explain it?”

he nodded, sliding his chair back and standing up. he walked over to your side of the bed, his tall frame looming over you. as he leaned in to point at your screen, his scent washed over you – a subtle blend of wood and something else, almost sweet, that you couldn’t quite place.

you felt a strange warmth creeping up your neck as he hovered over you. his proximity was unnerving, yet strangely intoxicating. you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the code in front of you.

sunghoon's breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in closer, his voice a low rumble, "try this." his finger hovered over your keyboard, about to demonstrate.

you felt a shiver run down your spine, not from the cool night air but from the inexplicable sensation of being so close to him. his scent, a mix of something woodsy and faintly sweet, was intoxicating. you tried to focus on the code, to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

he typed a few lines, his fingers brushing against yours. the contact sent a jolt of electricity through you. you forced yourself to concentrate on the screen, trying to understand the changes he made.

"see?" he said, straightening up. "it's simpler this way."

you nodded, still reeling from the physical contact. "thanks," you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper.

sunghoon stepped back, a small smile playing on his lips. "no problem," he said, turning back to his own computer.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. it was just sunghoon, your roommate. nothing more. but the way he had acted, the way he had touched you, it was making it hard to think of him that way.

the room was quiet again, the only sounds the soft clacking of keyboards and the occasional rustle of paper. you were deep in thought, trying to wrap your head around a particularly complex problem when a question popped into your head. on impulse, you asked, “so, sunghoon, what do you do in your free time, when you’re not, you know, studying?”

sunghoon paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. a flicker of something, perhaps surprise or amusement, passed across his face before he responded smoothly, “free time is a luxury for a computer science student, don’t you think? but when i do find a spare moment, i usually spend it reading or exploring new coding languages.”

his answer was polite, but it felt rehearsed, as if he'd prepared a response for just such a question. a sense of curiosity sparked within you. you’d always thought sunghoon was a bit of an enigma, but this was a new level of intrigue.

curiosity, a persistent itch, prodded you to ask something more than just about schoolwork.

“hey, i was curious about this” you started, your voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioner, “where are you from?” it was a simple question, one you would normally ask any new acquaintance, but there was something about sunghoon that made you curious about his past.

he paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. for a moment, there was a stillness in the room that was almost palpable. then, with a casual shrug, he replied, "oh, just a small town. nothing interesting." the response was swift, deflecting your question with ease.

confused, you returned to your code, but your mind was racing. there was something off about sunghoon, something that had intrigued you from the moment you met him. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there were strange little details that had started to accumulate.

there were those odd instances – like the time you'd woken up in the middle of the night to find the kitchen light on and sunghoon standing at the counter, completely motionless, his eyes glowing an eerie red. or the way he seemed to have an uncanny ability to appear and disappear without a sound. and then there was the peculiar lack of a reflection in any mirror in his room.

these memories surfaced, sharp and clear, as if your brain was piecing together a puzzle it didn't know existed. you shook your head, dismissing the thoughts as overactive imagination. after all, sunghoon was just your roommate, a fellow computer science student. nothing more, nothing less.

a yawn escaped your lips as you stretched, the late hour finally catching up with you. “i think i’m going to call it a night,” you announced, rubbing your eyes. the weight of the unanswered questions about sunghoon was beginning to feel heavy.

sunghoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the computer screen. “alright, good night then. i’ll probably stay up a bit longer.”

you nodded in response, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. as you stood up, you glanced down at the floor. something was off. the soft glow from sunghoon’s computer cast long shadows on the floor, including a distinct one from his chair. but there was no shadow of sunghoon himself. the spot where his shadow should have been was empty, an inky void against the illuminated floor.

a chill ran down your spine. your heart pounded in your ears. your mind raced, trying to come up with a logical explanation, but nothing made sense. you snatched up your bag, your movements jerky and panicked. without a second thought, you fled back to your room, the door slamming shut behind you. you fumbled with the lock, your hands trembling. only when you heard the satisfying click of the lock did you allow yourself to breathe.

your heart pounded in your ears as you leaned against the cool metal of your door. the realisation of what you had seen was slowly sinking in. no human lacked a shadow. it was impossible. a chill ran down your spine.

you tried to rationalise it away. maybe there was a draft, or a trick of the light. but deep down, you knew better. something was profoundly wrong, and it was connected to sunghoon. the friendly, quiet roommate you thought you knew was now shrouded in an unsettling mystery.

you glanced at the clock. it was late, and exhaustion was starting to creep in. you needed to sleep, to clear your head. but how could you sleep with this looming over you? you decided to distract yourself by pulling out a book from your shelf, hoping the words would drown out the unsettling thoughts.

as you turned the pages, your mind kept drifting back to sunghoon. his unusual behaviour, the absence of his shadow, it all fit together into a terrifying puzzle. you tried to shake off the feeling, but it was like a persistent itch you couldn't scratch.

sleep finally claimed you, but it was restless. your dreams were filled with shadows, long and menacing, closing in on you. you woke up with a start, your heart racing. the first light of dawn was filtering through your curtains. you got out of bed and went to the window. the world outside looked ordinary, peaceful. but you knew the truth was far from it.

something was wrong with sunghoon, and you were determined to find out what.

the days following your unsettling discovery were a blur of forced normalcy. you tried to interact with sunghoon as if nothing was amiss, but the weight of your knowledge cast a long shadow over your interactions. you found yourself avoiding his gaze, your voice trembling when you spoke to him.

sunghoon seemed oblivious to your discomfort at first. he’d always been a quiet person, so his reserved nature didn’t raise any immediate suspicion. however, as the days turned into weeks, his patience began to wear thin.

"hey, are you free to study together tomorrow?" he asked one evening as you were both making dinner. his tone was casual, but you could detect a hint of underlying disappointment.

your heart skipped a beat. you’d been avoiding his study invitations, coming up with increasingly elaborate excuses. the truth hung heavy in the air, a tangible thing between you. you hesitated, your mind racing.

"i... i’m really busy tomorrow," you stammered, your voice barely audible. "maybe next week?"

disappointment flashed across sunghoon’s face before he masked it with a forced smile. "sure, no problem," he replied, his voice flat.

as he turned away, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. you'd hurt him, and you knew it.

the night was a descent into terror. you dreamt of shadows, long and menacing, closing in on you. sunghoon was there, but not as you knew him. his eyes burned with an unnatural light, and his form was distorted, monstrous. you were running, but your legs were leaden, and the shadows were gaining on you. a scream built in your throat, but no sound escaped.

you woke with a start, drenched in sweat. your heart pounded like a drumbeat in your chest. panic washed over you as you gasped for air. you were disoriented, unsure of where you were. a noise from the living room startled you, and you jumped out of bed.

the light was on, and there, standing in the doorway, was sunghoon, his face etched with concern. before you could react, you found yourself lunging at him, your hands grasping at his neck. he didn't fight back, instead, he held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

your sobs racked your body as you clung to him, finding solace in his warmth. he shushed you softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. gradually, your breathing began to slow, and your body relaxed.

when you finally calmed down, sunghoon gently guided you back to bed. he sat on the edge, running a comforting hand through your hair. you clung to him, your fear slowly dissipating.

in the quiet that followed, you felt a strange urge to confide in him. your voice was barely a whisper when you began, "i dreamt of you... as something... different."

sunghoon stiffened, but his grip on you didn't loosen. something flashed behind his eyes, but he listened intently as you recounted the terrifying details of your nightmare. when you finished, he was silent for a long moment. finally, he whispered, "go back to sleep," and you felt him lean down to kiss your forehead.

with that, he quietly left the room, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

the days that followed were a careful ballet of avoidance. you moved through your days with a practised detachment, constructing an invisible wall between yourself and sunghoon. the weight of your decision pressed down on you like a physical burden. despite the burgeoning crush that had blossomed in the quiet corners of your heart, you'd created a formidable wall between yourself and sunghoon. his enigmatic nature, coupled with the unsettling discoveries you'd made, had convinced you to keep him at arm's length. it was a lonely existence, a self-imposed exile that offered a semblance of safety.

your days were a monotonous cycle of lectures, assignments, and solitary meals. you'd found solace in the company of your classmate, lee heeseung, his cheerful demeanour a stark contrast to the storm raging within you. yet, even as you laughed and shared stories with him, a part of you longed for the quiet intensity of sunghoon's presence.

in the vast, impersonal lecture hall, you’d sought refuge in the anonymity of the crowd. but even here, you couldn't escape the weight of your decision. a persistent sense of being watched gnawed at you, a constant reminder of the eyes that followed your every move. and you knew very well who it was. it was during one such lecture that the tension reached a breaking point.

you were engrossed in your notes when a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught your attention. a cold prickle ran down your spine as you slowly turned your head. there, in the row behind you, sat sunghoon, his gaze fixed intently on you. his expression was a complex interplay of emotions - longing, pain, and a flicker of something darker.

your heart pounded in your chest as a wave of guilt washed over you. you'd hurt him, pushed him away without a second thought. in that moment, as his eyes held yours, you realised the depth of your own cowardice.

not to mention, with each passing night your nightmares had intensified. each night a descent into a darker, more terrifying realm. sleep, once a refuge, had transformed into a battlefield, leaving you exhausted and on edge. the physical toll was evident - dark circles shadowed your eyes, and your skin had started to take on a sickly pallor.

despite your deteriorating condition, you continued to maintain your distance from sunghoon. guilt gnawed at you, but fear held you captive. yet, in the aftermath of each nightmare, you found yourself seeking solace in his presence. he’d sit by your bed his silent vigil a comforting anchor in the storm of your nightmares. his touch, gentle and reassuring, had become a lifeline, pulling you back from the brink of despair.

one particularly harrowing night, you woke up screaming, your body drenched in sweat. sunghoon was by your side almost instantly, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. as your fear subsided, you began to recount the nightmare, your voice trembling.

"i... i dreamt of a place," you managed to say, your words halting. "a dark place, with... with strange symbols."

sunghoon's grip tightened around you. "and you were alone," he finished for you, his voice low and soothing.

your eyes widened in shock. how could he know what you had dreamt about? you hadn’t even managed to complete your story. yet, sunghoon had described it perfectly, as if he had been there with you.

a chill ran down your spine. you pulled away from him, your eyes filled with fear and confusion. sunghoon simply looked at you, his expression unreadable, before turning and leaving the room.

what did this mean? how could sunghoon know about your nightmares? the answers were as elusive as ever, but one thing was certain: the line between the ordinary and the extraordinary was blurring, and you were caught in the crossfire.

the nightmares ceased as abruptly as they had begun. you woke each morning feeling refreshed, the spectre of terror finally lifted from your shoulders. a sense of relief washed over you, but it was tinged with a strange melancholy. the nightly visits from sunghoon, a comforting ritual amidst the chaos, were now absent.

initially, you welcomed the return to normalcy. the constant fear and exhaustion had taken a toll on you, and the ability to sleep soundly was a precious gift. but as days turned into weeks, a nagging sense of unease crept in. sunghoon's absence, once a welcome respite, now felt like a void.

you started noticing subtle changes in him. his eyes, once bright and alert, were now shadowed by dark circles. his once sharp features seemed softened by fatigue. it was as if a weight was pressing down on him, a burden he carried alone.

a pang of guilt struck you. perhaps your avoidance had contributed to his deteriorating condition. you wanted to reach out, to offer support, but fear held you back. what if your presence only made things worse? what if you discovered something terrifying?

you longed to reach out to him, to offer solace and support, but the words remained trapped in your throat. the fear of rejection, of further pushing him away, paralyzed you. it was a cruel irony that the person you yearned to comfort was the one causing you the most pain. 

the afternoon sun beat down on the bustling campus as you made your way towards the nearest convenience store. the promise of a refreshing popsicle was the only thing that could lure you away from the confines of your dorm room. with a popsicle clutched in your hand, you emerged from the store, ready to face the world, one frozen treat at a time.

just as you were about to savour the first bite, heeseung materialised beside you, his infectious grin lighting up his face. "arcade?" he suggested, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. you nodded, the prospect of a distraction proving too tempting to resist.

you split the popsicle down the middle, the sweet, icy treat a welcome respite from the oppressive heat. as you handed one half to heeseung, a strange sensation washed over you. it was as if a cold draft had swept across your skin, a shiver that had nothing to do with the melting popsicle in your hand.

instinctively, you turned around, your heart pounding in your chest. there, on the other side of the road, stood sunghoon, his figure cast in the harsh sunlight. his eyes, usually guarded, were fixed on you with an intensity that bordered on hostility. a scowl marred his usually indifferent features, and his jaw was clenched tightly.

you offered a timid smile, a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm between you. but his gaze remained unwavering, cold and unforgiving. with a final, contemptuous glance, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

a wave of guilt and confusion washed over you. you'd hurt him, you knew that. but the intensity of his reaction was unexpected, almost frightening. as you turned back to heeseung, you forced a smile, determined to push the unsettling encounter to the back of your mind.

the encounter with sunghoon left a bitter taste in your mouth. his hostile glare had shattered the fragile peace you'd been cultivating. as you and heeseung made your way to the arcade, your mind raced, trying to decipher the meaning behind sunghoon's outburst. had your avoidance pushed him to the brink? or was there something more sinister at play?

the arcade, with its flashing lights and the cacophony of sound, offered a temporary escape from the turmoil within. you lost yourself in the rhythm of the games, the competitive spirit temporarily drowning out the unsettling incident. yet, even as you laughed and cheered with heeseung, your mind kept drifting back to sunghoon, his angry gaze burning into your memory.

as the afternoon wore on, a sense of unease settled over you. the carefree atmosphere of the arcade couldn't mask the growing storm within. the incident with sunghoon had opened a wound, a raw and painful reminder of the complex dynamics between you.

you glanced at heeseung, his laughter infectious, and felt a pang of guilt. he was doing everything to lift your spirits, to distract you from your troubles. but your mind was elsewhere, trapped in a labyrinth of doubt and fear.

the walk back to your dorm was a solitary affair. the campus, usually bustling with activity, seemed deserted. with each step, the weight of your worries grew heavier. the encounter with sunghoon had forced you to confront the reality of the situation. you couldn't continue to bury your head in the sand, hoping that the problem would resolve itself.

the weight of the day pressed down on you as you unlocked the apartment door. exhaustion tugged at your limbs, but the lingering unease from your encounter with sunghoon kept your mind racing. 

as you stepped into the living room, a jolt of surprise ran through you. sunghoon was standing in the kitchen, his silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the refrigerator.

there was an unnatural stillness to him, a predatory calm that sent a shiver down your spine. his eyes, when they met yours, held a strange intensity, a glint of something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. "fancy seeing you here," he said, his voice low and measured.

you forced a smile, your heart pounding in your chest. "just got back," you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

he approached you slowly, his steps deliberate. "we have that new assignment," he began, his voice low and seductive. "maybe we could work on it together tomorrow?"

your mind raced, trying to come up with an excuse. "i'm... i'm pretty busy," you stammered, avoiding his gaze.

sunghoon's expression darkened. with a swift movement, he closed the distance between you, cornering you against the kitchen counter, his hands grabbing your hips. his proximity was unnerving, his scent, a mix of wood and something faintly sweet, filling your senses. you could feel his breath on your skin, hot and heavy. 

