#Blog actually did a great job of answering

[cctinsleybaxter]

I love that the perfume blog got an ask about why perfumes keep getting compared to nasty organic scents like dude I have news about how perfume gets made...

[clover-the-awesomest]

AYO????????????

This was also fine.

[narnian-neverlander]

Your Villain [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Preview: It’s a few hours and a doctor’s visit later that you’re settled into your bathtub, back pressed against Viktor’s chest and hands stretched out in front of you to examine them in all their bandaged glory. Nothing vital had been injured, thankfully, a bit of rest and some medicine and you’d be good as new. “This is ridiculous.” you complain in a huff, pushing some wet strands of hair out of your face. “I was supposed to be taking care of you.” His arms tighten around your middle in response, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “I am overworked. You had a panic attack and accidentally sliced your hands open. Which one of those sounds like it should be higher up on our list of priorities, hm?”

Genre: hurt/comfort, light angst, fluff

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: blood, injuries, panic attack (reader accidentally hurts themselves during an attack), talk about neglectful/abusive parents & human trafficking, mildly suggestive (Viktor is a menace)

This is part of a series of stand alone One-Shots that all feature the same reader, you can find the masterlist here :3

A/N: Just in case I haven’t made that clear enough in all my fics, I love Jayce. Jayce haters have no space on my blog, bye 👋

“So what did you think?”

Jayce beams at you from up on the stage in the otherwise empty auditorium, you his only audience. You’d literally run into him on your way to deliver the boys’ food and without waiting for your approval, he’d immediately dragged you off to have someone to practice his presentation for some potential investors with. Most of the technical terms are lost on you of course, but the golden boy manages to make it all engaging and thrilling nonetheless, as you knew he would. There’s just one tiny little thing.

“It’s great. Except you look like you’re about to fall off the stage and start snoring any second.” His smile falters and it only serves to accentuate the dark circles under his eyes, his disheveled clothes and messy hair. If that’s the state he’s in, the one out of the two Hextech geniuses just a tiny smidge better at taking care of himself, you don’t even want to think about the other one. Unfortunately, it is kind of your job to think about the other one. “When did Mel say she was bringing over those potential new investors?”

“Soon.” he answers as he hops of the stage to join you. “Soon as in a few weeks, or a few days, or…?” The way he flinches makes you dread the worst. “Soon as in I think they might already be in her office.” Shaking your head in fond exasperation, you quickly gather your things and head back towards the lab with him. “Cutting it a bit close this time, aren’t we?” He groans as he walks alongside you down the hall. “There’s just been a lot happening at once recently, alright? Besides, they’re only coming by to talk to Mel today, the actual presentation from our side isn’t for a few days.”

He holds the door to the lab open for you and you quickly thank him as you duck inside, immediately zeroing in on the man sat at one of the desks, furiously scribbling into one of his notebooks. Greeting him happily, he replies with, “Ah, you’re back. Hand me those notes you took with you.” Jayce digs through his pile of papers for said notes and leaves them on the desk before coming to stand beside you. “Does he— Has it resgistered with him that I’m here…?” You’re trying your damn hardest not laugh as you pass a sandwich from your bag to the tall brunette; he shrugs while unpacking it. “Eh, maybe. 50/50 chance.” He takes a quick bite and then calls out to his partner again. “Hey V, your lover’s here.”

“That’s great, Jayce.” Deadpan, monotone. So Jayce ups the ante. “Yeah, we thought we’d maybe go on a date later? Or better yet, we skip that and just do it on a desk right here, you don’t mind, right?” A dismissive wave of a slender hand. “Yes, yes, whatever you want.” And you’re laughing while Jayce fondly shakes his head and continues to eat. Grabbing a thermos, you also snatch one of the stools scattered across the room and drag it over to where Viktor’s sitting. You sit down beside him, unscrew the bottle and pour some of the steaming contents into the empty mug still in front of him, then settle down sideways on the desk, arm tucked under your head for comfort as you watch him.

5 seconds. 4. 3. 2. 1. And there he is; blinking as the smell hits him and draws him out of his own little world. Works every time. You snort as he reaches for the mug. “At least now I know where I stand - and it’s below the sweetmilk. Disappointing, not surprising.” He startles, not really expecting anyone else in the lab, much less so close to him, eyes locking onto you and his gaze immediately grows soft. Mumbling apologies, his hand finds the back of your neck, practiced fingers drawing familiar patterns into the skin as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. Placated for now, you get back up on your feet and hug him from behind, arms around his shoulders and lips next to his ear. “How is the most handsome man in Piltover today?”

“Bone tired. But you knew that already, I guess. Pretty good, considering the stress, but it’s all gonna be worth it when—“ he cuts himself off when he finds two sets of judgemental eyes with raised brows on him, matching expressions conveying clear amusement. “And you were talking to Viktor.” Snickering, you answer, “Yes, Jayce, I was talking to the man I’ve been dating for months. I can see how you got confused though, considering our earlier bit. And I’m glad to hear you’re doing well, all things considered, but maybe some rest isn’t the worst idea? Get your mind working properly again?” And because the poor man doesn’t feel bad enough yet, Viktor brings a hand to his heart, clutching at his chest in mock offense and chimes in with, “Oh don’t be too hard on him, we can’t blame him; it’s only natural he’d assume you’re talking to him. Who would ever look at me when Piltover’s very own golden boy is in the room?”

Jayce opens and closes his mouth, failing miserably at trying to come up with a retort; both of you grinning at him like cats playing with their favorite toy, so he simply throws up his hands in surrender and settles on: “Oh, you both suck. You deserve each other.” Still laughing, you plant a quick kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek and then walk back over to the table where you left your bag, intending to grab his lunch. Not that you get very far, as the very familiar handle of a cane loops around your waist and drags you backwards in stumbling steps and before you know it you land in Viktor’s lap with an ‘Ooff!’

“And where do you think you’re going?” he complains, trapping you with him, arms tightly wound around your middle. “To get your food so you actually have the energy to go home with me?” You can feel the protest coming before he even opens his mouth and you’re absolutely not having it right now, not with the way he currently looks. “Darling, your eyebags have eyebags, you’re already about halfway out of your clothes and quite frankly, you reek. So you’re coming home with me, you’re gonna take a bath and then a nap and you’re not gonna argue about it. I just saw the presentation on your current project; it’s perfectly fine, your work is done and you have no reason to stay cooped up in here any longer today.” Tired, amber eyes blink at you owlishly several times before he cocks his head to the side and a sultry smile tugs at his lips and you curse yourself for not just slapping your hand over his mouth when you’d had the chance. “And when do we get to the part where I get to have you for dessert?” An eye roll at his boldness. “Maybe we can talk about it after your nap. Maybe.” His nose wrinkles in disapproval and he buries his face in the crook of your neck before you can stop him, warm breath fanning across your neck, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake when he speaks again. “Eh, I do not like that order.” You just barely manage to tangle your fingers into his hair and forcefully tug his head back before he manages to sink his teeth into the column of your throat. “Viktor…” you warn, only halfheartedly. He’s even worse of a menace than usual when he’s sleep deprived and you know that. You should know that. And yet you still make the mistake of looking at him.

With the first few buttons of his shirt undone, vest and tie discarded long before you even came into the picture, strands of his chestnut hair sticking up in every direction, partly courtesy of your fingers still keeping his head in place, and pupils blown so wide there’s only a thin ring of gold left, he damn well looks like you’ve already done something indecent. The ‘What…?’ he whispers is perfectly innocent, while the smile on his pretty lips is perfectly sinful. Your lover turns your brain to mush more often than you’d like and he likes to do it at the most inopportune of times. Unintentional, of course, he’d assured you. Right.

“Oh for the love of— I’m still here!” It’s your saving grace, the reboot your brain had sorely needed. “There are times when I liked it better when you two weren’t dating, do you know that?” You get your feet back on the floor and yourself off Viktor’s lap as you teasingly shoot back with, “And do you know that you get mean when you’re sleep deprived? You had a good hand in getting us together, you know, you’re only reaping what you sowed.”

Jayce flips you off with an equally teasing, gap-toothed grin, and of course that’s the exact moment the heavy doors open and Mel walks in. The three of you scramble to look at least somewhat professional in the young councilor’s presence, which includes Jayce immediately shoving his hands behind his back and you putting a good distance between you and Viktor by meandering back over to the table with your things, luckily positioned in a back corner of the lab mostly hidden by machinery, so you simply try to make yourself as invisible as possible; her visit always means business and that really has nothing to do with you, so you try to stay out of it to the best of your abilities.

“Councilor! I didn’t expect you today, what can we do for you?” She trails an elegant hand along one of the desks as she answers Jayce. “Oh nothing much. Your next potential investors were wondering if they could maybe sneak a peak at what they might be investing in.” The two scientists exchange quick glances. “With all due respect, our presentation wasn’t supposed to be until later this week. And to be honest we’re in no shape—“ She interrupts him with a call of his name, soft and amused and the air in the room becomes lighter, less professional. “Their little one asked to see the lab, that’s all. She was quite excited about the entire prospect of you two making actual magic happen here.” Viktor’s shoulders slump in relief as Jayce laughs lightly. “O-oh that’s… yeah, sure, why not.” Mel nods in thanks and then returns to the door, inviting the people waiting inside.

What happens next is mostly political pleasantries and introductions being exchanged, so you don’t really pay much attention, except… you know these voices. At least, you’re fairly certain you do, even if your mind can’t place them in this very moment. Trying to inconspicuously steal a glance at the visitors, you peek around a corner of machinery. You can’t see much, with their backs turned to you; two human adults with graying hair, in fine clothes, adorned with gold and jewels, and a little bouncing ball of energy hopping around them, trying to take in everything in the lab all at once.

“Mama, Papa, look! What’s that? And what do you use this for? Oh, why do you have that thing?”

A soft chuckle.

“My, your mind is as insatiable as always isn’t it, dear?”

And the glass bottle in your hands slips from your fingers and shatters into a thousand little pieces on the floor.

Mama, Papa, look! I’ve never seen any food like that! What do you think it tastes like? Can we get this back home, too?

My, your mind is as insatiable as always isn’t it, dear?

The blood’s roaring in your ears, ‘Oh that’s just a friend who brought over some food, nothing to worry about’ the last thing you hear from Jayce before the rest of the world gets drowned out. You’re on your knees, gathering glass shards in mechanical movements as your heart rate picks up enough for it to be considered worrisome. No matter how hard and deep you gulp down air, it can’t seem to fill your lungs and your breaths turn sharp, shallow, gasping.

Meanwhile Viktor is drumming his fingers against the wood of the desk in irritation and anxiety and the very instant these people are out the door, he’s up and walking across the room. Something’s wrong with you; he can’t explain it, but he’s absolutely certain nonetheless. As he rounds the corner of the lab equipment you’re hiding behind, his stomach drops and the breath almost gets knocked out of him.

Blood. All over the floor, smeared over your thighs and dripping from your trembling hands, glass shards clutched between your fingers. He shouts for Jayce to get the first aid kit immediately and then he’s down on the ground with you, desperately pleading with you to open your hands and let go. But it’s like you can’t even see him, much less hear him; breaths barely a shivering wheeze and glassy, unfocused eyes staring off into nothing. If he forces your palms open he’s only going to hurt you and himself, so he brings his hand to the back of your neck instead, gently coaxing you to him and leaning his forehead against yours; whispering quiet reassurances to you, hoping to pull you back from whatever dark place you slipped into.

“It’s okay, miláčku, you’re okay.”

“I’m with you, you’re not alone.”

“Breathe, please just breathe for me, my love.”

It takes several long, agonizing minutes, but your breathing slowly returns to normal and you finally unclench your hands, glass still sticking to your tender, bloody skin. Blinking, your eyes swim back into focus and you can’t remember how exactly you ended up on the floor, or why you feel so exhausted and light headed. Or why Viktor’s kneeling on the ground in front of you, looking like he just witnessed his very own personal hell play out in front of him; Jayce standing a few feet behind him with the first aid kit in his hands, equally concerned and horrified.

“V-Vik…?” you whimper and that’s when the pain finally hits and your gaze falls to the bloody, disgusting mess that is your hands and the sobs and tears start before the situation fully registers.

The both of them get you up and sitting on the nearest desk, Viktor next to you with an arm around your shoulders and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, tears staining his shirt as he shushes you gently. Jayce gets to work on your hands in the meantime, picking out glass shards from your skin with a pair of tweezers as carefully as possible. By the time he’s applying disinfectant to your wounds and starts slowly wrapping them in gauze, the lab’s silent except for your quiet hiccups. Gingerly, apologetically, Viktor makes you sit up so he can get a look at your face and while he doesn’t necessarily like what he finds, eyes red and puffy and glassy, still with the same empty faraway look from earlier, he deems it safe enough to question you. “Darling, can you tell me what happened…?” You open your mouth, you want to answer, but try as you might, nothing comes out. So he helps you along. “Did you know the people who were here?” A nod.

Jayce knows about the… unique circumstances you’d had to endure when you first came to Piltover. Not in as much detail as Viktor, he assumes anyways, but he’s your friend and you’d confided in him about it long ago. And with his partner’s usually sharp mind clouded with worry, he’s the one that connects the dots first. Not that it makes getting the question out any easier, so when he speaks it’s slow and hesitant. “Were they… were they some of the people that… bought you when you were a kid…?” To his surprise, or maybe relief, he’s not sure, you shake your head no. Short lived relief as your answer makes his blood turn to ice. “They’re the people that sold me in the first place…”

“Those were… those were your parents…?” Jayce asks carefully as he finishes wrapping up your hands and you don’t actually answer his question, only mumble to yourself under your breath, and what he manages to hear breaks the inventor’s heart. “They have a kid… they have a kid…”

In direct opposition to his partner, Viktor’s blood is boiling. If you weren’t entirely reliant on him to keep you upright at the moment, he would be out of the lab and after your birth parents already. And it’s not hard to tell what he’s thinking, with the sharp, deadly glare directed at the door, so Jayce calls his name. No reaction. Again. Same result. Third time’s the charm, this time a bit louder, with more force behind it, and the Zaunite’s narrowed golden eyes flit from the doors to his fellow scientist. He’s gotten up from the stool he’d been on to treat your wounds, now packing up the medical supplies and subtly inclines his head towards you. “Someone should get them to a doctor. And then home. And stay with them.”

The raging fire in Viktor dies down to flickering embers as he takes in your trembling, hunched over form, little whimpers still leaving your lips every once and again. “Of course…” he replies and he could kick himself. Of course. You’re in pain, you’re suffering and you need him right now. Whatever he might think of your birth parents, however much he’d like to throw some choice words on your behalf at them, your wellbeing comes first. So he ushers you to your feet, arms linked and starts steering you towards the exit. Jayce’s ‘Keep me in the loop, okay?’ receives a decisive nod right before the doors close behind you both.

It’s a few hours and a doctor’s visit later that you’re settled into your bathtub, back pressed against Viktor’s chest and hands stretched out in front of you to examine them in all their bandaged glory. Nothing vital had been injured, thankfully, a bit of rest and some medicine and you’d be good as new. “This is ridiculous.” you complain in a huff, pushing some wet strands of hair out of your face. “I was supposed to be taking care of you.” His arms tighten around your middle in response, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “I am overworked. You had a panic attack and accidentally sliced your hands open. Which one of those sounds like it should be higher up on our list of priorities, hm?” Unconvinced, you grumble further objections under your breath and poke at one of the dwindling bubbles in the steaming water, careful not to get your hands wet, lest you need to re-wrap them again this evening. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that… I’m not usually—“

“Stop.” He silences you with a kiss to your jawline. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just sorry you had to go through that in the first place.” With a defeated sigh, you scoot down further into the tub, nestling into his embrace and nosing at the slope of his neck. Silence falls between you for a while, except for the soft music from your phonograph over in the other room. You haven’t talked about anything that has happened and he hasn’t pried, hasn’t pushed and you know he won’t. Just like you know that you probably should talk about what’s weighing down on you so heavily. “Their kid. She seemed… happy. Well taken care of.” Ah, right, that’s why you’d refused to talk. You’re already crying again, swallowing around the growing lump in your throat. “Which means they can be good parents. Nurturing. Kind. They just couldn’t be that for me.” A sobbing hiccup is a precursor of what’s to come. “Why— Why couldn’t they just be that for me?!” You curl in on yourself, tucked against his chest, dissolving into a whimpering, crying mess. He stays mostly silent through it, only comforting little nothings between soft kisses against your skin. He waits for you to calm down, quiet sniffles the only thing left of your outburst, before he speaks. “It is not your fault, my light. They’re the fools who never gave you the love and care you deserved and in turn gave up the chance to see the wonderful person you would become.”

The grief and pain in your chest slowly turns into something else entirely; bitter and ugly and hateful.

“I want them to see. I want them to see what I accomplished, the person I turned into, without their help. In spite of what they did to me. I want them to look at me and recognize that they messed up; groveling and begging for forgiveness that I won’t grant.” And a part of you does want that, more than anything. Wants to see them humiliated and crying and broken, just like they left you once, long ago. But that’s just one part of you. Another one thinks of the little, bubbly, starry eyed girl you’d seen sprinting about the lab; happy and joyful to be experiencing, sharing, something new and exciting with her beloved parents. A heavy sigh leaves you as realization which part of you will win out in the end hits. “But it wouldn’t change anything. The only thing it would accomplish is ruin the image an innocent girl has of her parents. It would change things for her, not for me or for them. I’d be destroying the foundation parents are supposed to be for their children and it would make me just like them.”

“You’re a stronger person than I ever could be. If not for you and Jayce, I would’ve gone after them today. Given them a piece of my mind.” A kiss to his pulse point. “It’s the thought that counts. Besides, there was a time when I would’ve needed them in my life. Not anymore. I had a parent; a dad who raised me and supported me and gave me all the love and care I ever needed. And while he might not be around anymore, I still have people who love me. That’s more than enough.”

What you’re about to say next doesn’t come as easily to you; it’s inappropriate and you hate the fact that you even consider asking, but not mentioning it at all doesn’t sit right with you either. “Viktor, I… I don’t wanna ask this of you, I shouldn’t be. It’s presumptuous and selfish and my personal life shouldn’t be interfering with your work, but… please, just…” You can’t bring yourself to actually finish that sentence, not that you really have to, you both know what you’re implying. He doesn’t immediately reply, you don’t expect him to and you definitely don’t expect him to agree. What you’re asking is audacious at best, downright offensive at worst and you wouldn’t blame him if he got upset with you over it. What happens instead leaves you utterly baffled, because he carefully takes hold of one of your hands and presses a light kiss to the bandaged knuckles and says, “I still remember the last time I saw you when we were kids, you know.”

“You came bounding down to the riverbed, almost tripping over your own feet, yelling my name and waving your hands. Telling me all about how your parents were gonna take you to Piltover for the first time the next day. How you were gonna try every food you’d be able to get your hands on. How you were gonna bring me back a new toolbox. Gods, you were so excited, you were glowing.” A fond, soft chuckle. “I want a future where every child in Zaun can look and feel like that all the time. That’s the kind of future I want to create with Hextech. People like your parents, who will sell their own flesh and blood, who will sell Zaun’s future, for their own gain? They will not be a part of that. Not as long as I have a say in anything Hextech. So please don’t worry.”

Water splashes over the edges of the tub as you shift, straddling him and cupping his face. With glassy eyes and shaky breaths, you bring your forehead to his and whisper your thanks. He gently takes a hold of your forearms as he speaks. “Not for this. Not for anything that has transpired today.” Shaking your head slightly in disagreement, you grab one of his wrists and leave a kiss on his palm. “Yes, for this. For everything you did today. I’d never take that for granted, I’d never take you for granted, but I feel like I don’t actually tell you enough. How glad I am that I have you. How happy it makes me that you decided I’m the person you’d like to share your life with. How fortunate I consider myself to be with someone I can always rely on, no matter what.” His eyes seem to glow in the candlelight, warm honey taking you in with pride and affection as he moves his arms to wrap around you in a loose hug. “I hope you know that feeling’s mutual.” Humming in acknowledgment, you manage to ignore the part of you that disagrees with him. That little, nasty voice in the back of your head is always there, but it’s been getting quieter in recent months, easier to handle. So instead of questioning yourself and wether you truly are a support for him as much as he is for you, you kiss the mole under his eye, run your nose along his sharp cheekbone, press another kiss to the mole right above his mouth and then your lips finally find his, sweet and chaste. “Yeah, I know…” you mumble and kissing becomes virtually impossible with how much he’s smiling so you pull back with an overly dramatic huff to pout.