"don't lie to me," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. "i know what's going on."

his grip tightened around you, and you winced. 

"it's nothing," you insisted, your voice trembling. "just... busy."

"busy with heeseung?" he spat out, his jealousy evident in his tone. his eyes narrowed, and you could see the anger simmering beneath the surface.

your face flushed with embarrassment. he was taking this the wrong way. “it’s not like that,” you stammered, your voice barely a whisper.

sunghoon's grip tightened, pinning you against the cool surface of the counter. his breath was warm against your skin, and a strange sensation, a mix of fear and excitement, coursed through your veins.

“don’t lie to me,” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “you're avoiding me.”

you didn't know why, but the power dynamic between you and sunghoon was intoxicating. he had never behaved this way before let alone showcase jealousy so blatantly. it was hot. you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. 

before you could respond, you found yourself leaning in, your lips brushing against his. it was an impulsive act, a desperate attempt to silence him, to end the confrontation. but, to your surprise, he responded, his lips moving against yours with a gentle intensity.

the world seemed to slow down as the kiss deepened. but as quickly as it had begun, it ended. you pulled away, your heart pounding in your chest.

overwhelmed by a rush of emotions, you turned and fled to your room, slamming the door behind you. you leaned against the door, panting, your mind racing. 

the realisation of what you had done hit you like a tidal wave. you had kissed your roommate, a person you were actively avoiding due to a growing sense of fear and unease. the implications of your actions were terrifying. you'd crossed a line, a boundary you had carefully constructed to protect yourself.

a series of frantic knocks on the door jolted you out of your stupor. it was sunghoon, his voice muffled through the wood. "open up, please," he pleaded. your heart pounded in your chest. you couldn't face him now. you needed time to process what had happened, to regain control of the situation.

the knocking continued for a few minutes before finally ceasing. silence enveloped the room, heavy and oppressive. you slid down the door, your body trembling. what had you done?

morning arrived with a sense of foreboding. the thought of facing sunghoon filled you with dread, but the need to uncover the truth was stronger. you waited until the sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway, a sign that he had left for his morning jog.

with a deep breath, you crept into sunghoon's room, a sense of trepidation gnawing at you. the room was immaculate, a stark contrast to the chaos that often reigned in your own space. everything had its place, every surface spotless. there were no hidden compartments, no secret drawers, no clues to the enigmatic man who inhabited this space.

disappointment washed over you. you'd hoped to find something, anything that would explain the strange occurrences, the unsettling behaviour. but the room held no secrets, only a sense of emptiness.

your eyes scanned the room, searching for any hidden compartments or secret passages. everything seemed ordinary, almost mundane. disappointment was beginning to creep in when your gaze fell on a small cabinet tucked beneath sunghoon's desk. it was always locked, a tantalising enigma that had piqued your curiosity countless times.

today, however, there was a change. a key was lodged in the lock, an open invitation to delve into the forbidden. a wave of hesitation washed over you. you were invading his privacy, crossing a line you had sworn never to cross. but the allure of the unknown was too strong. curiosity, like a relentless tide, pulled you forward.

with trembling hands, you grasped the key and turned it. the lock clicked open with a satisfyingly smooth sound. you slid open the cabinet door, your heart pounding in your chest. a mini-fridge, small and unassuming, greeted you. a wave of relief washed over you. so this was the secret? a hidden stash of snacks?

you reached out to open the fridge door, a smirk playing on your lips. but as the cool air enveloped you, your blood ran cold.

inside, lined up neatly on the shelves, were rows of blood bags. the crimson liquid glinted in the dim light, a chilling contrast to the sterile white plastic. the sight was so surreal, so utterly horrifying, that for a moment, you thought you were hallucinating.

your mind went blank. a wave of nausea washed over you as you stared at the horrifying contents of the fridge. this couldn't be real. this was a nightmare, a twisted hallucination. but the cold, hard truth stared back at you, undeniable and terrifying.

the world tilted as your legs gave way, sending you crashing to the knees. blood bags. sunghoon kept blood bags. your roommate, the seemingly normal guy you knew, was a… vampire? the very concept seemed absurd, ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel. yet, the evidence sat before you, a stark reality that defied logic.

panic clawed at your throat, but a desperate hope flickered within you. maybe it was a medical condition. maybe he had a strange blood fetish. anything but a vampire!

"vampires don't exist, do they?", you mutter to yourself still in shock.

"yes, they do," a low voice confirmed, sending a tremor through your entire body. you spun around, scream caught in your throat. sunghoon stood in the doorway, his face unreadable, his eyes a bottomless well of emotions.

shame washed over you in a tidal wave. you felt exposed, not just for snooping, but for the fear and disgust that clouded your mind.

jumping out the window, a ridiculous notion moments ago, now seemed like the only way out. here, trapped in this surreal nightmare, your only escape seemed to be a dramatic leap from the fourth floor. it wouldn't kill you, right? you’d only break a few bones at best, which you were absolutely okay with. 

with a burst of adrenaline, you scrambled to your feet and bolted towards the window, desperation fueling your actions. but before you could reach the latch, a hand clamped around your waist, pulling you back with an iron grip. "don't even think about it," sunghoon's voice was a low growl, the air crackling with unspoken emotions.

you were pinned against his chest, his warmth a stark contrast to the chilling terror that gripped you. his eyes, no longer cold and distant, burned with a mix of anger and concern.

his words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the wildness of your actions. you struggled against his hold, your fear fueling your resistance. but there was an undeniable strength in him, a power that held you captive.

"please, let me go," you gasped, your voice trembling.

sunghoon's grip loosened slightly, and he took a step back. his eyes held a mixture of concern and something else, something you couldn't quite decipher. "i won't hurt you," he said, his voice soft. "i need to explain."

your eyes met his, a mixture of fear and confusion swirling in their depths. sunghoon seemed to read your mind, his expression softening as he took a step closer. he sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to carry the weight of centuries.

"i know this is a lot to take in," he began, his voice low and steady. "but i need you to trust me."

you nodded, your mind racing. there was something about his tone, a vulnerability beneath the hardened exterior, that compelled you to listen.

"i'm a vampire," he said, the words hanging heavy in the air. "it's not how i wanted things to be, but it's the reality i've been forced to live with."

he paused, his eyes searching your face for any signs of revulsion. but to your surprise, a strange sense of calm washed over you. this was the answer, the missing piece to the puzzle.

he went on to explain his existence, the centuries of solitude, and the desperate hope that had brought him to you. he talked about the blood bags, a necessary evil to sustain his life.

he continued, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability. "i’ve been alone for so long. i've tried to live a normal life, to blend in. and then i met you."

his gaze softened, a tender look replacing the earlier intensity. "you're my anchor, my reason to keep going. your nightmares, the ones you've been having, are a connection between us. we share them, a soulmate bond, if you will. it's the only way for me to experience human emotions, to feel truly alive."

the revelation was mind-boggling. a vampire? your soulmate? it was a story straight out of a gothic novel. yet, as he spoke, a sense of peace washed over you. there was a truth in his eyes, a vulnerability that resonated with your own.

without thinking, you reached out and hugged him. your arms wrapped around him, offering comfort and acceptance. he froze, surprised by your sudden embrace.

"i don't care," you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. "i'll figure it out. we'll figure it out together."

he returned the hug, his arms tightening around you. his face was buried in your neck, his breath warm against your skin. you could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a rhythm that mirrored your own. in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, fear and confusion faded, replaced by a sense of hope and possibility.

"i'm so sorry about the nightmares," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "i stopped sleeping for a while, trying to find a way to stop them. i hated seeing you scared, all because of me."

your heart ached for him. he had sacrificed his own well-being to protect you. anger and concern warred within you. how could he be so selfless, so reckless? you pushed against his chest, needing to see his face, to read the emotions swirling in his eyes.

"don't be stupid," you scolded, your voice stern. "you can't just stop sleeping."

you gently pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance between you. you needed to see his face, to gauge his sincerity.

"stop," he whined, his voice laced with playful annoyance. "just stay like this for a little longer."

his words were a stark contrast to the seriousness of the situation, but they had the desired effect. you froze, your body responding to the unexpected shift in tone. sunghoon's grip tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. his lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. the warmth of his breath mingled with the scent of his skin, creating an intoxicating blend that clouded your senses.

you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions, fear and confusion replaced by a growing sense of intimacy. the line between platonic comfort and something more was blurring, and you were dangerously close to crossing it.

his voice dropped to a low octave, a husky rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "i can't stop thinking about how your lips felt against mine last night," he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. he pulled back, his eyes holding yours, a mischievous glint in their depths. 

"can we do that again?" he asked, his voice laced with playful arrogance.

before you could respond, his lips were on yours, claiming your mouth with a fierce urgency. the kiss was a whirlwind, a tempest of emotions and sensations. his tongue explored your mouth, demanding entrance, while your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. the kiss was different from the one you had shared the night before, filled with a newfound urgency and intensity. his tongue explored your mouth, a dance of desire and longing. you could feel the heat radiating from his body, a warmth that was both intoxicating and terrifying.

his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. with a swift movement, he lifted you onto the bed, his lips trailing a path of fire down your neck. he nuzzled your skin, his breath creating a tingling sensation. "you smell so good," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "i had to stop myself from pouncing on you the first time i saw you." 

"from now on, you're sleeping in my bed," he declared, his voice firm. "i need to make sure those nightmares don't come back. and besides, i like having you close."

as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. in this moment, with sunghoon holding you close, everything else seemed to fade away. the line between reality and fantasy blurred, replaced by a single, undeniable truth: you were in the arms of a vampire, and you were dangerously close to falling in love.

his lips trailed down your neck, with such heat that it left you breathless. he nibbled at your skin, his teeth gently scraping against your sensitive flesh. the sensation was both painful and exhilarating, a heady mix of fear and desire. you gasped, your body arching involuntarily. 

"i'm not going to bite you," he promised, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. 

"not yet, at least."

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

AAAA are you planning on continuing the "How They Kiss" series? If so could you please do my sweet baby Hitoshi next? :cccc

Ooooo yessss - I've been wanting to write some Hitoshi fic for a while!! 💜

Shinsou x Reader | Headcannon: How Hitoshi Shinsou Kisses 💋

The first time Hitoshi kisses you – you totally don’t see it coming. It happens in the library on a quiet Sunday afternoon. Hitoshi is sitting in your favorite spot of the city's library – a cozy corner hidden from view behind the oversized art book section. He’s dragged two large beanbag chairs into the tiny space, waiting for you to join him as he studies for an upcoming Pro hero rescue certification exam. He’s flipping through flashcards when you arrive bearing a purple travel mug filled with his favorite caffeinated beverage. You know your friend is a chronic insomniac – with his permanently baggy eyes and constant yawns - so you decided to get him a refillable mug so he can keep his coffee close throughout exam week. You’ve stuck a cute sticker of a black cat with big eyes to the side of the mug, knowing his TikTok algorithm is almost exclusively cat videos.

“’Toshiiiiii!” You warble quietly as you drop your school bag next to your beanbag chair. “I brought you a ‘lil treat for studying so hard!”

Hitoshi looks up in surprise, his forehead still wrinkled in concentration. He puts down his flash cards and when he realizes it’s you standing over him, he smiles easily. Things have always been like this between the two of you – soft and comfortable. 

“You brought me something?” He instantly locks on to the steaming mug of coffee, his eyes crinkling into a smile when he sees the cat sticker. “Is that the cat from Kiki’s Delivery Service?”

“Yup!” you hand him the cup as you plop down into your chair and start shuffling through your bag for your notes. “You told me it was your favorite movie as a kid, so I found a little sticker of Gigi on Etsy.”

After a few moments of digging through your bag, you finally find the sheaf of notes you’re looking for and you yank them out – sheets of paper flying all around you. “Whoops!” You hastily gather the papers back into a neat stack.

When you finally look up, you meet Hitoshi’s eyes – he’s giving you an intense, searching look. His eyes are wide, and there’s a soft pink blush across the high points of his cheeks. He absentmindedly smooths a hand through his wild hair, seemingly lost for words.

“What?” You say, a little startled at the sudden tense atmosphere. “Everything okay? Is that not your preferred flavor of coffee?”

“Of course you remembered my favorite flavor.” His voice a quiet rumble and seems to catch in his throat.

You swallow, suddenly feeling hot around the collar as he continues to gaze at you through those bright violet eyes. You can see him biting back his next sentence, seemingly steeling himself to say something.

After a few moments, he takes a steadying breath and his eyes sparkle with a look of resolve. Hitoshi softly places the hot mug of coffee on the ground before leaning towards you. Instantly, he’s a breath away from your face – his delicate features magnified as he tilts his face towards yours.

“You’re just so…” He whispers, moving to brush his thumb against your cheek. Your skin feels like it’s blooming with tiger lilies at the contact. “…sweet.” His tired eyes flutter shut and he leans into you – guiding your lips to his.

The first kiss is feather light – tentative. He wants to make sure you want him back – he needs you to want him with the same deep intensity he’s been feeling in his gut for you for so long. His lips are impossibly soft and taste like a light berry lip balm, and you find the flavor absolutely delicious. When you respond eagerly he smiles into the kiss, blissful. How lucky is he to get to kiss your pretty face?

Hitoshi climbs into the beanbag chair with you deftly, moving his hands to cradle your face. He moves his mouth against yours slowly, purposefully – almost lazily. It’s such a Shinsou way of kissing that it makes you giggle.

“Hey, now.” He breaks the kiss, bringing his forehead to yours as he takes a shaky breath. “Is my kissing that bad?” He’s smiling, but you can tell he’s the tiniest bit nervous for your answer.

You lean in to kiss him again and he pulls back, his lips just out of reach – teasing.

“Your technique can use some refining. But I know someone who can help you practice.” You grin, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him back in for more. He loves that – the banter, the ways you are able to both make him feel comfortable and keep him on his toes. He deepens the kiss, and you know it will be a while before you get back to studying. His flash cards lay abandoned on the floor by your stack of notes.

---------------------

After that, he’s hooked on you. Any trace of nervousness is nonexistent. In just one afternoon, Hitoshi Shinsou has become a lean, mean, make out machine. He absolutely cannot be stopped. He kisses you everywhere he can – in the library, in dark corners of your favorite bar, at the convenience store. He’s constantly trying to sneak away with you so he can crash your lips together in that way that makes his brain feel all blissed out and fuzzy.

I think we’ve all seen just how much determination Hitoshi has – it takes a lot of unwavering dedication to claim a spot in the hero course. He’s just as determined to figure out how you like to be kissed. He pays attention to what makes your pulse race – maybe he kissed your neck a certain way and you moaned? He’s filing that away in his brain so he can do it again and again and again. You don’t like it when he bites your lower lip? He takes note and never does it that way again. He’s committed to figuring out exactly what makes you tick and how he can maximize your pleasure every time. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have the affections of someone like you – someone so sweet and gorgeous and goddamn perfect.