“So, considering the day did not at all go as planned and your precious order of things got… eh, kicked right out the window: Have you changed your mind on dessert yet?” Truly, it takes you a few very long seconds. It’s the suggestive raise of a thick brow that finally makes all the pieces click into place and the flush of your skin can’t be attributed to the hot water alone anymore as you try to dunk him for that. When that doesn’t work, you settle for splashing him instead, wet bandages and bathroom floor be damned, and try as you might to seem offended, you’re smiling and laughing right along with him. “Oh so that was your intention all along? You’re a fiend; a vile, treacherous fiend, Viktor.” He manages to get a careful hold of your flailing hands, before you hurt yourself further, with one of his own, using the other to push wet hair back and out of his face, some droplets still clinging to his long lashes as he grins up at you. “You wound me, my love, I would never. My only intention with this was to make you laugh. Is that truly such a vile and treacherous deed?”

You’re left gawking at him in awe, because even after all this time, you still can’t fully comprehend how well he knows you. “Well…?” A slender finger pokes your cheek. “Am I still the villain?” Of course he’s not. He never could be. Not in your story, anyways. But you and your wounded pride aren’t quite willing to admit that yet. So you turn your gaze away, cause you can’t possibly stay even fake mad at him if you have to look at his stupid face with that crooked grin you adore so much, before you answer. “Yes, yes you are. A devious, troublesome, terribly handsome—“ Your face scrunches up in annoyance; at yourself and your brain’s inability to function properly around this man and the bastard actually has the audacity to laugh at you while he hugs you closer and tucks his head under your chin so you can’t get another opportunity to soak him yet again. You loop your arms around his shoulders and bury your hands in his hair and fiddle with the wet strands instead.

“Eh, well, at least I’m your villain. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your hold on him tightens, the grip on his hair almost painful, your answer immediate and certain. “Always. I… I’ll always want you. Villain or not.” A tad much maybe, a little silly, you’re only joking around after all, but you can’t help it. You have the love of your life right here in your arms, of this you’re certain, and as long as he still wants you in return, you don’t plan on letting him go. And you’d take any chance to tell him as much.

He doesn’t seem to see it as too much or silly, though. Not with the way he presses a lingering kiss to your chest, right where he can feel your fluttering heartbeat under your wet skin and hums in contemplation and gratitude. “The rest of the world can have me as their villain, as long I get to have you in return.” Carding your fingers through his hair softly, he receives a small chuckle as his answer. “Silly. You already have me.” You use the fingers already tangled in his chestnut locks to tip his head back and get his eyes on you, beautiful amber like a warm, familiar fire. “I’m yours, now and always. And nothing is ever going to change that.”

“Nothing…” he echoes, gaze already on your lips. The kiss is passionate, loving and oh so tender. A newfound promise between lovers, sealed to last an eternity.

[wildemaven]

he makes life better | joel miller

-> pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x reader

-> word count: 1335

-> content warning: 18+ blog; bad day, annoyed with work, dealing with flat tire, joel being sweet, lots of fluff

-> note: this is for my sweet friend @gnpwdrnwhiskey hoping this brings a smile to her face 💞 this isn’t beta’d either so it’s probably filled with mistakes lol.

masterlist

Joel ❤️: How’s your day going Honey?

I’m so ready for my shift to be over. I’d rather read the dictionary, front to back, than deal with the shit they have me doing today. 

RING

“That bad, huh?” Joel’s voice brings you an instant smile when you answer his call, silently stepping away from the mess that you were dealing with at work. 

“You have no idea. It already feels like it’s been the longest week, today has just added to the shit show life keeps throwin’ at me lately. Went to leave for work this morning and I had a flat tire. Ugh! I’m sorry for complaining.” You vent to him, tucking yourself in a secluded corner. You were going against policy by taking a personal call while on the clock, but you didn’t care about company policy or the outcome of you were to get caught at the moment— Joel was your only focus right now. 

“Hey, none of that. Don’t apologize for being stressed. Why didn’t ya call me ‘bout your tire?” Joel asked. 

You know he would’ve dropped everything the minute did call him, which is also why you didn’t. He had been stressing over starting at a new job site, one of the biggest ones he had been hired for. The last thing you wanted was to add to his already busy day of things he had to deal with. 

“You’d already left for work and had that new job you’ve been talkin’ about. Didn’t wanna bother you with it. I called AAA and had them put the spare on for me so I could drop it off at the tire shop. Now, I’m unexpectedly the owner of 4 new tires.” 

“I don’t care how busy I am— you need something, you call me, no matter what. Got that, Honey?” 

“Got it, Joel. Thank you.” You smile into the phone at his concern for you, always finding ways to make you fall even deeper in love with him. 

“Good. Hey, I gotta go. Tommy looks like he’s about ready to break his back. I should probably go help him before he actually does and my insurance takes a hit. I’ll see ya tonight then, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah. I should be outta here in 3 hours.” The end to your long shift, almost over. 

“That sounds great! I love you, Honey. I’ll see ya later.” You can faintly hear Tommy cursing in the background. 

“Love you too, Joel.” You tell him before the line goes dead. Giving yourself a few minutes of quiet before heading back to join your team and the never ending line of customers. 

The rest of your shift goes by fairly quickly. Joel’s phone call must have been just the moral boost you needed to sprinkle a little bit of extra positivity into your day.

The minute the clock hit 5 pm, you wasted no time clocking out and logging out of your computer for the day. Deliberately bypassing your usual exit path to avoid any chatty coworkers, Joel and home your main focus of the rest of your day, you weren’t going to waste any time stuck in drawn out conversations. 

Your purse thrown over your shoulder, work apron crumpled in one hand and the other holding your empty tumbler that once held the warm delicious coffee you had hoped would sustain you through the day, now wishing it was filled with something a little stronger to help you unwind when you got home. 

It’s a struggle trying to juggle your things as you search for your keys, lost somewhere in the depths of your purse along with the rest of your life's necessities. You pause in the middle of an empty parking space near where your jeep is parked to give the search your full attention. After some thorough digging, you locate your keys and let out an exasperated sigh, one step closer to being home. 

Taking a step forward as you press the unlock button on your key, you look up to see an unexpected sight. A familiar truck in the parking spot next to yours, and the most handsome man leaning on it. He looks like he came straight from the job sight, too. His peppered grey hair disheveled, but his soft curls were still intact even after a long day. The sleeves of your favorite green flannel are rolled up over his flexed forearms that are crossed against his chest, the fabric stretched over his broad shoulders. 

The sight of him is enough to melt away any of the bullshit you had endured over the past week, a completely welcomed surprise. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, letting your feet carry you the rest of the way to him. 

“Heard you were havin’ a shitty day. Couldn’t let my lady end it on a bad note.” He croons, pushing himself off the side of his truck, opening his arms to you. 

You melt into him, your face nestled into his shoulder. His rugged scent of musky vanilla and natural pheromones is permanently infused into the fibers of his shirt, it’s your favorite thing ever. His strong arms wrap around you as he presses a soft kiss to your temple, prompting you to straighten up, looking into his amber eyes. 

“Hi, Cowboy.” You beam at him. 

“Hi.” He says, leaning in to gently mold his lips over yours. “I’ve got a surprise for ya, Honey.” 

“This was enough of a surprise for me. What more could I need?” Stealing another kiss from him. 

“If I tell ya, it won’t be a surprise then, will it?” He says, tilting his head slightly as he looks at you. 

“I guess you have a point.” 

“We’ve gotta get going though, it’s time sensitive.” He grabs for your things and walks you around to the passenger door, holding it open as you climb in. “We’ll grab your jeep in the mornin’, if that’s okay with you?” 

“Whatever you say, Cowboy.” He leans back in for another kiss, before making his way around into the driver’s seat. 

*

The drive isn’t long. Down some familiar roads that lead to a dirt one off the main highway. His truck travels down the gravel road lined with a barbed wire fence. After a few minutes he’s pulling off to the side and killing the engine. 

“You brought me to my favorite place.” Looking over to his side of the truck, where he’s already looking in your direction. Your heart grows at how he thought to bring you here, knowing how much joy it brings you every time. 

“Thought you could use it. Look, here they come.” He says pointing to your window. 

Off in the distance, the small herd of cows were in pursuit of their evening meal and water break. Mamas with their little rambunctious calves trailing behind, trekking along the same path they travel each evening. 

It’s a calming sight. Their heads bobbling with each dramatic step. Tails whipping over their rear ends to swat away the annoying flies. A few stopping mid trek to look in your direction, letting out a long drawn out moo. Their friendly hello, it’s good to see you again, then back on the move. 

The sky is painted in pinks and purples as the sun dips below the horizon. Your day feeling less shitty as you sit silently in the cab of Joel’s truck. His hand resting on your thigh while his thumb draws soft circles over thick denim seam. 

“Thank you for this. Didn’t realize how much I needed it. I love you, Joel.” You tell him, rolling your head over the headrest in his direction. 

“I did it because I love you, Honey. And s’what I’m here for.” There’s a low rumble in the air as he turns the key over, shifting the truck into drive. “Now, how ‘bouts we head on home and I spend the rest of the evenin’ show you all the other ways I love you?”

“Take me home, Cowboy.” 

[dianagj-art]

Am over here biting each art you post, each info you post about One or onion as if it's 5★ dish BECAUSE IT IS THAT TASTY 🩷🩷🩷

Few questions (remember if you don't feel comfortable about or don't want because of spoilers feel free to ignore):

- What causes you to have the genius idea of putting an animation in few panels of the comic? Like did you thought of it? Did somebody/friend suggested it?

- name one friend/ROTTMNT AU you don't mind to have their character/OC in your comic even as a background character?

- What causes One to change his mind about the mad dogs and decided to join their family?

- If you have a plot about making a new episode of ROTTMNT that involves One (and maybe somebody else; could be one of the brothers or splinter or anybody you want) what the plot's gonna be about?

- if onion (i keep calling F!One that, the disrespect is unimaginable am sorry 🥲) followed the movie plot would he end up ashes like canon F!Leo or will he make it back alive with casey JR?

- how's One's bond with Cassandra?

- how does One feel about Draxum demoting from an alchemist to a lunch lady? (LBH this's funny job for him).

- do you plan on putting an episode about One & Draxum AFTER their redemption? Like will they forgive and (probably not) forget?

- Name or draw one outfit you would love for One or draxum to wear as their casual clothes.

- any cute, funny or wholesome HCs about One after his redemption arc?

That's all for now! Again thank you if you answered my questions but if not then it's all good👍

Have a great week and take care of yourself 🩷

1)Oh, I just answered something about this here, but the short version is: I've wanted to do a mix of animation and comics for a long time (a zelda comic was my first inspiration for this) When I started this au it was gonna be an animatic so when I changed that to comic form, I still had a few things that I really wanted to have animated

2 )I'm not gonna @ them to not bother them, but I think I'm gonna end up having the sep council on the bg at some point lmao, this ask is from october and the reason I have been holding it back from answering is cause I kind of already did with the wall of champions on the last update!

3) for spoilers reasons I wont get too deep into this one, but while there IS a defining moment of him taking a choice, is not that what matters, what matters the most is the journey, after all, is the time he has spend with his brothers up to that point is what makes him flip sides

4)I do have a few episodes planned like that! right now I'm following the episodes that already exist cause is fun to see them change with the au, but I also have some that are things I made up! One I'm excited about is with Raph and One having some solo time on the Hidden City

5) "the disrespect" LMAO my brain refused to call him Oneion too at first, but is just easier with all the leos of the crossovers. He's not gonna go back with Casey Jr, sorry, his fate is not set in stone yet but I do know he's not gonna end up in ashes. I'm not gonna explain more than that lol

6) this has been asked a lot so I'm just gonna throw these here too @damonagel04-blog

One and Cass end up having a weird little friendship, based on mutual respect. After teaming up with the Foot Clan for canon plot reasons, One fights all the foot recruits as a training/demostration kid of thing and the only one who can stand their ground against him is her, and of course he finds her fun to fight, cause he can actually have a fight with her. After that they go on missions together, cause they force One to be with a team and he doesn't do teams but agrees if she goes, because she is actually a good fighter and competent enough to carry out the mission

Also, I have the headcanon that they can't use their real names on the Foot Clan, that's why they call her Recruit. you just give out your name if you actually trust the other person, but given the fact that everyone serious on the foot clan is a shady ninja and the other part of the foot are random people, she had never actually given her name to anyone. After a few missions together, Cass decides she can actually trust One with her name

They do end up being friends, tho One would never call it that, at least not pre-redemption

7) One doesn't really think much of it, he knows Draxum likes to cook, he has cooked for him his whole life, so he ending up with a cooking job on the surface is not so weird, and he knows Draxum has to lay low so it makes sence for him to be on such a crappy place. Plus One's gonna have another things in mind to worry about, he wouldn't have brains to judge that.

8) Oh I have so many things planned for their journey post redemption, but those are spoilers, they will eventually end up in a better place

9) I do have some doodles of one on casual clothes (1) (2), Draxum I honeslty have no idea

10) I'm gonna give you one thing with each of the hamatos:

Mikey teaches One to cook, he learn the hard way that you have to give One very specific instructions on what to do or he'll fuck up

One likes spending time on Donnie's lab, just lounging while Donnie works (is familiar to him), Donnie has a beanbag where he goes to nap sometimes while pulling consecutive allnighters, One ends up claiming that spot for himself

Raph helps One work through his anger issues, having experience working on his own, he's also the one One opens up the most

Splinter overhears One saying he used to wear a robe when being at his home and gets him a few. One ends up getting suck into watching telenovelas with Splinter

One likes putting on face masks with April, they end up having full "spa days" at April's at least once a month

and that's it! thanks for the ask!

[pendingnomdeplume]

pairing: hozier x gn!reader rated: T (language)

PROMPT: A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss.

author's note: This was pre-written and is part of a backlog of items I still have from the previous blog. xoxo.

“Five minutes!” A voice crackles over the radio clipped to your belt, yet you’re undeterred as you continue to stare Andrew down. It’s a stand-off of sorts—the natural progression of a confrontation after he made some snarky comment under his breath, and you whirled around on him to finally, finally ask him what his fucking problem is with you. 

“I seem to be the only person you can’t stand on this entire crew, and I just want to know why,” you say, your tone is low and restrained as you attempt to keep anyone else from hearing on the other side of the dressing room door. The rest of the band is waiting in the wings, but the pounding footsteps of crew members dashing by makes you nervous. 

Andrew glances between the door and you. His mouth opens and closes, but neither an excuse nor an answer comes out. Instead, he runs an agitated hand over his frizzy hair and sighs loudly. 

“I don’t know…” He trails off, eyes still averted away from your heated stare. 

“You don’t know…what, exactly? Don’t know what I’m talking about? Bullshit. You absolutely fucking do. Don’t know why you hate me so much? Then, please, figure it the fuck out. I’m here to do a job, and it’s really hard to personally assist someone when that person is being a total fucking dickhead all the time! Christ Almighty, I’ve only ever heard good things about you, and yet I’m somehow the one that gets this shitty, snarky version of y—” 

His hands are on your face before you even realize he’s stepped closer, too caught up in your own rant to pay attention. His touch is firm, squishing your cheeks as he tilts your head to force your own gaze upward. 

It happens in the blink of an eye. You feel the brush of a kiss against your lips before he pulls away and puts distance between you. His expression is full of worry, an apology already on his tongue as you stare blankly. His mouth is moving, but you’re not comprehending anything he says as your face burns. You can still feel the ghost of his touch as though it’s imprinted on your skin. 

Andrew is still rambling when you reorient yourself. “...and, if you’re completely done with me and this whole thing, I get it, and I won’t blame you for leaving. But I can talk to the tour manager, and maybe we can put you somewhere else? I’m sure Allison would love to have someone, and you wouldn’t have to see me or deal with me for the most part, and you could still work with the band because I know they love you. I’m just so, so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking doing that when I’ve been awful to you, I don’t deserve the kindness or patience you’ve extended to me, and I don’t—I’m sorry I fucked this up. I didn’t know what to do.” 

You swallow audibly. “Didn’t know what to do about what, exactly?” 

There’s the barest hint of a smile on his lips as he replies. “Feelings. Not great at ‘em. Obviously.” 

Annoyance buzzes along your skin, but you ignore it as you comprehend what he’s actually saying. “You…have feelings. For me.” It’s less a question and more a statement. 

“Correct,” he nods. 

“And your plan to deal with that was to bully me like you’re 12 years old?” 

He shrugs. “Wasn’t exactly a plan. More that it just…happened that way.” 

You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of this. Of him. 

“Jesus, Andrew. Did you want to pull on my pigtails while you’re at it? Grown-ass man…” 

You catch the shift in his expression—the way his shoulders relax just slightly, the way he allows himself a small, cheeky smile as he shrugs and replies. “More than happy to do so if you ask.” 

There’s something about that response—about the way he smiles at you, eyes crinkling in genuine joy and relief that you’re not shouting abuse at him or leaving the tour altogether—that spurs you forward. A rough tug on the lapels of his grey suit jacket clues him in quickly, and suddenly you’re pressed back against the dressing room door as he kisses you like a man possessed. Your hand automatically comes up to rest at the nape of his neck, unable to bite back a whine as his tongue slides against yours, as his hands grip your waist and threaten to slide up your shirt.

A banging sound reverberates through your chest, startling both of you until you’re springing towards opposite sides of the room. The door swings open, and a miserable-looking tech pokes his head in and points at Andrew with a frown. 

“You! We gotta go! Only a minute!” The tech is gone in a flash, the sound of his words echoing down the hall as he jogs back towards the stage. 

Andrew can only choke out an apologetic sound with a desperate flail of his hands, and you wave him off with one hand while the other covers your grin. “Go, go, go, we’ll talk later. Go be a rockstar or whatever.” 

He snorts, and you barely catch the, “Hardly a rockstar,” as he jogs out of the room. 

[duskwoodraven]

I feel moved to speak, sooner rather than later because I believe time is of the essence and this needs to be understood in order to keep Moonvale from crumbling to the ground completely.

This is not completely spoiler heavy, but it will discuss the game. I should note that unfortunately I have not finished the episode because I am struggling with the mini games in making progress. So I do not know how the episode ends, but I need to say this in order for me to rest.

I am very angry and disappointed with this game, and even more than that, I hold a great deal of second hand embarrassment for Everbyte.

One of the greatest reasons I respected these developers during Duskwood is that the game never felt like a cash grab like so many games do these days. The option to make a one time payment for complete access to Duskwood was fantastic, an option they should have carried to here and that is the biggest grievance I have.

There is no reason a game should cost hundreds of dollars to experience and enjoy. There is no reason for the prices of gems to be as expensive as they are. This is unacceptable Everbyte, and you should feel ashamed of it, you should know better.

The beauty of Duskwood and what set it apart was its feel of realism and the fact that every question had a reasonable answer. Your use of AI art has cheapened the look of your game, not enhanced it, not to mention it’s insulting to use generated art when there are many artists who are already losing jobs to AI, artists who would have been happy to work with you if given the chance. If the cost of commission is too high, then use of stock photos you had before was just fine, and I believe you should have kept it, I can’t look at Ash and Charlie’s profiles without it striking me as goofy.

Furthermore, the story does not make sense, we were able to read chats because Jake made it possible for us, now it just feels like the return of a gimmick with no explanation, the same with the mini games, in the past we did mini games to “hack” into Hannah’s cloud, now we do it “just because”. It’s lost its feeling of meaning, not to mention most private chats are behind the gem paywall, which we never had to deal with before!

The characters seem more plain to me, or maybe they are loveable but I’ll never know because again, paywall. I can’t read the premium options and get to know them deeper because of it. There are also no profiles like before, which is awful because we can’t look back on past video calls and links and we can’t see what these characters are all about, their personality is gone.

Even MC’s answer options seem blander, more vanilla, repetitive or one directional.

I say this truthfully from my soul, if this was the style of of game you dropped but for Duskwood instead, I never would have played it.

I would have never fallen in love with it.

I would have never made this blog and would never have waited years for every episode and a new game.

I would have never made art and countless theories.

I would have deleted the game immediately.

So I’m asking you, begging you, please change this for our sakes, and especially for yours.

Because despite all my gripes and anger, and everything I’ve said, I know you guys have actually worked hard on this game because the evidence is there, hidden beneath it all.

I love the actual real life people you have for Adam and Eric, I was so moved to help Adam when he started to cry. I want to know why he knows us and wants our help. I laughed when Eric told us he had tripped, and I do want to get to know him. I even wished to lovingly twist Charlie’s neck! That is the game I remember loving, its writing and characters, I can see the potential here.

But you need to change something, otherwise I cannot support this game, I cannot force myself to play it. I will drop Moonvale.

Give the players a one time payment option for 100% complete access to the game, access to all premium options. That’s the least I feel anyone could ask of you and is biggest reason you are getting this backlash.