Of course, once he realizes you find him irresistible – he’s smug AF. He becomes such a goddamn tease. You’ll get a rare private moment and move in to kiss him, only for him to dodge your advances until your lips form a disappointed pout. He absolutely revels in how much you want him and loves to build up the tension between the two of you. He’ll kiss you playfully on the cheeks before your disappointed look causes him to concede. “Sorry, Sweetheart.” He says in his low, gravely whisper. “You know I love to tease.” And then he’ll kiss you with as much passion as he can muster, until your legs turn to jello. After all – it’s not in a hero’s nature to do anything half-assed.

----------------------------------------

Thanks so much for reading!!

Interested in some ~smuttier~ Shinsou content!? Check out my story:

Never Too Tired To Love You💜

My Master List! 💜

[billericious]

collateral | b.e

The last time you had seen Billie was 6 months ago, the tone it had been left on was sour, an argument if she was as committed to the relationship as you were. Half of a year since then, and you were still looking for answers. Did she miss you as much as you missed her? No, you don’t miss her. You can’t miss her. But when you're alone in your bed on a cold winter night, you let your mind drift off to imagine her warmth surrounding you, holding you just as she used to. You miss her in the quiet moments of life.

You look over to your nightstand, the clock reading 3:26 AM. deciding sleep is a lost cause, you pick up your phone and scroll mindlessly, trying to distract yourself from the ache in your heart. As if the algorithm was laughing at you, an ad of billie promoting her upcoming project pops up. She talks and smiles, telling whoever would be watching how excited she is for everyone to hear her art. You search her eyes, a sign that she could even be remotely sad without you. Maybe it’s the fact that the video is prerecorded, or maybe she doesn’t feel your absence at all that makes you find nothing.

You can't stop your mind from going back to that fateful night.

“So what, you just want to end this?” she stands with you, toe to toe and tears glossing over her blue eyes. “Billie, you’re not even hearing me, just hearing what you want to hear!” tears fill your own eyes, blurring your vision. The argument escalated quickly, emotions that had been brewing in you for months finally spilling out at an alarming rate.

You continue, “I just feel used, okay? We’ve been going out for a year without even being together officially. I understand that you’re busy, that the situation isn’t as simple as it seems, but fuck billie. You’ve had time, and I've had enough.” the girl in front of you falls silent, her mouth slightly ajar as she tries to collect her thoughts. The tension only grows as she stays quiet. “So that’s it then? You have nothing to say?” Billie picks up her jaw and rolls her eyes.

“I want you, truly. It's just tha-” you cut her off with a sarcastic laugh, tears rolling down your cheeks. “There's always an excuse, bil! I’m just never enough for you, never enough to just be yours.” eye contact breaks as you look down to the floor, quiet sobs escaping your mouth. Billie is quick to step forward and pull you close. Too tired to fight back, you melt into her arms.

“I’m sorry, baby. I am.” she whispers into your hair, “i just…can’t” you look up at her, eyes red and puffy. “You can’t? Can’t do what you're doing right now?” you push her off of you, anger over taking once again. “Don’t make it sound like that, y/n. You know it’s more than that”

“A year billie! And for what? For you to just use me, use my love, my time, my body?” Billie's eyebrows scrunch at your words. “I would never use you, I love you, you know that.” she begins to defend herself. “Then what are you doing?” your ears feel warm and your stomach is churning. You already know where this is going, despite your best efforts.

You look at each other, a desperation in both of your eyes, a hunger.

“I don’t know.” she whispers.

“Leave, now.” you respond.

“y/n, don’t do this. Please, please don’t do this” she begs you, pleading. “No billie, I can't keep doing this.” Billie's tears finally falling down her rosy cheeks, a look of acceptance settles onto her face.

“Okay.”

You watch her grab her keys and walk towards the door. She looks back at you one final time, hoping you would change your mind. Crossing your arms, you stand firmly, despite feeling anything but confident.

You sit on the edge of your bed, holding your knees to your chest. Cries rake through your body, the memory being all too much. A ding from your phone makes you look up, rubbing the tears from your eyes as you pick up the device. It feels like the world stops spinning as you read the notification.

Billie

hey

pt 2

maze speaks !

this is so ass </3 so sorry :p first fic tho! just hoping i get better as time goes on (part two probs)

[musings-of-a-rose]

A New Life - Part 1

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x ofc Cornelia

Word Count: 4700+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Summary: After her husband's quick death, Cornelia finds herself back in her childhood home. But when her father passes, her cruel brother Cato becomes Lord of the city. She feels trapped, hopeless, destined for nothing as her brother tortures her day in and out. Until one day, a certain renowned General comes to claim her city in the name of Rome. When her brother hastily offers her up in surrender to the stoic General, Cornelia happily complies. Anything to get away from her brother. But will the General accept her? What fate lies in store for her in the hands of General who has never lost a battle? And will she be able to survive Rome itself?

Notes: sigh. look, I had one scene idea and it became this. If you've ever read anything by me, you know this happens. And just look at Acacius. How could I not? Shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for tolerating my existence in general for this fic.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

General Marcus Acacius Masterlist

“We can’t thank you enough, miss.”

I wave my hand. “No need to thank me. I’m just doing what I can.”

I pull the palla (scarf) over my head as I wind my way back up the city streets, heading towards the home I grew up in. The largest home in the entire province that used to belong to my father, the noble in charge of this entire area. But ever since he died, my brother has taken his place and well, let’s just say he is far from my favorite person. Which is why I’m hiding as I sneak back inside, my brother having forbidden my leaving the grounds ever since I was forced to return after my husband’s death. 

I wake the next morning to the sound of many footsteps running outside and down the halls. I quickly pull on my tunic and head out of the door, turning to head towards the main chambers where my brother would undoubtedly be. Sure enough, as I approached, I heard him raise his voice. It sounded like he was trying to muster troops? He barks out a few more commands and the door flies open, catching me off guard.

“Sister! Come here!” My brother, Cato, demands. I enter the room, casting my eyes downward and away from him for a moment before looking at him. 

“Brother, what is happening?”

His eyes scan me from head to foot, his lip pulling up in a snear. “The Army has arrived.”

I cock my head. “Who’s army?”

He sighs, exasperated,. “The Roman army, Cornelia. The one led by Marcus Acacius?”

My eyes widen. “The general who has never been beat?”

“That’s the one.”

The people running around make sense now. We’re preparing for a fight. “What will we do?”

“We will fight!”

I scoff. “You cannot hope to win.”

His mean eyes snap to mine. “You don’t think I can?”

“I…I just mean, General Acacius has a reputation. Our numbers are small, we can’t-”

He waves his hand at me, cutting me off. “Yes, yes. I know. We’re going to give it our best. But I also have a backup.” 

“Oh?”

The snear comes on full display. “Yes. Actually a way to solve 2 problems with one.”

“Two problems?”

“I will surrender and give the General you as a victory gift.”

My jaw drops, the air whooshing from my lungs. “M..me?”

“Yes, you. I know you’re already 30, but you look much younger. He won’t know. Besides, he doesn’t need to marry you.”

“You mean to give me to a man with no intention-”

He reaches out and grips my face with one hand. “Dear sister. I would whore you out to every noble, the emperors themselves, if it meant I got to keep my lifestyle.” He shoves me away. “Now go make yourself presentable. As much faith as I’d like to have in our troops, I rather think it will come down to you.”

And that was that. He turns, effectively cutting me off from any retort. I head back to my room, calling for one of my servants to help me prepare. As she washes me, I think on all that has transpired. Am I finally to be free of the hell that has been my life for the last several years? I know I should be afraid, terrified of the renowned General Acacius, but I’m not. Anything is better than here.

My brother has me sit in a chair off to the side of his own, the sound of swords clinking growing closer and closer. The heavy doors creak open and soldiers pour inside, nearly covering the space in a handful of steps. My brother holds up his white flag, a symbol of surrender and luckily, they stop, one of them yelling to get the General. Only a handful of moments pass before a man strides into the hall, broad shoulders barely contained in beautiful leather armor, the head of Medusa proudly displayed on its front. He is covered in blood and dirt and sweat, a sword still in his hand as he confidently strides up to my brother, who instantly bows. 

“General Acacius. I humbly surrender to your forces.”

“So many people died for you to be sitting here on your chair. You could have stopped the bloodshed before it started and you did not.”

“I had to give it my best shot. Honor was at stake. You can understand that, yes?”

General Acacius considers this for a moment. “And let me guess- honor is what you think will keep me from slicing you in half with my blade?”

The smile on Cato’s face falters slightly. “Well, yes.” The blade shifts in the General’s hand and my brother puts his hands up. “That and-” he reaches over and grabs my arm, his fingers digging into my skin as he throws me at the General. I fall to the floor on my knees with the unexpected movement, my palms stinging with the impact. “-my sister! Take her, marry her, use her, whatever. She is yours.”

The General leans forward, extending his hand towards me. I look at it, the blood and dirt mixed together in some kind of horrible art on his palm, and I take it, allowing him to help me up. Once I’m standing, my eyes find his and I’m shocked to see concern. 

“Are you alright, miss?” He asks, his eyes scanning my face.

I don’t break the gaze as I whisper. “Please take me with you. I will be faithful to you however you need me. Free me from this prison.”

He cocks his head ever so slightly, searching for something in me. Apparently he finds whatever he’s looking for as he looks over my shoulder back at Cato. “I will take her. But I should kill you here for the way you treat your people but especially for the way you treat your sister. Your own blood.”

“My people will recover and I’m sure you or your men will be thankful to have such a beauty after-” the General takes a step forward, his blade coming up. All I hear is slicing, a horrible gurgling, sputtering sound as a body thuds to the floor. I don’t move, not right away, using my breath to steady myself. I start to turn when the General grips my arms, preventing me from moving. 

“You do not need to see this.”

“I think I do.”

“Miss-”

I drop my voice so only he can hear me. “My brother has put me through hell for years. I have no love for him. Let me have this closure. Please.”

He hesitates for a moment before nodding, dropping his hands from my arms. I take a breath and turn, my eyes immediately finding the crimson pool on the floor, the thin gash across Cato’s throat bright and angry against his skin. His are vacant, every trace of the evil life he lived, gone. I nod once and turn back to the General, who is still watching me. His soldiers file from the room, a loud silence falling over us.

“So…do I..do I follow you or?”

He holds his hand up. “I do not plan on holding you to that deal or whatever your brother tried to do.” He starts to turn but I gently grip his arm. He looks down at my hand briefly before looking at me. 

“You saved me from this torture. I will be faithful and loyal to you.”

He puts his large hand over mine, taking it from his arm and holding it. “I have no doubt of that, miss. But you owe me nothing. Go live your life.”

“General Acacius, may I speak plainly?”

He nods. “Please.”

“I understand what you are trying to do. But please think: my brother has controlled this province ever since my father passed several years ago. He has placed more taxes and fees on these people than anyone before. And he just led half of them to slaughter with your arrival when he planned on surrendering. They are not happy with my house. They may like me but I don’t think that fondness will suffice when they are burying their husbands and sons for no reason.”

He thinks for several moments. “Perhaps you are right. I cannot in good conscience leave you here to die. I can escort you to our next province but know that it isn’t a place for a woman. War and battle are hard and bloody. I can protect you from my men but I cannot promise to protect you from those we fight against.”

“I understand. Wherever you need me, there I’ll be.”

“You are free to leave whenever you wish.” He turns, heading towards the doors.

“But what if I wish to stay? With you?” I follow behind him and slam into his chest when he abruptly stops and turns around. He looks down at me and my heartbeat races. Now I’m closer, I can see past the grime, see his greying hairs, the scar that runs down the side of his face, his eyes, dark and battle-hardened but also caring, a tinge of regret. They also darken with a look I’ve seen in many men’s faces as they chase the skirts of women. But then he blinks and it’s gone.

“We shall see.”

General Acacius accompanies me to my chambers and allows me to pack a few things. It’s lighter than I would normally travel with, considerably, but it’s not needed. And I can always get new things along the way. A few pallas (head scarfs) and tunics, some health and hygiene products and I’m ready, the General giving me a nod of approval at my small bag that I’d packed. His soldiers ransack the estate, including my room, taking anything of value to either sell or melt and turn into weapons. General Acacius ensured I had everything I wanted before he allowed it, a gesture I wasn’t expecting. As we head towards the front gates of my previous estate, he turns to me, speaking low so only I would hear.

“Stay close to me. Speak to no one. Pull that palla over your hair and stay quiet. Understood?”

I nod quickly as I do what he says, making sure it covers my hair. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you have a favorite horse?”

I blink. “Yes. In the stables.”

He allows me to lead us to the stables and I quickly locate my black barb horse, Caius. He is nervous, snuffing and chittering in his stable, but the moment he sees me, he calms. 

“Hi, Caius. Are you ready to go on an adventure?” He presses his forehead to mine, a gesture we’ve done since he was a foal. I can feel the General’s eyes on me, watching as I lead Caius from the stables and ready him for travel. It only takes a few minutes and I’m grateful for learning how to do it rather than relying solely on stable hands. He has me lead Caius out with his reins rather than riding, no doubt to make me less of an easier target. 

We head out of the main gate and I stifle a small gasp. I hear the sounds of wailing, mothers having lost sons, wives their husbands, children their fathers. The Roman soldiers are trying to calm the area, and they’re succeeding by sheer numbers, but the sounds of grief have no master. It’s then that I realize what the crimson tinge to the soil under my sandals is. I swallow hard, willing the tears not to fall. I don’t want to look weak. But these were my people, even if we were separated by title and money and my heart aches for them. 

General Acacius sets a brisk pace, winding around the main square, no doubt trying to avoid any sort of riot or call for my head. I couldn’t blame them. Like I’d said to the General, they may like me, but my family is the reason they’re burying their boys and men needlessly. I can feel how nervous Caius is, but he trusts me fully and obediently follows me without issue. What seems like hours later, we make it out of the city. The General steers us towards a group of men guarding horses. They salute him as he walks up.

“General, sir!”

He nods and they drop their salute. “My horse.”

“Yes, sir.” One of the soldiers runs off and comes back moments later with a beautiful chestnut colored horse. He hands the reins to the General and salutes before going back to his post. The General turns to me.

“We will ride to camp. Stay close to me. Keep that palla over your hair, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

He watches me for a moment, his hand coming up to rub his horse’s nose. “Ready?”

I swing myself up onto Caius in one fluid motion, one that I had been doing for the majority of my life and at least 10 years with Caius. His eyes linger on me as I settle in, adjusting my palla to cover my hair. Our eyes meet and he holds my gaze for just a brief moment before blinking and looking back towards his own horse, swinging himself onto the saddle. Despite my situation, I can't help but to think...

Damn he looks good on a horse. 

We don’t ride far, maybe a quarter or so mile from my city. We break through a line in the trees and I gasp - an entire camp has been built, complete with walls, tents, cooks, all of it. The soldiers by the wall call out and the gates creak open, General Acacius riding through the opening, glancing back once to make sure I’m following. We wind through the camp to where the horses are kept. He hops down from his chestnut mount and offers me his hand to help me down from Caius. I hesitate a moment before linking my hand with his and slide off of my horse. General Acacius nods to a young man and hands him the reigns to his horse, motioning to me to do the same. 

“I promise they will take good care of him.” 

I give Caius a pat on his head and hand the reigns to the boy, who leads both horses off towards the makeshift stable area. 

“Follow me,” The General commands and I comply, my sandals squishing in the mud as I go. We arrive at a grand tent, some soldiers stationed outside, one of which holds open a flap to allow General Acacius inside. He motions for me to follow and I do, feeling the tent flap close behind me. The tent is just as large as it appears. One side has a table with maps on it with little pins placed all over it. There are some traveling chests, which I assume house either weapons or other clothing or armor. On the other side of the tent is a room divider, behind which is a mattress and a small area for changing. A loud clank snaps me back to my reality and I see The General lay a sword on another table, this one set closer to his sleeping area. He removes his bracers as well, rubbing his wrists after he does so, glancing up at me.

“I will instruct my men to not touch you, but I would advise you stick to my tent.”

“I- yes. I understand, General.”

He barks out a name and I jump, the volume catching me off guard. A man enters the tent and salutes.

“Sir?”

“Fetch me some bath water for my…guest.”

“Yes, sir.” The tent flap closes behind the man as he goes off to bring the bath water.

There are a few moments of silence where he watches me, his eyes quickly glancing down my body and back up. “You can leave your belongings here.” He walks over to the divider and motions for me to follow. He points to a small crate in the corner. “You can set your bag here. I have some space in a chest for your things when we pack tomorrow.”

“Oh. Thank you, sir.”

He’s so close now, I could reach out and touch him. I want to, his greying curls and dark eyes heating me in ways I didn’t know possible. He blinks, shaking his head slightly.

“I will have them make you a sleeping mat, but you may not get it for a bit. You can take mine and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Absolutely not.”

He cocks his head slightly to the side, curious at this woman who would say no to him. “Excuse me?”

I clear my throat. “I won’t have the general of Rome sleeping on the floor. I can do that.”

“But, you are my guest, and a woman. I can’t allow you to do that.”

“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to share.” The words come out of my mouth before I can think. He fights back a small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“You would share a bed with a man who is not your husband?”

“My husband has been dead for many years. And not just any man. The man who saved my life.”

He watches me still, his eyes softening but somehow dark. He reaches out, hesitating a moment before gripping my upper arm. “I am sorry for your loss….well, if you insist, I promise to be respectful until we can get you your own mat.”

I speak quietly. “When I get my own mat, then you’ll be disrespectful?” I don’t intend for him to hear, but sometimes my inner thoughts become outer ones. His eyes meet mine and he opens his mouth to speak, but then several men enter with a tub full of water and the moment passes, General Acacius holding my gaze for a moment longer before dismissing the men. He pulls over another room divider and places it in front of the bathtub, gesturing towards it. “This is for you. I’ll personally stand outside to make sure no one enters.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

I take my time bathing, knowing that it may be a moment before I’m able to again. The water is cool when I emerge, wrapping a blanket around me and wringing out my hair. I pull on a clean tunic and sit on the sleeping mat, grateful that I’d packed a brush. The General returns a few minutes later, poking his head around the corner. 

“Oh. I assumed you would be asleep.”

“Almost. I won’t take up too much space.”

He waves his hand. “I am not worried.” He shuffles around, grabs some tunics from a chest, and disappears, reappearing later with wet hair that has started to curl, in a fresh tunic, sans armor. He gets on the mat beside me, trying his best with his broad frame to give me space.  

“General Acacius, it’s ok. Take as much space as you need. Tell me if you need more. Whatever you want, I will give it.”

He shifts a bit longer. “You are fine. Breakfast will be brought to us in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, General.” I settle into my spot, trying to take up as little space as possible. It’s quiet, quieter than I thought a camp would be. 

“Thank you,” I whisper to him in the dark. I know he doesn’t hear me, but I wanted to say it anyway.

“You’re welcome,” a whisper back. I smile, knowing that I at least made some sort of headway into us getting to know each other. I meant what I’d said before -I will be loyal and go wherever he wants me. Do whatever he needs me to do. I owe him my life. 

It’s early when I wake, I can tell by the quietness of the camp. Slowly, I become aware of my immediate surroundings, remembering the events of the previous day. It’s then I feel something heavy draped across my waist. I crack an eye open and look down, seeing The General’s arm casually slung across me. His breaths puff out on my neck and I can tell he’s in a deep sleep. But then he shifts and..oh. 

He’s hard and pressed against my ass, pushing against me slightly in his sleep to relieve some of the pressure. It’s been so long since I’ve had any interaction this way, let alone with someone I’m attracted to. I’m torn as to what to do. If I wake him, I don’t want him to be embarrassed. If he needs me in that way, I will happily consent. Beg for it, even. But I don’t want to be presumptuous either and take advantage of him, even if it’s just to feel his warm, protective presence. My body seems to make the decision for me, my hips grinding back on their own accord. A few seconds goes by before his hand moves and he grips my hip, his fingers digging into my skin.

“You need to stop moving.”

My cheeks heat instantly and I’m relieved he can’t see my face. “O-oh. I’m sorry if I was bothering you.”

“Not bothering me. I am trying to be respectful and you’re making it…difficult.”

“Who says you need to be respectful?”

His fingers dig in tighter and I inhale sharply, the sensation going straight between my legs. He presses himself closer to me, which heats me up more. He stays like that for several moments, his breaths fanning out over the side of my neck. But then he pulls away and sits up, my back feeling cold with his absence. 

“No. I cannot ask that of you.”

I sit up too, turning to face him. “You would not be taking advantage. I meant what I said - I am yours in whatever way you need me. I will follow you wherever you want me.”

His eyes find mine, deep and dark, as he contemplates my words. He opens his mouth to speak but then the tent flap opens and a man calls out that breakfast is ready. The General’s mouth slams shut and his expression changes. “Place it on the table.” The man complies and the tent flap closes again.

He gently places his hand over mine. “Come. Let’s eat.”

The Roman troops are impressive. 

That day, they pack up the entire camp and start the long trek towards our next destination, which is at least several days worth of traveling by land. And every night they build an entirely new camp that looks identical to the one they had outside of my city. It’s mind boggling.

Ever since our first night, The General tries harder to keep a respectful distance from me, not wanting me to feel pressured or obligated to do anything. He keeps me close though, always keeping an eye on me to make sure I’m safe. A week goes by and we’re in his tent, him pouring over maps and moving the little pieces and pins, me reading a book that he pulled from one of his chests. A soldier enters the tent with a tray of food and the General motions to his side table. The soldier leaves and I close my book, watching General Acacius for a few minutes, his brow furrowed in concentration as he stares at his board, a single curl falling forward onto his forehead. I quietly get up and cross the space to him, gently squeezing his arm. 

“Hey. Come eat.”

He blinks and looks down at me, heaving a big sigh. “You’re right. I need a break.” He follows me back to the table and sits, starting to eat some of the cooked meat the men had brought in. 

“Have you thought about what you want to do once we capture the next city?” He takes a bite out of the meat and watches me as he chews.

“Are you asking me to leave?”

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Damn I want to lick it. “War is no place for a lady.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He studies me for a moment. “You may do what you want. I told you you are free.”

“And I told you that I will follow you.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“You saved my life.”

“You do not wish to get married?”

I shrug. “I was married before. But I am not objecting to marrying again. To the right person.”

He takes another bite of meat and thoroughly chews it before speaking. “What happened to him? Your husband. You mentioned his passing before.”

I’m honestly surprised he hadn’t asked before. We had started having little talks at meals, but it wasn’t about anything heavy. 

“Remus was a kind man. He was the eldest son of the wealthiest merchant in our city. My father arranged our marriage to unite our houses. He was wealthy and had his own estate. We married and I moved in with him. I…suppose I loved him, in a content way. Like I said, Remus was kind, despite his hard exterior with his business dealings. He made sure I had everything I wanted. He had bought me Caius when he was just a foal. However, a few months after we were wed, he was called to the army. He left, proud to serve his people, despite his family begging him not to go. He never returned.” I take a sip from my mug, giving myself a moment to gather myself. “It was..hard, after he had passed. We had not really had a chance to have children. His family returned me to my family after a grieving period. I was allowed to keep Caius only because he had formed such a fierce attachment to me, along with some trinkets and clothes. Honestly, Remus would’ve been appalled at the way his family moved me from the estate. Anyway, I moved back in with my father and brother. A few years later, my father became ill and passed away, leaving me to my brother, Cato. He was abusive, verbally and physically. But I had nowhere to go. I dreamt every day that someone would come to take me away from him. But he always reminded me that no one would want someone who was used and old.” I shrug, taking another sip before meeting his eyes. “When I say you saved my life, I mean it. I am not simply in your debt. I want to be here.” He watches me for several moments, his jaw ticking as he fiddles with his mug. He sits up and leans forward, placing his large hand over mine.  

“I am sorry you had to endure all of that tragedy.”

“Thank you, General.”

“Marcus. Call me Marcus.”

My stomach flutters. “Marcus. Thank you.”

We’re back in the saddle the next day, me on Caius and him on his beautiful chestnut horse, Augustus. He has been softer with me since I told him my story, chatting and making jokes. He’s still respectful, never wanting to push a boundary. One that he set himself, I might add. Another camp goes up, this one built a little differently. There are more wood cabins instead of tents and Marcus explains that we may be here more than a night or two. We eventually settle into our bed, another mattress somehow never appearing for me. Not that I’m reminding anyone.

“We ride out in the morning. I want you to stay in this cabin, do you understand?”

“Y-yeah. Yes. Of course.”

He turns to me on his side, his eyes on me in the dimly lit space as I roll to look at him. He speaks quietly, but firm and I think I can make out worry in his eyes.

“I will have Caius ready and waiting for you outside. If you hear any soldiers, you take him and you ride. You run, do you understand me?”

“Yes, but what about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. You get to safety. That is your priority. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but-”

In an unexpected move, he reaches out and cups my cheek, his eyes on mine. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

I place my hand over his. “I promise.”

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[therealcocoshady]

I also had an idea kind of similar to the arranged marriage plot maybe someone sets them up on a blind date… he keeps saying no but the person playing Cupid is very persistent and he ends up feeling obligated to go (idk, just a thought)

Oh, I actually had an thought about something similar to this, a while ago - please don’t mind me, I literally wrote this thing in less than 30 minutes and didn’t proofread. I just wrote it so that you’d get the idea.

After years of frustration with women and trust issues, Marshall has made peace with the fact that he’s going to end up alone. Even his friends have stopped trying to set him up on dates. Sure, they’d like to see him thrive in a relationship, and they can see how lonely he is, sometimes, but they also know he’s complicated. So they leave him alone on the topic. So he dedicates to his work and his role as a father.

And ironically enough, his girls are the only people that could get him to go out of his comfort zone. One of them is still in college, studying psychology. She has to do an assignment for one of her classes and she is searching for volunteers for an experiment on dating and relationships. The design is pretty simple : people sign up, fill some forms and answer questions. Then, an algorithm pairs them up for maximum compatibility and they have to go on a date, during which they will have to answer the famous 36 questions designed to make them fall in love. His daughter is a bit behind on work and she has to find one more volunteer. She doesn’t even believe in this whole thing, she just wants to pass the class. So she begs Marshall, who refuses at first. Because A) he doesn’t date and B) even if he did, he wouldn’t take part in an experiment, much less one involving his daughter in his romantic life. But she’s really desperate and she assures him that the whole thing is anonymous and clinical. « Please, Dad, it’ll take twenty minutes of your time. And who knows if they’ll even pair you with anyone for the date. I just need to pass the class and graduate. You’re the one who always insisted on me getting higher education ! ». Of course, he caves in. Because he did sacrifice a lot for his babies to go to college, and he’ll be damned if his daughter fails the class because of him. Plus, the people in charge of the experiment will probably see his answers and figure he’s a lost cause. Even science wouldn’t find a good match for him, right ?

Except that it does. Weeks later, he receives an email, informing him that he’s been selected for the second step of the experiment and that they’ve found him a match with 95% compatibility. At first, he figures he won’t go. With his luck, they paired him with another fifty-something man who’s just as lonely. No way this could be a woman. Not with the stoic and sarcastic answers he typed in the form. The email doesn’t even specify who they paired him with. They just ask if he’d be available for a date in two weeks time. Basically, it’s having coffee with the other person, answering the 36 questions unrecorded and then filling another form to describe the experience and say if yes or no they feel attracted to the other person and would consider actually dating them. He figures that, even though it’s anonymous, his daughter’s team wouldn’t have the data if he bails and he’ll be damned if his precious daughter doesn’t get her degree because of him. Of course he’ll bite the bullet and go on that stupid coffee date. Even if he’s paired with a 53 year-old name George.

But as it turns out, his date is not 53 year-old George. It’s you. You and your charming smile. You who agreed to take part in the whole thing because your little sister, his daughter’s teammate, begged you at the last minute. God, these college students need to learn how to do things in time and not to involve their family in their cringy psych classes experiment. You don’t even want to do this whole thing but when a charming man shows up, you can’t help but smile and introduce yourself, extending a polite handshake to greet him. He doesn’t seem too at ease in that little café, which you find odd because it’s actually quite lovely. Also, you swear you’ve seen him somewhere, but it’s Detroit and he’s a brown-haired, bearded, middle-aged man in jeans and a hoodie. Pretty generic. You’re not exactly surprised to have been paired up with someone older than you. You’ve always been told you’re an old soul, so of course « science » (or whatever software they used to compile data) would figure out that your perfect match is almost twenty years older. Anyway, you’re not really here for a date. You’re here for your sister to finally graduate. And you’re not one to refuse free Chai latte.

So the two of you exchange a few pleasantries, introduce yourselves and get to these 36 questions. You tell each other who you could have dinner with if you could choose anyone in the world, whether or not you have a secret hunch about how you will die… as it turns out, the thing is cleverly designed. The questions are increasingly personal and both of you end up sharing personal details, things you most definitely wouldn’t think of sharing with a stranger you were more or less randomly paired up with. By the time you reach the last question, you are looking into each other’s eyes, giving your undivided attention, leaning in. When you arrived, you were strangers but by the end of the date, you feel like you really know each other. More than some people you’ve known your whole life. And by the time it ends, you’ve had the time to notice how charming the wrinkles around eyes are, and you don’t find it too unsettling that he blinks a bit faster than most people you know. As for him, he hasn’t failed to notice that little birthmark near your eye, and the way your mouth twitches when you’re trying to think of the adequate word to answer one of the questions. You don’t know each other’s favorite color or the name of your first pet, but both know when the other last cried in front of someone else and by themselves and why. 36 questions and a cup of coffee later, and you’re not really strangers. You actually had a pleasant time. Too bad you reached the end of the questionnaire and it’s time to go. Too bad he doesn’t offer to take your number and call you. Too bad you’re too demure to ask for his. You wouldn’t have minded actually going out with him. Maybe even discuss that movie he mentioned in passing and thinks you’d like.