To my fellow players, if you agree with any of what I said then I ask you not to pay for anything until Everbyte changes to make their game more affordable. Don’t be quiet and please voice your opinions everywhere they can see it. That’s the only way something could change.

I am so sorry this is what we got… you all deserve better.

[gambleofstars]

Electrician Reader as Vox's Assistant (Pt. I)

₍ ⌨ ᶻᶻᶻ gambleofstars is typing ... ₎

↳ ❝ [a/n: I actually left an ask of this concept in another writer's blog in here anonymously but I felt enough energy to write it now, so if you see some similar posts, that's why] ¡! ❞

Pt. II

⋆♡*  When you arrived in hell, the first thing going through your mind was: man that hurt like a bitch. Dying from electric shock was not the way you wanted to go but eh, fuck it. Not like your life was going anywhere far.

⋆♡*  Great news though: you're immune to electricity related risks!

⋆♡*  Soon enough, you got the hang of how things were run down here and it wasn't that different from the overworld (isn't that just food for thought) and adapted. You weren't above scheming and using people on earth, so why would you hold back on it in hell? There was a reason you were here, after all.

⋆♡*  You did some random jobs: cleaner, courier, the whole nine yards to scrape some money together and move out of the shitty hostel - of which you tricked the owner of to let you stay.

⋆♡*  After that, it wasn't long until you got into your groove again with the exact thing that got you killed - Electrical work.

⋆♡*  At first, it was just fixing little things, like TVs and phones for much cheaper than their manufacturer would. You knew it would bite you in the ass sooner or later because the big companies in hell (much like on earth) don't play nice when it comes to their money.

⋆♡* And the day arrived one hellish morning when you were promptly dragged to the HQ of Voxtech with not even a coffee in your system.

⋆♡*  Didn't take too long until you got a job here. Not any job, mind you; you were now the personal assistant of the most annoying CEO ever - Vox.

⋆♡*  You're pretty sure the reason was the fact that when he got into his usual hissy fits, throwing around monitors and overcharging every corner of the room, you had no problems withstanding the voltage.

⋆♡*  This manchild will look you straight in the eyes and froth at the mouth of how he hates the radio at least 5 times a day- oh- oh wait....... Make that six now.

⋆♡*  (Of course you signed an NDA, don't be ridiculous)

⋆♡*  Every day fell into a routine. You were out of the house by 7:00, signing in at the front desk by 7:32, by the coffee machine by 7:45 and standing with a double shot espresso in front of Vox's office by 8:00 sharp.

⋆♡*  He didn't shy away to let you know he appreciated the punctuality and if you were late in the future it would be showing accordingly on your next paycheck.

⋆♡*  The other Vees find you amusing, if anything. Maybe because you don't get intimidated by your boss' tantrums and stand unfazed, with a, now fizzy, coffee after them

⋆♡*  Valentino will pick you up like a ragdoll with all his four limbs and use you as a meat shield when Vox wants to bite his head off because of another PR nightmare he will have to deal with.

⋆♡*  (Of course he asked you to perform in one of his... movies, but the only answer he got from you was a dead stare and a loud sip of your coffee) (He did want to tear you apart after that, but you were called to Vox's office)

⋆♡*  Velvette, on the other hand, uses you as her personal mannequin whenever you're on your lunch break. Standing wearing the latest fashion items while eating your sesame bagel is a normal occurrence at this point. Don't spill anything though, or she will ask Vox to add after hour work for you (she has done it before).

⋆♡*  She does enjoy having someone to listen to her yapping when Vox doesn't want to (or when he's having a monologue of his own) even unwillingly.

⋆♡*  Finally, in the after hours, when the otherwise empty office is only illuminated by only your computer, you'll go out on the balcony, in the windy night of the pride ring city, light a cigarette and close your eyes for a bit.

⋆♡*  Just for a second, this feels like home.

⋆♡*  Better than home.

hihi, first time writing here and hopefully not messing up haha 💋

signing off, gamble

[whatispersonalspacejyp]

SKZ Reaction; Asking you out

Genre: fluff

This is a continuation of how you meet

Original Date: 14 April 2020

Bang Chan

GIF by luvknow

You and Chan spend a lot of time producing new music. Right now you were walking to his studio with four cups of coffee. Since Jisung and Changbin where in the too. 

You stood just outside the door when you heard them talk. “No, Jisung I’ve asked yet, I want to ask with the love song I produced.” “You know y/n could come back any minute right?” You opened the door at that moment. “Did ya’ll order some coffee?”  Chan blushed a bit as he looks at you as you winked at him. 

Jisung and Changbin noticed the tension within the room and smirked. “Y/n, Channie-hyung made a song for you.” Jisung said, earning a glare from Chan. “Oh well I wanna hear that.” You laughed, Chan at this point had his head in his hands. Changbin took it to himself to play the song. 

The song had a soft tune and the lyrics sounded like a confession. You had closed your eyes enjoying the sounds. “This sounds really good, did you really wrote it for me?” 

“Yes...” Chan finally looks up at you and smiled when he saw you smile. “I like you too Chan.”

Lee Minho

GIF by

Minho came every Saturday to the shelter, too help you with the cats. The both of you were playing the kittens at the moment, you were still curious about why Minho actually was coming every week.

“Minho, why do you come here? You have three cats at home and a busy job.” You couldn’t understand why he want to be here. Many times Minho said he likes it here, but you didn’t believe it.

Minho could clearly see that you wanted answers and not the one he gave you. “Well, actually I met a someone, who I started to like a lot. More than I’m allowed to. And that person is here every Saturday taking care of cats.”

“That’s great to hear.” You felt a bit nervous, cause the only one you could think about was yourself. But at the same time you didn’t believe it, why would he like someone like you. 

Minho smiled. “y/n would you like to be mine?” You looked up in shock. “Yes.” you crawled closer to Minho and hugged him.

“Your stuck with me now Lee.”

Seo Changbin

GIF by strayteensehun-blog

The two of you sat inside his studio writing lyrics. Every time you looked at Changbin you felt butterflies in your stomach. Right now you couldn’t help it, you were staring at the boy and without realizing it you were drawing him. Once you looked at the paper again and back to earth you were a bit shocked.

Changbin noticed the staring and sat closer to you. “What do you have already.” You were quickly moving the notebook so he couldn’t look. “It’s a secret.” Both you and Changbin were now in a playful fight, since he wanted to know what was in the notebook. In the end Changbin won and got a hold of book. 

Your face was red when Changbin looks though it, he smirks at the drawing with hearts around it. “You like me? Yes, I can see it in your face. Well lucky you. I like you too. But one thing you need to know is your drawing is amazing and it’s mine.” He carefully rips the page out of it and put in it in his notebook so it wouldn’t get damaged.

Hwang Hyunjin

GIF by prodskz

After the accident from a few months ago. You and Hyunjin were practically stuck to the hip from that moment. Always practicing new dances together.

“Y/n, JYP-Nim asked some of us idols to compete within a dancing competition. And I want to ask you if you want to be mine dance partner. I still have some other background dancers but I want you to be mine main one.” You nod at him. “Sure. What’s the theme?” 

“Love songs.” there was a moment of quiet in room. “Right, let’s start learning the dance right?”

Now nearly a week as passed. You had a small break and watched Hyunjin. “You look really hot doing that.” What could you possible lose right? Hyunjin turns around in shock. “Hyunjin, I think I like you. More then I probably should.”

Hyunjin smiles. “I like you two. I guess this dance really brought us closer.” He walks towards you and kissed your head. “Now I put more love within the dance. It would look so realistic.”

Han Jisung

GIF by lees-minho

The two were best friends ever since you were seated next to him. This even went to the point of sharing a dorm room together. You were laying on your bed while Jisung was sitting at the desk.

“Sung, I’m bored.” You complained as you rolled to watch him. Jisung lets out a sigh. “You could study, the test week is coming up.” Now it was your turn to sigh. “Fine, let’s date.” 

“Sure.” You weren’t actually thinking about what he said, but before you even knew it Jisung laid on top of you. “Your heavy! What are you even doing?” You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m cuddling my bored significant other.” You finally realized what Jisung was talking about seconds ago. 

“I really thought you meant that were going out, in like you know getting some fresh air. But I do like you too Sung.” 

Lee Felix

GIF by kim-woojins

Today was prom night. You got a cute outfit which matched with Felix’ one. As you were doing the last bit of preparation a car rolled on the driveway and within a few minutes the doorbell rang. Luckily your mom was a savior for opening the door as you nearly fell of the stair because you were busy with one to many things. 

“Mr. Lee, you look amazing.” Your mom said smiling at Felix. “Y/n is there.” Your mom went out of the way and Felix and you made eye contact. “Wow.” was all that came out of Felix’ mouth. You smiled shyly and grab all you needed. “I’m ready Lix.” Felix grabs your hand and pulls you with him. “Mr and Mrs y/l/n, don’t worry. I’ll make sure y/n will safe with me.” With that the both of you got into the car going to the prom venue.

“Y/n, I actually wanted to ask you this at the end. But I can’t help it to ask you now. Will you be mine?” Felix asked as he looks you before you went into the venue. “Yes.” You both hugged and went inside to have the best time of your lives.

Kim Seungmin

GIF by hyyunjinn

You had been talking to Seungmin a lot. Even your fan noticed, to the point of them shipping the two of you.

Seungmin was in the practice room when the members of Day6 bursted in with you behind them. “We all decided that Seungmin you would officially be our little brother. Since your dating our little sister.” Jae said as he walked in, startling the poor boy. 

Seungmin looks up confused. “I didn’t know you had a little sister and I’m not dating anybody.” Jae rolls his eyes, while Sungjin took over. “Well you spend a lot of time with y/n. Including skin ship. And don’t forget that millions are shipping the two of you.” You stood there embarrassed, trying to stop them. But it was no use as Brian back hugs you. 

“Seungmin, I’m sorry I tried to stop them.” You yelled before Brian covers your mouth. Dowoons face lightens up. “Well if your not dating. How about confessing, cause I’m getting tired of listening to y/n talking about you.”

Your face turned red, as Seungmin’s did the same. “Okay, what could I actually lose. Y/n I really like you,  accept me as your boyfriend.” You could just nod your head. Brian lets you go and push you towards Seungmin. “You two love birds have some fun!”

Yang Jeongin

GIF by bxngchannie

You and Jeongin became great friends after the first coffee ‘date’. To the point the two of you couldn’t help and do those ‘dates’ more often.