The two of you share a hug goodbye and agree that it was fun. You wish him well for his daughter’s wedding he told you he’s busy planning and he wishes you luck for that job interview you said you were nervous about. When you go home and it’s time to answer that final set of questions, saying how you feel about the experiment, you actually give the whole thing a solid 8/10. And when you’re asked if you’d actually date the person you met for coffee, you tick « yes » faster than you’ve ticked any box. You do the same when it asks you if you’d consent to the other person being given your contact info.

Weeks later, Marshall is ecstatic when his daughter tells him she got a good grade for that psych class and that she’ll be graduating with honors. He’s proud as can be. She thanks him profusely for helping her. « I know it’s a stupid thing. But hey, there are a few people who reported they had a good time. Who knows ? Maybe I helped someone find love. ». She has absolutely no idea that he is one of the people who asked for the other person’s contact info as soon as they were given the possibility. She doesn’t know he’s been on four more dates with you. People have been so used to him being single that it didn’t even cross his daughter’s mind. Not even when he mentioned he missed the last Lions’ game, which never happens. But she definitely gets a hunch when he attends her graduation ceremony and sees him smile to that beautiful lady who’s attending her graduation ceremony and came to greet him. « Oh, that’s my sister speaking with your dad ! », her friend says. « I convinced her to do the experiment and she told me she met someone charming. Can you believe it ?! ».

[karaaaak]

Look, idk why, but ada gives me like neglected child vibes. Like the type of kid what would do anything so that their parent noticed them. Gave them a shred of their attention.

Don’t take my word on this, I can’t actually look up things abt this bc I have no WiFi rn.. this was written on a note at 4am okay.

Buttt, you can see my vision right? Like a small Ike child, that is Ada (which is just cute to imagine. Like I would die for art if them younger, official or not idc), going to extremes for attention for her parents. Whether that be purposely getting hurt, starting fights, making up things, going above and beyond to do everything right plus a little more, etc.

Maybe overtime she realized it was a lost cause and turned to external validation, like men for example. Men like Thomas (or Mr Tamerlane. I call him Thomas simple because I fucking hate him and I’m not calling him by Tamerlane).

Side note since I’m kinda talking abt families. This will probably end up a separate post in the future if I don’t come up with something against it

Also CW for abuse, since I am talking abt Pluto

Due to the Edgar Allen Pluto story the Pluto is based on, The Black Cat. I personally believe that Pluto has many other siblings.

I think that because in the story, The Black Cat, the narrator (which is the character plutos dad was based on), has many pet. His favorite of the pets being his black cat, Pluto. Overtime the Narrator becomes and alcoholic. He begins abusing his pets. For a long while he avoids hurting Pluto, since he is his favorite. But once night when he comes home from drinking Pluto scratches his leg, and in a drunken rage his cuts the cats eye out.

Much, much more happens in the story but that’s the part I’m focusing on.

Also adding kinda to this. After that incident in the story Pluto, the black cat, begins to avoid the narrator. Clinging onto the narrator wife (yes for some reason the narrator has a wife still. Even after murdering animals, honestly poor girl. She gets killed too btw..). I point this out bc it was odd to me that Plutos (nevermore Pluto) response to fear is to cling onto somebody for comfort. Most of the time this ends up being Duke, since he’s normally closer to him and trusts him. But I’m sure he does this with multiple people (I can’t think of them off the top of my head rn). This fear response could be because pre-death Pluto would do the same to his mother. He would come to her for safety and/or comfort.

(Side note in the side note. Later in The Black Cat, if I’m remembering correctly, I’ll have to fact check in the morning. The fact the cat, Pluto, starts constantly hanging around his wife, upsets the narrator. I think that’s is one of the reason that led him to killing the cat)

Anyway this post has been way too long, and I don’t think that “side note” is rlly a side note anymore. Anywho, as I say in all of my long posts like this. If you have any feedback, catch any mistakes, have tips for how I can improve my writing. Genuinely please do tell, whether that be through a reblog, comment, etc. I look at all my notifications so I highly doubt it will go unnoticed. If you like my long writings like this (which if you do, literally thank you so much 😭) then idk, maybe I’ll post more of these. If there’s anything you have questions abt, want be to try any cover (god that sounds like way to professional. I’m talking like I’m well know lmao) then do tell me! I love love reading people thoughts. Like it makes my whole day.

Well, that’s all I’ve got to say for now! I’ll post this in the morning and see if the algorithm picks it up. Thank you so so much for reading!

[melleberry]

PLEASE READ TO HELP A DISABLED QUEER ARTIST IN A BAD SITUATION.

I've been posting my art online since 2004. Unfortunately, due to mental illness, stress, symptomatic skill decay, and chronic pain, my work has had slow progress and even slower recognition. I've never been able to break past more than a couple hundred followers except on platforms where one or two non-art posts gained traction.

I'm in my 30s, and I've lost multiple jobs due to my illnesses. I'm trying to find a long-term solution, but I can't even find a temp job. My back pain has gotten so bad I can barely move-- It's complicated, but I'm currently stuck in a very abusive living situation and have to hop between two households bi-weekly just to survive. I have bills to pay, a beautiful tuxedo cat to feed and care for, groceries, monthly expenses, my phone even got turned off this month.

Obviously, I'm grateful for those who have helped me. But every time I post about needing help, it either gets suppressed by the algorithm, or it gets plenty of notes, with no results. I've been barely half active on tumblr since the spice ban, I've moved from Deviantart, to here, to Twitter and Instagram, to Tiktok, and sometimes bluesky. Now, most of these platforms make it impossible to gain any traction as an artist.

So I'm asking, please, whatever you can do-- share, reblog, like, a dollar, every little bit helps. I need at least 500$ to try and cover my bills, and I already have a stack of commissions I need to finish. I'm putting all my links under this post. You can also follow me on all my platforms, linked in my bio card! Thank you for reading!

[teary-blues]

I love the way it looks

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Porridge for— you guessed it— A Bashful Captain (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: After hearing the shocking news that Gepard is sick, Serval entrusts you with the task of making sure he doesn’t burn himself out while no one is watching. Good luck with that.

▸ Genre(s): fluff

▸ Word Count: 5k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions

A/N: I’ve been struggling to get my posts to show in the tags, so let me know if you want to be taglisted! It’s really demotivating seeing my work get demolished by the algorithm.

MASTERLIST

How nice it was to have a moment of respite after a long and arduous campaign.

At least, that’s what the captain wished he could say.

Every muscle in his body seemed to be screaming at him to stay in bed after he woke up that morning. His throat felt like it had been scraped with steel wool and then some. Plus, his body felt chilled, even after piling far more than the usual number of blankets on his bed.

“Don’t overexert yourself,” Serval had said. Aeons, she was right.

Gepard vaguely registered the fact that this combination of symptoms spelled disaster, but nevertheless, he had to get up. He drew in a deep breath in an attempt to gather the strength to hoist himself out of bed, but the air seemed to have invisible barbed wire that scoured his already painful lungs. He broke into a hacking cough that echoed throughout the estate and immediately sat up to cover his mouth with his elbow.

A knock on the door drew him out of his misgivings.

“Young master Gepard?” A concerned voice— which belonged to one of the maids— called.

Although the captain felt like his stomach was churning like butter, he shifted the blankets aside and treaded towards the door. Even the estate felt dreary that morning as the sunlight reaching through the window was weak and scattered (Due to a thick cloud covering, indicating an impending snowstorm.) The expensive plush carpet on the floor of the room did little to ease his newfound dislike of standing upright.

How silly he felt, a man who trudged through waist-deep snow on the daily, was now reduced to a sniveling mess in his family home. Gepard, still rubbing his nose, opened the wooden door slightly.

The shock on the maid’s face was evident as she caught her first glimpse of him. He really did look worse for wear, his golden hair was unkempt, his complexion was pale, and he had to lean on the doorframe to keep the room from swaying and bending inwards and—

“Um— young master. I heard you coughing,” she blurted out, eyeing his drooping eyelids. “Would you like me to fetch you a glass of water?”

Gepard raised his voice to respond but instead let out a ghastly wheeze followed by coughing that sounded like thunder. He turned his head away so as not to catch her in the blast.

“Y-yes, please,” He resumed looking at her. “That would be much appreciated,”

His voice was uncomfortably hoarse. She glanced up at him. “Would you like it with lemon or without?”

The young man didn’t get a chance to respond. His calloused hand slid down the doorframe, his vision went fuzzy—

—and then everything went dark.

The maid’s shriek echoed off the walls, causing the sparrows that perched on the windowsills to take to the sky.

Her voice turned heads, both maids and butlers alike, all throughout the manor.

(It is said that they still speak about it to this day, much to her chagrin.)

❆ — ❆ — ❆

You were convinced that work was going to give you a heart attack.

With the Solwarm festival upcoming, flower sales practically exploded. Your job as a florist was a source of many joys, but even you had your limits. Your hands were permanently stained with a mix of red and orange from all the Solarflowers you’d been handling. It looked like brilliant flames adorned your arms, but it lost its novelty after you realized you couldn’t wash it off, even with industrial strength soap.

And you had a catch-up with Gepard in three days. Just great.

He’d sent the invitation through a surprise letter a week before he came home. He said he’d be busy for a bit with mission debriefings and yada yada, but he’d like to meet at Serval’s for lunch once he got the chance.

Couldn’t he have just texted me? You snorted when you opened it. Those nobles. (You betted that he’d never gone on a date that was anything other than a fancy matchmaking dinner.)

But then you realized that was dumber than dumb. He wasn’t allowed to have his cell phone on military expeditions. You nearly smacked yourself with the first edition copy of the Gardener’s Almanac in shame.

You cast a mournful, longing glance through the paned glass windows and out at Qlipoth fort. Of course Gepard had ten thousand meetings to attend to after getting home.

A pang of pity reverberated throughout your chest. Didn’t he at least deserve a short break? He was like a herding dog that never got a day off.

You looked up from where your head was resting on the counter, feeling the warmth of a Solarflower bouquet spread across your face almost like a blush. Handing the customer’s change across the counter whilst simultaneously stifling a heartbroken sigh wasn’t much, but it was one of the hardest things you’d done all day.

I am so. Friggin. Tired. You groaned. The overcast weather was really getting to your mood.

A clatter came from the back, which caused you to prick your ears.

“Hey, (Y/N)? The plumbing in the upstairs sink broke. We’re missing the right kind of wrench. Would you mind going out and grabbing it?” Meg spoke.

“Sure,” you perked your eyebrows, eager to escape your thoughts for a split second. “What kind is it?”

Your boss handed you a paper with the details, and you swung your florist’s bag over your shoulder with newfound gusto. A trip to Serval’s workshop was exactly what you needed.

The breeze outside the shop was stagnant. It made you shudder. You couldn’t control the weather, but you could sure as hell skip to the shop to spite the bad hand you’d been dealt recently.

The bronze shop bell dinged to announce your entry. And Serval, the owner of the Neverwinter Workshop, was fast asleep on a pile of papers.

That can’t be comfortable,

“Hey, Serv—,”

She shot up from her desk faster than you could blink.

“Welcome to Neverwinter Workshop! What can I— Oh! (Y/N)! Sorry about that, I just uh… dozed off for a bit,”

You chuckled. “Not a problem. I just came by for an 18x18mm wrench. Would you happen to have one of those?”

Molly, the assistant, peeked her head in from the back. “Only a few hundred of them,”

You stared back, flabbergasted. “Why so many?”

“Miss Serval put an extra zero on the order form,” she said with a shrug.

Serval looked at you sheepishly, her blue eyes filled to the brim with embarrassment. You shot her a glance loaded with concern.

“Have you been getting enough rest?” You inquired.

“Yeah, totally! Well… The band and I have been pretty busy with rehearsal lately. Y’know, with the Solwarm festival coming up and all—,” She waved a hand in the air dismissively. “—anyways, the person who’s case you should REALLY be on is Gepard’s,”

You lifted an eyebrow at her attempt to deflect the blame. “Yeah? And why is that?”

She paused, not paying you the slightest crumb of attention before she let out an planet-shaking yawn.

“Huh? Oh, he’s sick. Real nasty case. He got it from Pela,”

“Jeez. Seriously?” You exclaimed. “That sucks. I hope he gets better soon,”

She blinked slowly and tiredly. “Yeah, yeah. We do too. He actually passed out this morning,”

Your eyes went wide.

“He WHAT???”

“Ah, well, he passed—,”

“Nope, nope, nope. I got it,” you said, rubbing your temples while staring at the floor. “Holy crap. It must be really bad then. Did he have to go to the hospital?”

Serval shook her head. “Nope, thank Qlipoth. Lynx has had to crash here so she doesn’t catch it,”

You glanced around the workshop. “She has? Where is she?”

Your friend pointed at a stack of cardboard boxes stacked beside a shelf.

“Right there,”

And clear as day, you spotted the white tufts of fur from Lynx’s hat sticking out of her sleeping bag.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

“Okay… So, let me get this straight. Gepard returned home and promptly passed out,” You gripped the edge of the reception desk so hard you thought it might splinter. “Is anyone keeping him from going to the meetings or… anything?”

“Well, yeah. He knows well enough not to spread his sickness around. What I can’t say for sure though is that he’s not forcing himself to do paperwork… and stuff,” Serval hummed to herself, sorting through another stack of papers that had been rearranged from her catnap.

You let out a withering sigh. “Someone’s gotta stop him,”

Picking up your phone, you hurriedly dialed his number. After far too many seconds, you flopped helplessly onto the desk. No answer.

“Ugh. Can’t we like… call Dunn or the household or something?” You said weakly.

“I thiiink you may be blowing this one out of proportion,” she grinned, showing her pointy canines. “Why don’t you stop by if you miss him so much? You can knock some sense into him or whatever,”

She smirked as she saw embarrassment seep into your face.

Aha! So you DO miss him,

“Yeah, if warp trotters fly, maybe,” you tried to hide your expression by running a palm over your face. “I can’t just show up unannounced,”

“You sure can! I do it all the time,” she said cheerfully. “Usually when the man of the house isn’t there, though,” A look of distaste flashed in her eyes.

“The head butler has a good memory. He should remember you. Say I sent you—,” she perked up. “Oh! Here, I’ll write you a note,”

The blonde-haired woman yanked open a wooden drawer with an ear-piercing screech and lifted a notepad and pen out from its confines. She scrawled something out quickly.

“This should do,”

You squinted at the note skeptically.

I hereby authorize (Y/N), a friend of Gepard’s, to check up on him and make sure he isn’t working himself to death,

Signed,

Serval

[A strange doodle of a smiling face holding up a peace sign]

“Now go!” She shouted, practically pushing you out the door. “Go, go, go! You got this!”

“What—? Serval, I can’t—,”

“Yes you can! Call me if they don’t let you in. Rock on!”

She dropped you unceremoniously on the stone steps outside and slammed the door.

“Cheers!” Her muffled voice called.

I really should become a matchmaker, she snickered to herself.

You looked at the note once more and wilted.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Gepard’s residence was… exactly the same all the other times you had gone, maids and all.