Right now you were already waiting for two hours and you were pissed. You understood he was busy, but a text couldn’t be that hard right? You stood up, paid for the drinks you bought and left to go home, only sending him one text. “I wasted two hours of my life because of you.”

Jeongin in the meantime had practice, but things didn’t go as planned as they were already three hours longer busy with the dances. Chan noticed the tired and stressed faces and dismissed them. That’s when Jeongin realized he forgot about you. “Channie-hyung, please help. I messed up big time.”

The doorbell rang, you looked in the mirror and try to make yourself to look a bit descent, before opening the door. As you opened it, the first thing you saw was a bouquet of flowers. Then Jeongin came behind the flowers. “I’m so sorry y/n. I never meant to ditch you. Practice turned out to be longer and I totally forgot to text you about it. Please accept these gifts.”

You grabbed the bouquet out of his hands and put them on a vase, when you turned to Jeongin again he holds a bag in front of you. You saw a piece of paper, teddy bear and some sweets in there.

The paper said. “Please date me.” You read the letters on the paper a few times before hugging him while saying yes.

[qqueenofhades]

Hey! I just found your blog and followed yesterday. Came for the fact that you're the only other person in this webbed site actually say out loud that they liked Biden, stayed for the hope and determination and perspective. Anyway just wanted to introduce myself and I hope you're coping well!

Hello and welcome to you and the other sudden flood of followers that I got after yesterday's event. I'm glad to have you and hope you are all in on the project of Kicking Fascism In The Shriveled Testicles 2024, American Edition. It's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it.

Biden was not my first choice (far from it) in the 2020 primary process, but when it became clear that he was going to win the nomination, I supported him early and often. Trust me, this was not a popular position, and it remains so, but so be it. By any reasonable metric, he is the most progressive president we have ever had, it is a crying shame that the media is so beholden to the Trump Teat of Drama that they gave him such a kid-gloved free pass and ratfucked Biden instead, and it makes me worry, a lot, for American democracy. I have always gotten a lot of "you support everything Biden has done so you're awful and going to hell!!!" messages, because this sure is a Webbed Site Where We Piss On the Poor, and like -- I don't. I had major disagreements with Biden, especially on foreign policy! But because I apparently did not performatively self-flagellate myself in every post about how awful he was but maybe I guess vote for him anyway, that got some people very mad! It's also true that there's literally nobody in the world anywhere, especially and including in Palestine, that would benefit from Trump becoming president again! Especially since Biden at the NATO summit recently and explicitly endorsed progress on the ceasefire framework he has been pushing for several months! So unfortunately, we live in a society where shitty choices are necessary, and that is part of being a grownup!

....anyway. Deep breaths. Rant for later. Glad you're here. I have been desperately trying to Not Politic for a bit, since doing so on social media in the year of our lord 2024 is a recipe for swift insanity, but the world keeps taking a large dump directly on those plans, and I guess someone's gotta do it. In more normal times (OH LORD WHEN), you can expect history (I am an academic by trade), random posts, various asks, and sometimes a great deal of fanfic for assorted blorbos, though the Horrors have done a number on that and I am also working on an original fantasy trilogy at the moment. (Still deciding whether I should bother trying to agent it or just publish it on Amazon/Lulu/etc.) I have turned off anon for the moment because otherwise my inbox would be a nightmare beyond comprehension, but I do generally enjoy talking about things and/or answering them as much as I can. I am old, queer, tired, fueled by coffee and spite, have been politically conscious since the first Bush Jr. term and have therefore seen all the Anti Voting nonsense before (quick thought: if it was going to deliver the perfect Leftist Messiah and/or stop a flawed candidate from becoming president, don't you think it would have done so by now?) So yes. Welcome again and I hope you will enjoy (if that is the right word for it) your stay.

[buckychristwrites]

About You | Day 5 | j.t.

Summary: Your job? Pop culture journalist for The Independent. Your assignment? To write a profile on the cocky footballer that you're publicly feuding with.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Cussing. Enemies to lovers

A/N: Let me know what you think! :)

Masterlist | About You Masterlist | Main Blog

“Oh, sorry!”

Your face was contorted in guilt as you watched the lady who was just smacked with the front door of your apartment building scurry away, giving you one last glare before disappearing down a side street. Was it because you were rushing out the door? Was it just because she was an old bat? It was hard to say. But you knew that you’d continue to feel bad about it for the rest of the day.

Shaking off the negative feeling that incident left behind, you turned down the sidewalk and made your way down the sidewalk.

It was a beautiful day, the sun shining down for the first time in 3 days. It was welcome. As the rays kissed your skin, you closed your eyes as if soaking them in. Popping your headphones in, you shuffled your music and continued to walk. The sidewalk wasn’t as crowded today as it normally was, and it made the journey all the more pleasant. 

“Oi!”

You continued to walk with a slight sway in your step. The crosswalk sign changed to stop just as you approached. A dog on a leash walked by, stopping to smell your shoes. You watched with a smile as he and his owner walked off. 

Over the sound of your music, you thought you could hear your name being called. You began to glance around. Was your name actually being called? Or was it something in the song? The answer was confirmed when you heard it again, this time much louder than before. 

Turning, you spotted Jamie. He was quite a distance away, jogging with one drink in each hand. When you noticed you looking, he raised his hands up in the air. The smile he donned was so wide that you couldn’t help but return it. A man tried to sidestep him, but Jamie accidentally ran into him anyway.

“Sorry, mate,” He said, looking more annoyed than apologetic as he caught up to you. He deeply inhaled and exhaled sharply before meeting your eye once more.

“‘Mornin’.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Did you get tired of being a menace to other drivers and decide to torture the pedestrians?” He let out a faux laugh.

“Hilarious, you are.” You glanced around, still in disbelief.

“How do you remember where I live?” You asked in astonishment. He shrugged, as if this was a completely normal thing to occur. 

“Just followed the way I drive to the pitch,” He said. “I always see ya walkin’.” He lifted up one of the cups. “I got you a… coffee?” It was more of a question, as if he took a wild guess at what you would want. 

“I’m more of a tea drinker…” Quickly, he handed you the cup in the opposite hand. You were awestruck as you stared at the cup before taking it from him. He really bought one of each because he would rather buy two drinks than buy you nothing. You accepted the cup and brought it to your mouth.

“I picked one that I like,” He admitted, sounding sheepish. “Hope it’s alright.” 

“It’s great.” And it really was. You smiled at him. “You really didn’t have to do this.” He shrugged.

“‘S what mates are for, innit?” 

You bit your lip, but the smile still broke through. 

“So we’re mates then?” 

This question seemed to catch him off guard, and he slowly began to walk in the direction of the pitch. 

“Well, yeah,” He answered. “Ya know too much about me now. Have to keep an eye on ya to make sure you don’t go blabbin’ to everyone.” You caught up so you were walking next to him, the two of you hogging the whole sidewalk. 

“Well, there goes my whole plan.” 

It was a nice invasion of your morning. The tea was excellent, and it made you want to ask Jamie what shop he bought it from. He had his hood up in hopes to not be recognized as he drank his coffee. You wondered what that was like, to always be in hiding. Being a journalist gave you the privilege of being forever unrecognised. While your picture was published along with the article, people rarely paid any attention to it. In return, you didn’t have to worry about people bothering you in the streets or having to walk around in disguise. 

Your train of thought was interrupted when a hand was pressed into your side, pulling you over.

“Watch it.” 

Suddenly, you were standing in front of Jamie, and when you looked over, a bicyclist sped passed, a glare sent your way in his wake. Jamie’s hand was still holding you as you gathered yourself, his fingers brushing a patch of bare skin that was exposed from your riding up shirt.

“Where’d your head go?” He asked. “Almost killed ya.” You shook your head quickly before taking a step away from him.

“Sorry, I just… lost myself in thought, I guess.” You started walking again, and though his hand was back at his own side, the ghost of his touch long lingered. 

Silence fell over the two of you again as the journey to Nelson Road continued. You were taking care to put some extra distance between yourself and Jamie. You couldn’t explain it. Just because you and him were friends now, that wasn’t an open invitation to get all handsy. If fate calls for a bike to kill you, who is he to stop it? No, he should keep his hands to himself. 

Rounding the corner in front of you came a small child who was hand in hand with his father. The hoodie was not enough to fool him, for the small boy began jumping up and down and pointing to Jamie. His father froze as his cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson. He pulled his son over to the side and kneeled down to calm him, at least that’s what you assumed was happening. It clearly didn't work, because the boy broke free of his father’s grip and ran up to Jamie. 

“You’re Jamie Tartt!” He exclaimed, still bouncing up and down. “Legend! You’re my favourite footballer!”

The father ran over at top speed and had an obvious apology being loaded up. But with a raised hand and a gentle smile, Jamie stopped him before lowering down to one knee so he was eye level with the boy. 

“You wanna be a footballer?” He asked in the friendliest tone you’d ever heard from him. The kid frantically shook his head, more star struck than he had been before. It was at this moment, as Jamie pulled a marker from his pocket, that you noticed the boys Richmond jersey. “What position do you play?” 

“A striker! Just like you!” The child didn’t miss a beat. Jamie laughed as he signed his shirt without even being asked. You glanced over at the father, who also looked just as in awe as his son. 

“You keep practicin’ and you’ll be better than me,” Jamie told him, giving his hair a shake before standing up and holding his hand out for the father. “Take care, mate.” The man stared at the hand for just a second too long, but still managed to reach up and grab it, profusely thanking Jamie for his kindness.

“Bye, Jamie Tartt!” The boy shouted as they walked off. In the distance, you could hear him singing Jamie’s chant. Plastered to the back of his little jersey was the number 9 with the name Tartt across the top. 

It wasn’t until another thirty seconds had passed and Jamie looked over at you that you realized you had been staring at him.

“What?”

You whipped your head forward, giving him a terse smile before continuing the walk to work.

“Nothing.”

Keeley Jones stood in the car park of the stadium, scrolling on her phone when the both of you arrived. When she caught sight of you and Jamie approaching, her expression lit up.

“Hiya!” She exclaimed, skipping over. “How’s the profile going?”

“It’s been going rather well, actually,” You said as you looked at Jamie for validation. He met your eye and nodded. 

“Very good.”

This made her look incredibly pleased, and you wondered how such a small person could contain so much positivity. Every time you saw her, she looked like she was ready to burst with love and happiness.

She turned to you briskly. “You’re coming to the Gala next week, yeah?” 

You nodded.

“I have a press pass,” You told her. Jamie turned towards you, eyebrows raised. 

“I didn’t know you were comin’,” He said. You scrunched up your face slightly in disbelief at his remark.

“They can’t have me doing a profile on one of Richmond’s players and not have me go to Richmond’s Gala.”

Richmond’s first ever Charity Gala was a new event that was Keeley’s idea, but was pushed by Rebecca. The point was for all of the club’s shareholders and sponsors to show up for an evening of dancing, food, entertainment, and most importantly, donating to the charity of choice. This year, the money would benefit homeless youth, although you couldn’t for the life of you remember the name of the organization. From your understanding, the event was being held at the Nelson Road stadium, but what you couldn’t figure out was where exactly they could possibly hold it. It was tempting to ask Keeley, since she brought it up, but the surprise of it all was also quite exciting.

“Don’t you think it’s a weird idea to have a Gala with lots of drinking the night before a match?” You asked the two of them. Keeley waved you off.

“They’ll play better after a relaxing night, in my opinion,” She informed you. Did you think that was a good strategy? By absolutely no means. But her and Rebecca worked very hard, so you didn’t say anything more.

“Well, I’ve got to go,” She said. “Rebecca and I have a lot of details to iron out before then. See you guys later!” She flashed one more smile before scurrying off inside. You and Jamie followed in the same direction at a considerably lower speed.

“You bringin’ anyone to the Gala?” He asked. The question caught you off guard. Why are you feeling so bashful all of a sudden?

“Oh, erm, no,” You told him. “Press passes don’t allow for a plus one.” Pause. “Not that I’d have anyone to bring if it did.” He nodded in understanding. He reached the door first, holding it open for you before following you in. You glanced at him before quickly looking forward again. “You?”

“Me what?”

“Are you bringing anyone?”

He scoffed. “No. Definitely not.” 

His answer, both the answer itself and the way he said it, surprised you.

“Why not?” 

“Don’t have anyone to ask,” He said. “Not anyone I’d want to spend a whole evenin’ with.” Now it was your turn to scoff.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of great ladies that you could ask and have an amazing time with.” 

When you looked over, the goofy smile on your face was instantly wiped away. He was staring at the floor, his expression unreadable. Before you could ask him about the change, he crossed into the changing room, which was as loud as ever with voices and laughter. Like the flip of a switch, Jamie plastered a smile on his face and enthusiastically greeted his teammates, who greeted him with the same vigour. Sinking onto the bench in front of his locker, you pulled out your notepad.

The Richmond team brings out a sort of happiness in Tartt that you don’t see anywhere else.

“How can ya already have notes to write? We just got here!” Jamie said as he flopped down next to you, pulling his hoodie over his head. 

“I’m clearly taking notes about all the naked men in here.” He looked aghast, pressing a hand to his chest..

“The only naked man you should be takin’ notes on is me. Look at all this.” He pulled the undershirt off to reveal his bare torso.

“Oh yes,” You said mockingly as you pretended to study him and take more notes. “‘Jamie Tartt’s biceps are bigger than a teenager’s head and could easily crack a watermelon.’” You came off as coy, but all of this was to distract from the fire that was roasting in your cheeks.

“There ya go,” He said with a playful smile. “Give the people what they want.” You continued with the game.

“‘Tartt’s abs are sculpted with the same look of bread buns, fresh out of the oven, and every woman in a 150 metre radius wishes they had kneaded them.’”

“Change it to 300 metres and you got it.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Shall we make it an even 500 metres, just to be sure?” 

He snapped his fingers and pointed at you.

“Now you’re thinkin’ like a real writer.” 

The whiplash you got when you thought of how quickly things turned around with Jamie was indescribable. If someone had told the you from a week ago, hell even 4 days ago, that you would be sitting around with Jamie Tartt, laughing and making jokes, you would’ve probably spit in their face. But here you were, laughing with him as if you had known him for years. 

When the coaches entered, you flipped to a blank sheet of paper. Jamie pulled a hoodie over his head. When you looked around, you noticed that the whole team seemed to be wearing the same one.

“Match against Chelsea is in two days' time,” Roy reminded everyone. “We’ll have one more practise today, and then tomorrow will be to rest and prepare.” You leaned towards Jamie.

“You guys don’t practise right before a match?” He shook his head, speaking in a low voice.

“It's a new strategy. Game day eves are for relaxin’ and restin’.”

It didn’t really clarify anything, but you didn’t want to get yelled at again, so you straightened back up and let it go. 

Practice was pretty straightforward. They ran drills. They ran plays. Roy Kent yelled. Coach Beard shrieked. Nate Shelley stayed (mostly) silent. When late afternoon hit, they decided it was time to throw in the towel. The team filed into the changing room.

“Remember,” Roy Kent said in a warning tone. “You all better fuckin’ rest tomorrow or I’ll rip your testicles out through your mouth.” Even when the coaches had disappeared into their office, you continued to stare in the direction of the door.

“I would love to spend a day with Roy and a therapist, just to hear what goes on in that brain of his,” You said to Jamie, shaking your head. Jamie patted your shoulder.

“You and me both, darlin’.”

You didn’t even dignify that with a response.

The team all walked out together, making jokes and laughing as they always did. As they parted in the car park, there was a chorus of See you laters and Have a good day offs.

“Make sure to relax, lads,” Isaac’s voice echoed over the crowd. Everyone agreed before breaking to head to their cars. 

“Can I walk ya home?”

You turned to Jamie, whose body was already turned towards the direction that you’d go to head home. A smile crept onto your face, filling your cheeks.

“You don’t have to do that,” You said as you approached him. He raised his hands up, giving you a look.

“I don’t have to do anythin’.” His hands dropped back to his sides. “I offered ‘cos I want to.” You nodded. 

“I know.”

The sun was low in the sky, surrounded by orange and purple hues. You stared at the colours that painted the world above you, your heart at ease. Jamie looked over at you, his eyes following your gaze towards the sky.

“You never told me your favourite time of day,” He pointed out. You glanced at him before looking upwards once more.

“This,” You said, gesturing around you. “The sunset.” 

“What makes it any different than a sunrise?” 

“The colours are different, obviously.” Which was true. In your opinion, the colours of a sunset were deeper, while sunrises were more pastel. You took a beat to give it more thought. “It’s a beautiful ending, no matter how wonderful or horrific a day is. You always get a beautiful ending. Even when the clouds cover them, you know the colours are there above them.” Pause. “It’s like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.”

The feeling of him staring at you made you nervous, but you didn’t look at him at all. 

“So what’s a sunrise then?” He asked you. 

“Seeing the positive in every single day. Knowing it has the potential to be good, even if you have no way of knowing.” 

He smiled, eyebrows furrowed together.

“Now you’re just makin’ things up.” 

“You’re just not using your imagination,” You told him, laughing despite it. He was laughing too. 

“I’d love to see the good in every single day,” He admitted as the two of you stopped at a crosswalk. “But on a day when we lost a game, or I feel a wee bit off, it’s hard to come back from that.” 

The light changed, and the two of you began to cross.

“What happens in your head when bad things happen?” You asked him. A blush filled his cheeks as he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before answering.

“I… erm.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I hear me dad’s voice, tellin’ me I’m a failure. Or that I don’t deserve to have a good day anyway. Stuff like that.” The pain in his expression was apparent. It was heartbreaking that his father’s abuse haunted him so much.

“Where is he?” You asked him. “Your dad.”

“He’s sober now, still livin’ in Manchester. I see ‘im sometimes.” He sighed. “I’m happy he’s not a drunk anymore. But it’s still hard to forget everythin’ he did to me.” 

A car driving in the opposite direction of the pair of you blared its horn, the passengers hanging out of the windows to give Jamie a wave and to yell encouraging words about the upcoming match. Jamie gave them a wave before tiredly dropping his arm back down, the smile instantly disappearing from his face.

“You being happy for and loving your dad while also being angry with him for what he’s done to you are two things that can both be true,” You reminded him. He shook his head.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does,” You argued. “Him being sober now doesn’t erase the pain he caused in the past and the trauma you still have ingrained in you. But you obviously still have love for him, despite all that.” He was pulling at his fingers in anxiety. You watched him.

“Have you ever gone to therapy about this?” He laughed, though it didn’t have much humour in it. 

“I saw Dr. Sharon for a few sessions before she left,” He admitted. “But I haven’t talked to anyone since.” 

“You should consider finding a new one.”

He eyed you.

“And what will ya do when I can’t talk to you about this stuff anymore ‘cos I talked it all out with a professional?” 

You were about to respond with something along the lines that then he’d be a normal person to talk to, but you stopped, your chest filled with melancholy. 

“It won’t matter in a few days, will it?” 

He froze, the smile slowly slipping away from his face until it was replaced with a frown. Fingers running through his hair, his eyes dropped to the ground as if he couldn’t look at you anymore. As if it was painful to do so.

“I guess it won’t.”

The building was suddenly in front of you, and you turned to him with your hands behind your back. 

“This is me.” 

He nodded.

“How ya gonna spend your day off?” He asked. You shrugged. 

“I’ll probably get started on writing this article,” You said with a sigh. “The best and worst part of my job is the part where I have to write.” He gave you a half grin.

“Isn’t that the majority of your job?” 

“Yes,” You said with a fake sad tone. “Yes, indeed it is.” He shook his head as he smiled, looking around at the buildings surrounding. You did the same. 

“I guess I’ll see you at the match, then,” You said. He nodded, almost looking sad. He gave you a quick salute, which you returned, before turning and heading off down the sidewalk. Suddenly, you took a step forward.

“Jamie!” 

He spun around so quickly, you were surprised he didn’t fall. You didn’t really have anything to say, honestly. You just really weren’t ready for him to leave. When you were quiet after a few seconds, he took a step towards you.

“Yeah?”

“What is your go-to karaoke song?” His expression fell into deep thought as his fingers gripped his chin. After a few seconds, the lightbulb seemed to go off in his brain. 

“Probably somethin’ by Robbie Williams.” He lifted a finger, pointing at you. “But nothin’ by Take That. Solo Robbie Williams only.” You laughed, shaking your head as you began to turn towards your building. 

“Noted.” You smiled at him once more. “Goodnight, Jamie.” He smiled back, one of the widest you’d ever seen from him.

“G’night.”

Letting yourself into the building, you pressed your back against the wall, taking a deep breath before pulling out your phone. The goofy smile was still plastered to your face as you typed out a text and hit send, feeling deeply satisfied and elated when the message said Delivered.