It was still plenty overwhelming though. You brushed the wrinkles out of your tunic as you waited for someone to answer the door. It wasted no time swinging open with a force that could’ve flattened someone, had they been standing behind it.

You nearly squawked in fear. Didn’t these people know how to open a door normally?

While gripping your messenger bag, filled with a few things you had brought from home, you requested entry from the broad-shouldered man that answered. You had no trouble keeping your voice steady but your chest felt like it was being crushed under a metal boot as you faced him.

“Ah, yes. Anything for a friend of the young master!” The butler smiled warmly at you. He didn’t show any sign that he had picked up on your nervousness. Hah, you didn’t think you’d ever get over all these pairs of eyes on you each time you came.

But wait— a friend? Hadn’t you told them each and every visit that you were a gardener he hired?

You bit the edge of your lip but kept your mouth shut.

He motioned you inside. “He’s been resting. Please, let us walk you up!”

You kept your eyes trained on the velvet carpet draped on the stairs as you followed him up. The floorboards squeaked softly under your soles.

When you got upstairs, the curly-haired man stopped in front of a particular door. “Just go on in,” he instructed.

You thanked him and rapped on the door lightly.

“Gepard?”

He looked up from his paperwork hurriedly from where it was bent over the desk to the source of your voice.

“It’s me. Serval sent me over to check if you were doing alright,” you said, leaning your head closer to the wood.

Gepard’s brows knitted together.

If she really wanted to, she could have busted my door down like last time.

He switched off the lamp and got out of his chair.

You heard a croak that sounded like “coming” and winced away from the door. Eek. He must be in really bad shape.

The door opened, causing a breeze to hit your face. After not seeing his face for a month, this wasn’t how you expected your first meeting to go.

By Qlipoth’s grace—, you clapped your hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from saying it out loud.

Gepard’s hair was messy and his cheeks were crimson. Locks of his golden hair covered his eyes, which were puffy and red. Better yet, he was wearing a matching set of blue and white striped pajamas. You nearly gawked. At least he wasn’t wearing his uniform if he wasn’t working.

He took in a quick breath to greet you but a harsh bout of coughing cut him off. Turning away from the door, he hacked into his elbow and tried to shut it.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you wedged your buckled boot into the space between the door and the frame. That swift action shocked him out of his coughing fit.

“A-apologies, I wasn’t expecting a visit. Please step away before I give you my illness,”

“Oh! That’s why you shut the door,” Your mouth went wide. “I thought you knew the real reason why I came!”

His eyes went wide as you used your forearm to force the door open wider, a vaguely threatening gesture.

What real reason?

“Forget what I just said,” you grinned while sauntering into the room. “Anyways, my immune system is great! I used to eat dirt when food was scarce in the Underworld. It’ll take a lot more than a cold to kill me,”

“Oh my. Is— is that so?” Gepard cleared his throat, forming a fist over his mouth. He followed a few steps behind you as you went about the room.

“Yessir. I came to say hi! Nothing more. Definitely not,” You chirped, looking around his quarters (not at all suspiciously, by the way.) “How are you feeling?”

Wait, didn’t you say Serval—?

He didn’t get to finish that thought.

“Well— all right, I suppose. A little lightheaded and feverish,” his eyes trailed your form moving about. “I took some medicine earlier, and my condition has improved some. Nothing a little rest won’t fix,”

You nodded, not sparing him a glance. “Yes. Rest. Glad to see we’re on the same page here, Gepard. Hey— you moved your bamboo plant in here!” You spotted a joyful little green plant in a pot on top of his desk.

He gave you a puzzled look. Your behavior was…strange, to say the least.

“Ah, yes. I moved it because—,”

—it reminded me of you, he narrowly stopped himself from saying.

“—I read that bamboo didn’t need as much light as I was giving it, so, I figured it would be fine if I transferred it,”

You bent your knees a little to take a closer look at it. “I see. The soil looks nice. Mind if I turn on the light to take a closer look?”

“Be my guest,”

You rotated the little key that controlled the lamplight. It flicked on, spreading a warm glow onto the books and papers on the desk. A glint reflected off a dollop of ink resting on a half-written paper.

You froze. That ink is fresh.

Bristling indignantly, you whisked your head towards him. He picked up the change in mood immediately and blanched.

“I thought you said you’d been resting,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I have,” He paused, confused. “Well—,”

“AHA!” You shouted. “I gotcha! This ink is fresh, Captain. Don’t think you can fool me,” You said triumphantly, placing your hands on your hips.

“Serval— she did send you, didn’t she?!” He sputtered. The usual stoic captain was nowhere to be seen as he rubbed the back of his neck in shame.

“Yes. She did. But also I would’ve come either way to make sure you weren’t wearing yourself out,” you snorted playfully. “She said it was highly likely you were doing paperwork. And paperwork IS. NOT. REST.” You shook a finger at him accusingly.

Gepard flinched slightly. “I’m not exerting myself physically, so there’s no need to worry, (Y/N). Really,”

The air around you seemed to grow dark. You cracked your knuckles, staring him straight in the face.

“Sit down. Now,”

He obliged, choosing to plunk down on his bed.

“I know it feels like you’re wasting time doing nothing, but your mind needs to recover too,” you shook your head disapprovingly while giving him an exaggerated sigh. “You should know that,”

You pulled up a chair in front of him and took a seat, facing the window so he was looking at your side profile.

“I don’t care if you’re the most capable man on Jarilo-VI—,”

—and it was pretty likely that he was,

“You need time to rest, just like everyone else,” you lectured, opening one eye to peer at him teasingly.

“Right,” Gepard replied, defeated. He had nothing against you.

“Did you even wear the scarf I gave you out there?”

“I did, but I didn’t want to dirty it,” he replied. You gave him a snort, which quickly turned into laughter.

“Aww. That’s thoughtful of you,” you flashed him a smile. “I made it knowing I might have to make you another one though. Or three. Just let me know if it gets too damaged to wear, okay?”

Gepard looked down at his striped pajama pants, a small smile crossing his features. “Thank you. I appreciate it,”

His chest almost hurt with all the things he wanted to say trying to fight their way out.

“No problem. If anything, you deserve it,” you sang. “On the other hand, have you eaten anything today?”

“I haven’t,” he rested his head on his chin. “I don’t seem to have an appetite, unfortunately,”

“I see. You should get something in ya though. Natasha told me your body could use the energy,” you stated knowledgeably.

He tried in vain to stamp down the feelings in his chest that sprouted from seeing your concerned expression.

For him. You cared about him.

Aeons, he didn’t deserve this.

“You can ask the cooks to make you some porridge or something,” you suggested. “I have some instant stuff, but it might not be to your liking,”

“I’m sure yours will be fine,” he rebutted quickly. “I’d be happy to eat it,”

You looked at him disbelievingly. I’ve never seen someone so determined to eat instant porridge,

His face stayed just how it was, his eyebrows weighing heavily on his eyes, just like twin anvils.

“Yeah, ok,” you let up. “Do you have a kettle or anything close by?”

“I believe there is one in the kitchen that they use for tea. You can ask the maids to retrieve it for you,” he motioned to the left.

You shook your head and got up. What use was it to call a maid for a trip that merely entailed going up and down the stairs? (Well, there were a stupid number of stairs, but that’s a whole other issue).

Kettle, bowl, spoon, and cloth napkin in hand, you bolted back upstairs to your patient. You plugged the kettle in and set it down on a towel so the heat didn’t damage the furniture.

Tapping your feet while you waited for the kettle to boil, you took a quick glance around the room. It told you a lot you needed to know about Gepard.

Firstly, he was relatively neat. Of course the areas of high traffic, like the bookshelves and the desk, were messier, but they hadn’t more than a few specks of dust on them. His uniform was hanging off of a dark oak armoire, and his military medals were pinned on a cork board attached to its door.

Secondly, there were quite a few pictures hanging on the walls. There were a few of him at awards ceremonies, at various ages. And one of him as a cadet— and wow— he was pretty short back then. He stood almost a whole head shorter than the other guards. You almost squealed with delight.

You turned back to him, noticing his eyes were glued to where you were staring. Oops.

You hurriedly apologized for staring so conspicuously at the photographs, but he shook his head at the statement. Photos were meant to be looked at, after all.

This quickly led to a slew of questions he wasn’t expecting, such as “How old were you when you joined the Guards?” And “Did Serval ever threaten to bench press you?”.

He almost laughed at that one. Probably. His nose wrinkled a little. Or whatever. You figured he’d finally laugh for real once the moons collided with Jarilo-VI.

The kettle began to whistle.

“Ah, water’s boiling,” you said, turning towards the outlet where it was plugged in.

Gepard had since settled down in bed, pulling the covers over his waist. You poured the piping hot water into the bowl carefully, the steam forming curls in the air, and covered it with a lid.

After a few minutes had passed, you set the bowl on a library book from your bag (Eek. Bad idea.) as a makeshift tray and stuck a spoon in it.

“Voilà. Enjoy!” You flung your arms in the air ostentatiously as he looked onward.

Gepard took a spoonful and blew on it gingerly. You watched him with an expectant look on your face. Although whether you were expecting something good or bad, you didn’t quite know.

He lifted it to his mouth and you zeroed in on him even harder.

“It’s delicious,” he said with conviction, meeting your eyes. You squinted at him.

“Um. Gepard, I think the fever is messing with your brain. Are you sure you can taste right now?”

“I’m sure,” he responded.

“No way!” You exclaimed, slapping your forehead. “Let me try— actually, wait. That’s a bad idea,” you sighed. “I’ll just have to believe you,”

The captain nodded affirmatively. He brought another spoonful up to his mouth and relished it, feeling the warmth spread across his tongue. You swore as you watched him savor it contentedly that you’d buy some on your way home to try for yourself.

While Gepard polished off the contents of his bowl, you yammered on about various events that had happened in Belobog while he was away. You had been saving them for when you got together for real, but you figured now was just as good a time as any.

Once he had finished, he rested the spoon on the side of the ceramic bowl.

“Thank you for coming to visit me, (Y/N),” he said gently.

“Someone had to,” you laughed while kicking your feet up. “When I heard you’d been bumbling about all day, I nearly had a heart attack!”

He ran a palm over his face, closing his blue eyes. “Yes— and I’m sorry for that,”

“I didn’t want to believe her, but you guys both have a tendency to push yourself way too hard, you know?”

“By her, you mean Serval?”

You pursed your lips at him.

“That’s how the Landaus are,” he exhaled heavily, letting out a small cough he quickly covered. “It’s… our duty to bring glory to our name, after all,”

You folded your arms. “Maybe by fighting valiantly or repairing automatons, but crawling through paperwork?? I don’t think so. Secretaries that want to help you are a dime a dozen. It’s a lot easier than risking your life in the Snow Plains,” you chortled.

“You’ve probably filled your glory quota for the next two centuries, Gepard,” you glowed. “Bronya and Pela know just how hard you work. You can always ask for help,”

Gepard sighed again. (He did that a lot.) You made a good point.

“I’m sure I’ll recover in no time, thanks to all of you,” he said sincerely. You imitated the sound of an explosion while opening your fist.

“Boom. Magic porridge,”

To your surprise, this elicited a short chuff from Gepard; This caused your breath to get lost somewhere in your throat.

It felt strange seeing him so unguarded in his bedroom with his hair unkempt, in contrast to the well-polished emblem of strength shown on the recruitment posters everywhere in the Administrative District.

You folded your hands over your lap contentedly, silently thanking Serval for clueing you in today. Out of the blue, Gepard spoke up.

“When I recover, would you like to go to the Belobog History and Culture Museum with me?”

That startled you. “Really? I have been wanting to go,” you gnawed on your thumbnail hesitantly. “But are you sure? With all the stuff you have on your plate?”

“Positively,” he replied, his blue eyes capturing all of your attention. You quickly averted your eyes before your circuits overheated. “Volunteers can bring in one guest for free. I… know we haven’t had too many chances to spend time together because we’re both busy, but I figured I’d make an offer anyhow,”

You didn’t catch the last half of that sentence over the sound of a train whistling in your ears.

This should be illegal.

Is he even hearing himself right now?? To— to spend time together?? If I wasn’t super-duper ultra perceptive, I’d think he—,

You clamped your hands on your cheeks (internally, of course) to still yourself, while the rest of you stared straight ahead.

Oh dear,

“Sure!” You blurted out, stiff as a statue.

Smooth, (Y/N).

Fortunately for you, an alert from your phone jostled you out of your internal minefield. You flipped it open while trying to expel far too many thoughts from your mind at once.

It was Serval. You popped into your messages app to see what she had sent— and in true Serval fashion— she had sent the most mind-boggling, disorienting message possible.

From: Serval at 13:44

S: how’s he doing? did u get there alright?

S: ahh you’re probably busy.

S: tuck him in for me, will u?

You nearly spit out your drink. Gepard blinked at you.

You— you can’t just SAY something like that, you cried internally. Not when my feelings are all messed up! I should get out of here before this gets any worse,

“Is something the matter?”

You sighed, long and heavy. “There’s always something, isn’t there?”

He made no move to make any inquiries.

“Anywho, I guess I should take my leave now,” you spoke, reaching down to pick up your messenger bag off the floor and rising from your seat. “before I keep you up any longer. Take it easy, okay?”

“Ah— yes,” he replied, not letting the disappointment leak into his voice. He wondered about the sudden change in mood, but he didn’t want to pry if it would cause you discomfort.

“I’ll… keep that in mind,”

You smiled warmly at him.

“Good,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Even though you had left with the reasoning that you didn’t want to keep him awake, Gepard was anything but tired.

His strict internal clock as a soldier was probably to blame. A sigh echoed throughout the room. It was way too quiet now. And the velvet curtains absorbed any sound too weak to escape them.

He had to do something to keep his mind active. Maybe reading, perhaps? But the only books he had on his bookshelf were on war strategy and history. Both of which were related to his job.

How about drawing?

Now, that didn’t sound too bad.

He got out of bed and picked up a pencil, a spare piece of paper, and the floriography manual you lent him, off of his desk to use as a hard surface. As he settled into his mattress, he peered out the window one last time. He spotted a familiar green beret against the tan limestone bouncing way faster than necessary down the steps leading to the plaza.

A chuckle escaped his lips.

Well, time to get started,

❆ — ❆ — ❆

You sat in the break room of the florist’s, reading the latest edition of Automatons Weekly while waiting patiently for the porridge you had bought from the grocers to finish absorbing the water.

Vaska sat across from you, drinking floral tea while flipping through Tales 2. You’d prepared a bowl of porridge for her as well, just a different flavor. Hers had flecks of green and black in it, and it smelled quite good. Rather savory, in your opinion. The one you had gotten Gepard was the plain kind.

They had a surprising amount of flavors of porridge specifically at the grocers, like cinnamon, coconut, banana, whatever. It was honestly overwhelming. The fact they spent so much time curating the porridge aisle was weird, considering they didn’t have anything worth buying from the Underworld. But nonetheless.

After lifting the lids and seeing that the grains were sufficiently cooked, you both dipped your spoons in and shoveled them in your mouth.

“Blech!” Vaska said, coughing her mouthful into a napkin. “It tastes like soap,” You looked at her wordlessly as you swallowed yours.

You pondered for a moment.

“You know… I think I’ve had dirt more flavorful,” you said, bursting into loud laughter. “And how exactly do you know what soap tastes like?”

Vaska gave you a look loaded with venom.

“Whatever. You up for some cookies?” You shrugged.

She snickered, cracking open the door to the sweets cabinet in response, and fished out a jar of Meg’s famous chocolate brownie cookies.

Well, so much for that plan.

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

💙 THANKS FOR READINF I LOVE YOU 💙

[studyblri]

🐈‍⬛️༉‧˚｡🎓𖤐₊˖°. a lil update ₊ෆ🍙⋆🫧‹𝟹🎧⋆˚✧˖

⊹ I'm done with my last internship!! which means im no longer a student, but now unemployed :DD

⊹ I went to a wedding for the first time in about 7 or 8 years, i think. it was lively! (I took the middle-left picture there.)

⊹ I (unintentionally) lost weight. Around 7-8 kilos since may. i mean, i needed to lose weight and I still do, but the fact that it happened without dieting makes me happy :)

⊹ I’m visiting Germany in September!! I’m sooo excited because the only time i’ve been abroad was for just 4 days, but this time i’ll be there for almost a month!! i’m trying to stay calm, but i’m seriously so excited!!!

⊹ I need a series to binge!! i officially don’t have school starting tomorrow!! it’s impossible to believe lol. i need some dramas to watch… please suggest some ;)) (i also love true crime docuseries!)

⊹ i still have some things to do, though—like graduation and internship paperwork. It’s just paperwork, but the deadlines are important, and there’s a lot of it. So, I still need to focus and get things done. (boo hoo)

⊹ College is over, but I still need to study for language proficiency and master's exams in November. I'll be updating this blog more frequently from now on!!

⊹ I'm starting therapy this month, and this time I'm determined to go through with it. i know it's a bit ironic, being a psychology grad and being scared of therapy :) But i never knew where to start or how to openly face the challenges. Sharing everything with a stranger also feels uneasy :) I still don't feel fully ready for it, but I've decided to cross that bridge when I come to it. I just need to take that first step,,

TL;DR

I’ve closed a chapter in my life now, and I’m already excited for the next phase—my master’s journey. For this summer, I had so many plans, but I couldn’t find the time for most of them :( Now, I’ll focus on relaxing while also staying productive over the next two months. I don’t want to push myself too hard, though, because I haven’t had a vacation longer than one month since 2020!

╰┈➤‎ ‧ ₊ ˚ ✧ [ ♡٭* 🎧💿༘ ⋆๋࣭ ] ✧ ˚ ₊ ‧

For the past two weeks, I’ve been listening to just this album. Thanks to Google’s algorithm, the moment I started listening, my YouTube recommendations were flooded with analysis videos about Tyler, the Creator and IGOR :) He’s truly an amazing artist, and although I don’t have enough knowledge to praise him thoroughly, I can definitely appreciate how impressive this masterpiece is. You’ve probably heard it before, but I hope you’ll click and listen to it from start to finish again when you see this post!

bye!

[independent-fics]

Inde watches “The Rollin’ on the River Job”

Leverage Redemption 1x03

“Hardison had to have a lot of practice before Eliot agreed to open those van doors” yes please missing 12 years lore (or original run lore) either way I love

I kinda love how Sophie just keeps referring to Harry as our Mr Wilson it’s cute. She really working to make him feel included

Oof growing pains with Sophie coming back and Parker being the mastermind

Really love Hardison’s algorithm. Love how he’s still helping them find clients

Ahhhh callbacks to learning it’s not always about the money with clients

“I lost count of my marriages, but I only had one husband” my heart

15 MANUALS WHERE

Sophie being happy to be back on a stage

”I’m Parker” yes you are

“We have to rob the vault” “YES” Parker my beloved she deserves all the vents and vaults 

Brennas “trash bags from couch, couch” the implications there

Telling Sophie to walk off after her “let’s go steal” get her back in the groove hahaha

a con with a flow chart Hardison making those for her and helping her ahhh I love them

“Are you using a flow chart for all your interactions” SO WHAT IF SHE IS and where can I get one

The Mark being upset about not being verified on Twitter goodness, they really thought these guys through 

Goodness, Eliot transitioning into OK I was a cop why is he so dramatic 😭this man closeted theater kid I swear the slight accent and tone change? Man suddenly sounded like he’s been through 40 years on the beat like what

I don’t like the cgi clay birds (idk why it bothers me like it would be cool if they learned ig )

I am not getting enough Parker and Eliot brainstorming moments together

Sophie that pink suit is stunning

Breanna already out and aboutttt

Gahgh nvm already benched

Gah the parallels of the newer team members growing like the originals

Parker’s you don’t like my dress? 🥺(also love that this is kinda mirroring the original run episode 3 bridesmaid dress? In a way)

Eliot bonding over cooking with the other security guard ahhh my heart

Ahhh more leverage friends??? I want all the lore

“It’s a very distinctive- hold on” the writers just couldn’t forget that love it

Ice cave, gorilla enclosure, catered a wedding I love these mentions

“Food sensory experience” Eliot you nerd

Harry’s little thumbs up to Breanna I love this duo

Nooo not Eliot’s new friend

Why they always go for typical Russian names we got Ivan Dimitri then the bodyguard is Jake??

Parker making Eliot smell the money haha I love them

Breanna coming in with the ideal gas law you smartical partical

Awww Eliot helping Dennis still and having game night (and the 7 shirt!!!)

THAT WAS MY CAKE PARKER (I love them so much)

Always trust the person inside the van (ugh Hardison I love your notes)

Ugh yeah Breanna me too about the world and the timeline of my life. I would love to kick it in the junk too.

With the pearl yes Parker!!! My beloved world famous thief

[musings-of-a-rose]

Hi there 🙏 thanks for answer me, you can take your time 😊 I am such a fan of some of your fanfics so I know you can write something for me.

I wasn't really feel comfortable with my body like the usually, so I would really love something about Benny comforting reader about her body issues, something like soft but also smutty.. all the smut you can bring to the table (I read your work so I trust you can do it 😂❤️) it can start softly and then go to the dirty smut... That's all I ask for 🙏.

Take your time of course I'll wait excited ☺️

I'm Really Into You - Part 3

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader "Poppy"

Word Count: 1900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Hi Nonnie! I'm so sorry to make you wait! I hope it's ok, but your ask reminded me of another ask I had received years ago that had 2 parts. So I made this a part 3! I'll have parts 1 and 2 linked below in case you haven't read them. Thank you so much for waiting!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

I’m Really Into You Part 1

I’m Really Into You Part 2

I hate our bi-annual meetings at work. They’re supposed to be “fun team morale building”, but all they do is make me feel like shit. Because, inevitably, someone is going to comment on my weight. “You’ve lost weight!” or “Oh, you look the same!”. I once had someone tell me I looked like I had gained weight. People tend to not have filters when you’re not a size 2. I hit Benny’s speed dial on my phone and he picks up after the second ring.

“Hey sweetheart! You on your way over?” I sigh. “Hey, you ok?”

He always seems to know. “Yeah.”

“Poppy?”

I pause a moment. “Just…people at work suck.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No…yes? I don’t know. Maybe I should just go to my place tonight and we can do dinner tomorrow.”

There’s a pause. “If that’s what you want, sure. But I really want you to come over. I miss you.”

A small smile tugs at my lips. “You just saw me yesterday.”

He lets out an overly dramatic whine. “That was forever ago!”

I can’t help but chuckle, picturing his beautiful face and bright blue eyes with a dramatic pout on his lips. “Ok, ok. I’m coming.”

“Yeah you will.”

“Benny!”

“What? I’m psychic too! I can see your future!”

15 minutes later, I pull into his driveway. I glance in the mirror, patting down my hair a little before saying “Fuck it” and just grabbing my bag and walking to the front door. I barely raise my fist to knock before he opens the door, immediately cupping my face and kissing me. It takes me a second but finally I respond, leaning into his kiss as best I can with my bag in one hand and my travel cup in the other.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Benny pulls back just enough to look at me, his large hands still cupping my face. 

“Hi Benny.”

He drops my face and takes my bag, letting me enter and take off my shoes while he closes and locks the door. He hangs my bag on a hook and I follow him over to the couch, where he has a drink and some snacks already sitting out. I sit and look at the snacks, tears welling in my eyes.

“Hey hey! No, I didn’t get the chips you hate, I promise!”

I smile sadly, the tears starting to fall as I desperately try to choke them back, wiping at my face with my sleeve. “N-no, you’re perfect.”

He places his hand on my leg. “Then what is it? Was it work?” When I don’t answer, a flash of anger crosses his face. “Those fuckers.”

I let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, they mean well. I think? It’s just…nevermind.”

Benny squeezes my leg. “You can tell me anything, Poppy.”

I take a deep breath. I promised myself I would be open with Benny, especially after he bared himself to me, telling me all about his ptsd and his nightmares, his insecurities, all of it. 

“At these big team meetings we have twice a year, I see people I don’t normally see. There’s the usual small talk, but someone almost always talks about my weight. Whether I look like I’ve lost a few pounds, look the same, or even gained weight. Once I had lost about 10 pounds and someone asked if I had gained.” I bury my face in my hands, the tears flowing out. “I’m used to the comments but they still hurt,” my voice is muffled but he hears me. 

Gently, Benny grips my forearms, pulling them away from my face before he cups it, waiting for my eyes to find his. “Fuck them, Poppy. You’re gorgeous.”

That sad smile crosses my face again. “You have to say that since you’re my boyfriend. For some reason.” I didn’t mean to say that last part out loud, but I did. 

“What?” Benny said in disbelief.

“It’s just you’re so-” I gesture at him. “-hot. And I’m just-” I gesture at myself. “-me.”

“Poppy, I have thought you were gorgeous from the moment I laid eyes on you. I wanted all of you. Your curves, your tits, your ass, your eyes, you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I don’t know what I did to deserve you because I’ve definitely done some fucked up shit in my life.”

I open my mouth to reply, but he presses a finger to my lips. “Let me show you.” He replaces his finger with his lips, soft at first, his tongue gently pressing against my mouth. I part my lips and he slides his tongue in, dancing around with my own. He gently presses on my shoulders to get me to lie down on my back and I comply, his lips kissing down my jaw and sucking on a spot on my neck that has me gasping. His fingers deftly undo the buttons on my shirt and he flings it open, his lips starting a path down to my chest. 

“Ooo front open bra!” 

I can’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm, the laugh catching in my throat as he pops open my bra and immediately starts lapping at my chest, tongue swirling around my nipples. He sucks one in his mouth and I groan, pressing my hips up against his, feeling how hard he is in his pants already. He pulls his head back and grabs a boob in each hand, kneading and squeezing them as he brushes his thumb over my peaked nipples.

“These are the best tits I’ve ever seen. And I get to put them in my mouth.” He resumes lapping at them, chuckling darkly when my hips buck up again, a quiet moan all I can manage in response. He pulls the top of my skirt down slightly and starts to move down to my stomach, and this is where I twitch. He knows it’s a sensitive area for me, always self-conscious. But he takes his time, kissing and licking and gripping me, bucking his own hips into the couch. 

“Fuck you are so hot. I love your curves.”

He bunches the edges of my skirt up in his fists, kissing my thighs as he does so. Then he looks up at me, a sparkle in his eyes as he winks, his head disappearing under my skirt. He presses my legs apart more and before I can say anything, he slides my underwear to the side and licks straight up me, my hips bucking into his face. He slides an arm across my lower belly, firmly keeping me in place as he laps at me, his tongue swirling around my clit as I gasp and moan, my hands twisting into the couch cushions as I could not grip his hair. 

“Oh fuck, Benny! There!” He found a spot that makes my leg twitch, massaging it with his tongue for a moment before he slides 2 fingers inside me, immediately curling them and finding that magical spot. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he speaks lowly against my cunt, his voice vibrating through me and I lose it, his name tumbling from my lips in praise as wave after wave of pleasure passes over me. I start to come down, but he doesn’t move, reaffirming his grip on my stomach.

“Not done with you yet,” he mumbles, diving back in, his tongue finding another spot that makes both of my legs twitch this time. I manage to prop myself up enough to look between my legs, his broad shoulders poking out from under my skirt where his head is fully lodged. When he licks against me again I come undone, hips twitching as I cry his name. I come down and he pulls his head out, hair all mussed up, his chin glistening with me, a big stupid smile on his face.

“I want you to think of me between your legs every time you wear this skirt.”

That rushes straight between my legs, despite the last several minutes. “Fuck yeah I will.”

He sits up and reaches over his back, pulling his shirt from himself. I lean up and start to undo his pants, Benny chuckling as he watches me. “Can’t wait, huh?” I shake my head as I pull down his zipper. He pushes my legs wider as I pull down his boxers and lay back, slapping his dick against my overstimulated pussy and I jolt. He grips my knees and pushes them a little more wider, notching himself at my entrance.

“Now I’m going to fuck your gorgeous self into this couch and you’re going to take it like my good girl, right?” I nod furiously. 

He slides himself in with one push of his hips and I cry out, his body laying over mine as he pounds into me, praise whispered in my ear between grunts. “You’re so fucking hot, Poppy…never been this turned on in my life…I swear it’s like I’m a teenager again…I just want to be inside you all day or between your legs…fuck your tits have good bounce!” 

I reach up and pinch my own nipples, eliciting a moan not only from me but from Benny too. “Fuck yeah, Poppy. You’re so hot - touch yourself. Show me how hot you are.”

I hesitate a moment, having never touched myself in front of him, or anyone, before. But I trust the man currently buried inside of me with my entire heart. So I lift two fingers to his mouth and slide them inside, Benny swirling his tongue around them with a groan before I pull them out and place them on my clit, teasing myself how I like. The difference is, I’ve never had a man pounding me senseless while I did this and oh fuck this is hot. Benny pushes himself up, his eyes watching where I’m touching myself.

“Just like you like, Poppy. Oh fuck, this is hot, I’m gonna…cum with me!” 

And I do. I cum yelling his name as he continues to press deeper into me, my fingers still dancing across my clit as my legs twitch, my pussy tightening around him as he spills into me, my name a chant on his own lips. He leans down, still inside me, as he presses a soft kiss to my lips. 

“Feel better, sweetheart?”

I’m smiling genuinely this time, my entire body warm and relaxed as I nod. “Feeling loved.”

Oh. Fuck. What did I just say?

My eyes fly open as I look at him. We had never said that out loud. But Benny’s smile is wider than mine. “That’s because I love you, Poppy.”

“Y-you do?”

He kisses me again, still soft. “I have for a while.”

“I love you too, Benny. So much.”

The kiss heats up and I feel him twitch inside me. “Let’s go to the bedroom. I want to spread you out and show you how much I love you.”

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi 

@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso 

@theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz 

@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox 

@amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed  

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@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk 

[branwyn-says]

I’m Branwyn. Or Brittany, depending on when and where you met me. (Cesario, if you only knew me on Livejournal. I never did get over the Shakespeare thing.)

I’m 43. I was born and raised in the south. I moved to Baltimore 10 years ago, and now I’m back south for awhile.

I don’t have a manifesto for this substack. I don’t even have set intentions, or a posting schedule, or a professional plan. I’m trying reclaim the joy I lost when I stopped writing like a normal person online and started blogging like someone trying to have a career in new media.

So many things have happened since then.

The benefit of being older now is that I’ve had a little time to process this century, and myself, and how the internet’s changed, and how we’ve changed.

I want to write about coming back to North Carolina, a place where I longed to be accepted but never felt at home, a place I fled in confusion and disappointment after I experienced homelessness and assault and found there was no safety net for me. I came back here to help my friends, and I’m finding that after all, this is my home whether I like it or not. I love Baltimore, the lessons I learned there, and the life I was making. But I spent a decade acting like the past was dead to me, and it isn’t. I always wanted to come back here: a better, stronger version of myself.

A humbling thing to know about myself, at last.

I want to write about the lessons of age and trauma and grief. I want to write about my cat, because she just died. I want to write a journal, a proper journal. Not an audience-oriented, engagement-driven, algorithm boosted…anything. Not a political blog. I live my politics; I don’t theorize about them much. But I want to write about that life, too.

Livejournal Is Dead is going to be my new home on the internet. At some point if Substack goes peak fashy I might need to rehome it. Until then, please read it, if you want. Please talk to me in the comments, if you’re so moved. Please don’t leave Yelp review style comments, or comments only meant to stir up engagement with other commenters. I’m a relic of the vintage Internet, and the old-fashioned protocols will apply here.

Since I was 17 I’ve been pouring myself in words into the internet behind a series of masks. I’ve published over 2 million words online just since 2012. Some of the better known examples include:

K'diwa: A Steamy Novel of Interspecies Romance by Jim Kirk (AO3)

The Unified Theory of Ophelia (The Toast)

the "save $500 on bread this year"(viral Twitter thread)

Amateur Oppossum Actress (meme that originated as a comment on a Tumblr post)

the story about my 12th grade English teacher enjoying Buffy the Vampire Slayer while rolling his eyes at the idea that teenagers should be hot to old men (viral Tumblr post)

embroidery art of flowers that are people

a shitty Kindle best-seller about Alexander Hamilton that I got paid $500 to write in a week

If you’ve known me awhile or just encountered me, you’re welcome. Let’s all find out where we’re going together.

(ETA the actual link)

[kenniecrazyface]

HUGE Venting below cut just fyi. (This is mostly for me to try and write my thoughts out)

⚠️ALSO please don’t engage; I’m not trying to seek validation. Again, this is basically journaling. Sometimes, you just wanna put something out there to be heard, not responded to, ya know?❤️‍🩹

This is hilarious since my main thing is just “funny random” shitposts lmao.

I am a failure. I am below EVERYBODY else. I always make sure to remind myself every morning I wake up, and every hour of the day.

So much to say but I’m not good at writing stuff. Ig what’s bothering me right now is that things are suddenly just FLOPPING on Twitter. Idk if it’s because people are migrating to blue sky, the algorithm, or what.

(And the thing is, I am AWARE of the fact that it’s dumb to base your self worth on “internet points and likes”. But my whole life has ALWAYS been about numbers; weather it be OCD, getting the right number on the scale when I was at the peak of my Ed, or followers/likes.)

I know I make a ton of just, shitpost stuff, but sometimes I WANT to at least try and make something actually meaningful. But everytime I do, nobody cares about it. Maybe I’m damned to only be the “funny person” It definitely tells me that I am the absolute bottom of the barrel, and I am instantly humbled. Feeling even a little bit proud of myself, or thinking something I made looks ok feels WRONG. I am NOT talented. I am NOWHERE near as good as actual artists, and I never will be. I am unworthy. Maybe I’m destined to fail. What did I do wrong to never be able to taste success? At least I know that my reward at the end will be great.

I put a lot of time into it even if it doesn’t look like it. Hell, even the shitposts can take hours sometimes. ADHD is hell, and I believe it’s gotten worse as time goes on. (I DO try to get help for these things btw, but I can’t trust therapists) I see BEAUTIFUL masterpieces people make, and they say “oh this took 30 mins!” And I feel dreadful. I used to be able to do that, but idk what changed. Then all I can do is degrade myself to the point of panic attacks or tears.

Drawing is like, my only “talent” if you can call it that. That’s why even if I want to, I can’t bring myself to give up on it. I WANT to be good at it so bad. People compliment sometimes, but I know it’s fake. There’s no way I can be “good” at this. But I can’t even tell if I’m good or not. My brain distorts my art the same way it does to my body in the mirror. The only thing I have to gauge it is those damn numbers.

It seems like ALL hate i have for anything, I direct back at myself. If something bad happened to me, I definitely deserved it for SOME reason.

I may be a lost cause, but at least I can try and bring other people up. And that’s what I do. That’s why I never like sharing these bad thoughts, I never want to hurt anyone. I don’t want ANYBODY pitying me. I’ve been told I’ve been a huge help sometimes, but it’s so hard to accept that ANYTHING good can come from ME.

Maybe things will change someday. The world feels hopeless in so many ways rn. But if anyone is reading this, I promise things will be amazing for you. You have potential and a bright future ahead of you. And I envy you for that. God bless.❤️❤️❤️

[imagineanime2022]

The Variable *Part 8*

Caspian Keyes X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2035

Requested: @twilight5139

Request: next part pls i love it keep it up

*Part 7*

“Can you go any faster!?” Maddie asked the cab driver as he sped through the streets of London. “Actually I wouldn’t have to swap networks so quickly if he didn’t.” MIST said as a list of networks that she had been hopping between. “We’ll lose Caspian.” Maddie voiced the thoughts that ran through your head. “To lose Caspian we have to find him and his face isn’t showing up on any feeds.” MIST said. “Miss, should I take you both to the police?” The driver asked as he looked into the back where you were all sitting. “No, no, just keep going please. Fast.” You answered as Maddie transferred a large tip to the driver. “Alright then.” He answered. “We’re going to keep looking.” Maddie said as she plugged in her headset. “Be careful, I’ll keep an eye out here.” You nodded as you kept your eyes trained out the window. “Take us to the nearest airport.” Only 15 minutes later Maddie pulled the head set off and disconnected MIST. “What happened?” “SafeSurf almost got us.” Maddie answered “we might have lost him.” “Let’s take this one step at a time, we’ll find him and then when we do we go get him.” You hoped your voice sounded steady, strong because you were about 3 seconds away from breaking down. This was not something you could fix, you needed him here with you if you were going to stop Stephen Holstrom. “Where are we?” Maddie asked. “It’s the nearest airport, it’s a public place and there’s a lot of people here, we can at least stay here for a while in case anyone else is following us.” You explained as you climbed out helping her out, with MIST before making your way in.

You found a seat near the windows and placed MIST on the bench “There are some pictures, maybe you guys will recognise one of them.” MIST suggested, as hse started cycling through pictures. “No, no, next.” Maddie was getting more and more fed up as time went on, finally turning away from the screen. “I told you that we could find him, I thought that at least one face would stand out.” “Please keep looking.” MIST pleaded as you looked crouching in front of her, glancing at the screen before shaking your head as well. “Please don’t give up again.” “Again? I’m giving up for the first time.” Maddie said as she looked at her. “You disconnected me in the middle of a scan.” MIST answered. “I was trying to protect you.” Maddie answered as she started swiping through the photos again. “I had at least 300 cycles before the antiviral reached my core.” MIST answered. “The swarm was coming and you're not invincible.” Maddie argued. “I didn’t say I was.” MIST answered. “She’s right MIST.” You said “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” “Wait!” Maddie said, she pointed at the picture that she was looking at “did he change hats?” You looked at the screen, eyes focusing on the man next to him, the man that you had hit when they successfully abducted your boyfriend. “Well he looks like the one I hit.” You said pointing at the guy next to him. “Great, is it okay if I run some facial recognition algorithms or are you going to turn me off again?” MIST teased as she turned away from the both of you. “Don’t use too much power-” “Just kidding I already did it.” MIST interrupted Maddie as you rolled your eyes “The cab is registered to a Peter Meaken but he’s on vacation in Spain, this man’s face doesn’t come up on any government, or criminal database or social media.” “Not on any?” You asked, you remembered back before all this when Caspian used to look into people, he told you that everyone would have a digital footprint. If someone didn’t have one then they were actively trying to hide most of the time. “If you think that’s weird I got the same results from the other two faces in the car.” MIST explained. “They’re the ones that we’re looking for.” You said. “Who are these guys?” Maddie asked, an eye brow raised in confusion. “Process of elimination. Olivia told us that Caspian’s identity was leaked to the intelligence agencies of the six cyber superpowers.” MIST reminded us. “The same ones Chanda sent the upload tech to.” Maddie whispered. “Ghosts.” “No, they’re alive.” MIST corrected her. “Then let’s find them.” You smiled. “I used to surf all these dark web conspiracy boards. That’s where I met Caspian in the first place.” Maddie explained. “Simpler times.” You said softly. “The crazies there would talk about guys who went to extreme lengths to erase any photo evidence of them on the internet, even school photos, family Facebook posts.” Maddie recited. “Right Caspian told me about this too, The Massad ghosts right?” You asked. “So we should start with Israel.” “There’s someone who can help with that.” Maddie leaned forward. “There is?” You asked. “Olivia’s boyfriend is still alive, he’s the UI uploaded by Iran, they have to have information on their enemies UI.” Maddie answered, you nodded. “Do what you need to, I'll make sure that we’re okay out here.” You promised as you sat on the bench “lean against me as if you fell asleep.”

It had been a few hours before the airport security walked over to you “Are you okay?” She asked, arms crossed over her chest. “We’re fine, my sister fell asleep, do you need us to move?” You asked politely and she shook her head. “Where are your parents?” She looked around trying to catch a glimpse of anyone who looked like they might be with you. “Oh they aren’t with us. We’re travelling before I go to college, we’ve always been close.” You explained. “Right, well be sure to keep an eye on the flights, you’ve been here for a while, don't miss your flight.” She said. “Of course. Thank you.” She walked away just as Maddie started talking, you took a deep breath as she disappeared into the crowd, attention drawn to Maddie as she started to get a little louder. “Careful Maddie, you're drawing attention.” You said lowly as the security lady looked back at you. She tore the head set off her face. “Come on, I’ll explain on the way.” She said as she grabbed MIST.

You managed with the help of MIST to catch a flight to Cyprus, we’d found a gas station with a small field next to it, while you waited for the truck with everything that you needed for your plan to save Caspian, where some girls were playing football. “You used to play soccer.” MIST said. “Yeah a little.” Maddie answered. “I could not think of anything worse.” You muttered with your head leant back against the wall, Maddie giggled softly. “Feeling nostalgia?” MIST asked. “Not for the past, just for the normal, boring life I used to hate.” Maddie answered. “Playing soccer, listening to music, talking about boys,” MIST listened. “You sum up humanity so well.” Maddie laughed. “What about you (Y/N) did you have other friends?” MIST asked. “No, not really, people talked to me more than they talked to Caspian but he was always the first choice so people ended up steering clear of us because they didn’t want the package deal.” You explained “people called me his guard dog.” “That’s not nice.” MIST frowned and you shrugged. “Not everyone is nice.” You shrugged “I learned to stay away from people like that.” “Did you and Caspian go on dates before?” MIST asked. “MIST!” Maddie scolded her and you smiled. “No we didn’t, but I’m hoping that we might go on some after this.” You answered. “Can I observe?” MIST asked. “I don’t know about that.” She said softly. “Maybe we should wait until he’s not kidnapped.” MIST suggested. “Well I can’t guarantee that anything will have changed but we can definitely wait until then.” You agreed. “I’ll save my relationship questions for after then.” MIST said as you shook your head with a small smile on your face. The truck pulled up and as the man got out and looked at us he frowned. “What are you going to do with all this stuff?” He asked. “Keys please.” Maddie pleaded as she showed him her license. “You aren’t driving?” He asked. “I never learned to. My little sister has got this.” You said taking the keys from his before climbing in, you threw them to Maddie as she settled in the drivers seat. “Just so you know I’ve only driven like 5 times.” You shrugged but MIST looked concerned. “Better than my zero.” MIST gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t worry she’s got this.”

You helped Maddie set everything up, once the drones were up and running “Go fast and remember plan B.” Maddie ordered as she sat in the truck next to you putting on the visor. “They’re here! Hurry!” Maddie said, your eyes were on the road waiting for any movement “Plan B! Plan B!” She flung the visor off pulling her legs up to her chest. “The swarm was faster than before.” “It’s okay, I know that they’ll be back.” You smiled. “Do you think so?” Maddie asked. “I do.” You nodded. “They’ll be back here, it might take a while but they’ll be back, I’ve not known Caspian to ever give up.” “You’ve known him longer.” Maddie leaned back against the wall of the cargo bed to look at you. “Mmm, he has a downward spiral that makes him reckless but he doesn’t stop until he has achieved the main goal whatever that is.” You explained. “That happened before?” Maddie asked. “It happens all the time.” You answered. “We due a reckless move of two.” Before anything else could be said, you heard the car, you didn’t let Maddie move until Caspian actually got out of the car, she ran up to him and gave him a hug before turning his attention to you. “Are you okay?” He asked when he was finally close enough. “Yeah, I think so, I haven't really had time to look.” You answered assuming that he was referring to the fall you took trying to save him. “There’s no pain.” “Mm.” He hummed, pulling you into a tight hug and holding you there for a long while. “We have to get out of here before they come looking for you.” You said softly. “Yeah you're right.” He said, talking your hand and walking towards the front of the truck.

Once you deemed it far enough away you all got out to stretch your legs and talk about your next steps, you were sat on the hood of the truck behind Caspian while Maddie stood next to him “Everyone thinks that the world is going back to normal but it’s not is it?” Maddie asked. “Probably not.” You answered “Things are changing so fast that they can’t even see it.” Maddie added. “Yair was too unstable. I think that he could have had a shot at Holstrom, but… he couldn’t be the Guardian.” Caspian looked down at the floor as you gently ran your hands through his hair. “Farhad wasn’t doing so good either, the cure might have given him his strength back but his heart is broken… He is broken.” Maddie admitted. Caspian’s hand found your knee. “There’s no one left and we can’t leave Holstrom in charge, so it’s gotta be me.” You blood run cold, you physically froze before you pushed yourself back away from him and swung your legs over the side. “I told you due a reckless, self destructive decision.” You hopped off the truck. “I have to upload.” Maddie stepped towards you as if trying to offer support, you appreciated that but you weren’t about to waste your energy arguing, Caspian was going to do this no matter what you said now. “Let’s just go find somewhere to stay.” You turned back to the truck climbing in and gently moving MIST to your lap, angry at yourself yet again, for not being smart enough to see another solution.

Request Here!!