When you got back upstairs, you dropped your phone and purse onto the couch before heading to the bathroom. 

Your phone was still open, displaying the text you had just sent to your boss.

I’ll be taking another week at Richmond. x

[yatagarasuhonyaku]

The Raven of the Empty Coffin: Prologue

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. The events of this novel follow after what's already covered by the anime. For an easier understanding, I recommend first reading the few scenes of previous books I've already translated.

Blog version

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

As the outer(1) books say: you shall know of the unbending reed in a gale, learn of the perennial tree in the heavy frost, and observe the great mountain in the storm.

Understand the strength of the grass that will not bend when the gale blows, of the tree that will not yield even when the frost falls, of the mountain that will not collapse when the storm rages.

In a peaceful land, many are those whose loyalty is no more than empty words; and few are the ones who act to prove their fealty in times of upheaval. It is only in troubled times when those truly loyal first become apparent.

Hence, I shall concede this place the name of Unbending Reed Monastery, as it is to become the place of learning for those in possession of genuine loyalty.

“The Golden Raven(2) Bestowing Unbending Reed Monastery Its Name”, from “Chronicles of the Temples of Yamauchi”

Prologue

“Hey, have you heard? It sounds like an unbelievable ‘monster’ is joining us this year.”

The rumors first reached him in the morning, the very same day the new trainees were scheduled to arrive.

“What do you mean by ‘monster’?”

“As in someone strong?”

Faced with the questions of a skeptical breakfast-eating crowd, the rumormonger answered. “That much I can’t say, but he seems to be the son of a very distinguished family. He outranks everyone here at the Monastery for sure.”

Oh, no wonder then, was the immediate general consensus. Nobody around the haphazardly placed four-legged trays, filled with an assortment of food, seemed to question it any further.

“I was thinking that the people from the Center seemed weirdly nervous lately. So that was the reason, huh.”

“Well, if they mess things up, they're going to lose all their privileges to the newcomer.”

“Eh, not like they need to mess anything up for that, you know? There’s no way they’ll be able to push people around anymore, not like they did before at least.” After all, they didn't have any talent whatsoever beyond their social status. Assuming a student with a higher rank did actually arrive, it would force them into paying court to him instead. 

“Ridiculous,” Ichiryuu spat out in a low voice, in quite the contrast to his fellow students’ excitement. He had been listening with great interest at first, curious about this ‘unbelievable monster’, but in the end it was all complete rubbish. 

“What's wrong, Ichiryuu?” One of his friends, who had somehow heard him complain, turned to him and asked.

Ichiryuu made a show out of snorting.

“As far as we know, the only thing he has going for him is his rank. To call someone like that a ‘monster’? It makes me laugh. We are warriors,” he added, a frown on his face as he looked around the room, “no matter how high your birth, it means nothing if you lack the skill with a sword. We really should leave the ‘monster’ talk for when we see his performance at the dojo.”

The Unbending Reed Monastery, the institution Ichiryuu and the others belonged to, was the training facility for the Yamauchi Guard: the organization in charge of protecting the Imperial Family. 

The role of commanding the country and leading the Yatagarasu fell on the Golden Raven, who took residence in Central Mountain and the Imperial Court built inside of it, and protecting the Mountain and its surroundings from any harm was the job of the Feather Grove Heavenly Hosts(3).

Meanwhile, the Yamauchi Guard’s one and only job was to keep the Imperial Family—the Golden Raven's relatives—safe. Furthermore, while the Feather Grove had a Great General at the top, the Yamauchi Guard only took direct orders from the Imperial Family members they personally served.

The Guard was an elite organization; its warriors’ skill was leagues above the rest. As the position did of course come with matching privileges, it was stipulated that all members had to overcome the harsh training of the Unbending Reed Monastery. Your social status did not matter, only talent was required— at least in theory. A long time had passed since the last time that had actually been true.

Ichiryuu's words were born out of frustration towards his fellow trainees’ obsession with bloodlines. The other trainees, however, looked at him as if he had just grown three heads.

“What’s up with him? Did he eat something bad from the ground?”

“No, no, you got it wrong. He wants to be the cool senior, you see, so he's putting on airs already.”

“Just let him be,” people concluded in whispers, just loud enough for Ichiryuu to hear it all.

“You little—” Ichiryuu moved as if to stand up, but he was cut short by the rumormonger, who had just raised both his arms.

“Now, now, calm down, Ichiryuu. I wouldn't call someone a monster either just because they have high status. I have another good reason,” he said with a knowing smile. “Apparently, this newcomer was Wakamiya's close aide before this.”

“Wakamiya's close aide!?”

“Wait, is that true?”

“Now that's amazing!”

The trainees, their eyes wide open, started a ruckus. Wakamiya was the title of the Crown Prince, referring to the man that would one day shoulder all of Yamauchi. To be his close aide was a near guarantee to become one of the next Golven Raven's trusted vassals and hence seize power in the Imperial Court in the future. There was no mistaking it: this ‘monster' had one of the brightest futures possible for all Yatagarasu already promised to him.

“...... But, isn't that weird? He could have just joined the Imperial Court directly, why bother to come to the Monastery of all places?” someone said, skeptical.

Ichiryuu found himself frowning. As the Imperial Court stood at the moment, the On'i System was there to guarantee a rank fitting to their birthright for any noble. If Wakamiya had grown fond of someone with a low enough status then, yes, it would make some sense to send him to the Monastery so he could get a promotion through official means. However, this rumored ‘monster’ was supposed to be from the high nobility.

“Apparently, His Highness said that using the On'i System would be a waste of his talents, or something like that.”

“Really? It’s not like there’s any guarantee he'll even manage to graduate from the Monastery.”

The trainees, who knew better than anyone how brutal training at the Unbending Reed Monastery was, all exchanged glances at once.

“Well, there’s no way for us to know right now. No matter how talented they say he is, that's just by the standards of a Central Noble, am I wrong?”

“But, if the rumors are true and he has both the physical strength and the status, then that's truly a total monster.”

“Whatever, we should be fine as long as he isn't some snotty ass brat.”

While Ichiryuu's fellow trainees were all busy discussing the news animatedly, he stayed silent, too busy ruminating on the information he had just been given. The young son of an important noble family, and Wakamiya's close aide. He could have been given a high rank at the Court with no effort whatsoever, yet he still chose to come to Unbending Reed Monastery. Plus, he was young enough to join in the first place.

With a soft thump, the face of a certain boy came to mind.

——No. It couldn't be him, right?

After a moment, Ichiryuu shook his head. It was impossible. He made a point to take that image, that devious smile hiding under an airheaded facade, off his mind. After all, that guy had said so, hadn't he? That there was no way he was attending the Monastery, that he had no plans to enter the Imperial Court. It was the exact reason Ichiryuu had chosen to become a trainee.

As if to shake off the terrible feeling that had just overcome him, Ichiryuu scarfed down the white rice that remained in his bowl.

After breakfast, his entire group went to the dojo. Spring Break was yet to end, so morning training wasn't mandatory. And so, after a few light drills between those who had come on their own, they all set off to the nearby watering hole to clean off their sweat.

Then, at that precise moment—

“Hey, a newcomer has already arrived!” A fellow trainee, who had gone slightly ahead of the rest, called to them. Ichiryuu's group raised their voices in excitement.

“He sure is fast.”

“Is he truly a newcomer?”

“Most likely yes, and he's coming by flying carriage.”

A mode of transportation only available to the high nobility, it was kept in the air by huge horses. This had to be it. The so-called ‘monster’ that had everyone talking in the morning. Upon this realization, the group started to rush over there. Ichiryuu was in less of a hurry, still incapable of shaking off that bad feeling about the ‘monster'. His steps were heavy as he took his time with each one.

By the time he, the very last one to arrive, finally caught up with the rest, his friends were all crammed behind the azalea bushes, getting a look at their junior.

“I see. He arrived early to move all his furniture.”

“Look at that, he’s bringing so much luggage. I only brought a wrapping cloth worth of stuff with me.”

“And look where he's going too, isn't that the newest dormitory room?”

“The instructors must have gone out of their way to keep him happy.”

As his friends kept on with the half-mocking, half-joking remarks, Ichiryuu was busy thinking. As far as he knew, the person he thought of as the potential ‘monster’ was not the kind to enjoy luxury. Yet, still with fear in his heart, Ichiryuu took a look over the others’ shoulders at the teenager in question.

He first saw his back, his shoulder raised all high and mighty under the cherry blossoms in full bloom. His outfit shined impressively under the sunlight: it was a deep red, covered in white embroidery.

The servants kept on carrying his luggage, but the boy didn't move: he simply stood there imposingly. Instead, he gave them instructions with his folding fan, dyed into a light purple gradient with gold leaf speckles all over. His hair was a glossy reddish brown and neatly brushed.

The boy then turned around to talk with the servants, and Ichiryuu finally caught sight of his face. He was handsome, more than anyone he had ever seen before. His skin was the color of newly blossomed white peonies under dusk, his big eyes shone like reflections on a pond, and his face was soft like that of a woman. The boy was not only beautiful, but also had clear charisma. He was the kind that drew people in naturally, overflowing with pride and confidence.

If one of those poets from the Court had been here, his beauty would have called for a poem or two.

Not like any of that mattered to Ichiryuu, who was too busy experiencing relief. The so-called ‘close aide’ standing there wasn't that guy. Thank goodness, it wasn't him! The second he realized, his mood immediately lifted as if it had never dropped in the first place. 

“What a face.”

“Well, nobles only take beauties as concubines, you see.”

“Dammit, wouldn’t it be nice if he fell on his face or something.”

Meanwhile, his friends were still watching the boy and whispering to each other. In stark contrast to them, however, Ichiryuu left the place behind with the lightest of hearts.

Once he had cleaned himself, Ichiryuu went on to his newly assigned dormitory room in the second building, tenth room. It would be his castle for the following year.

The trainees at Unbending Reed Monastery had to overcome three trials, one per year, through their education there. There was a proverb preserved in ancient documents that said as such: ‘you shall know of the unbending reed in a gale, learn of the perennial tree in the heavy frost, and observe the great mountain in the storm.’

It’s when the gales blow that the sturdy grass proves itself. The trees too prove their resilience by surviving the harsh frost, and so it's in times of genuine struggle that the truly strong become clear. The monastery based its trials on it, and thus they were referred to as the Trial of Gale, the Trial of Frost, and the Trial of Storm.

During their first year, trainees were referred to as Seeds(4), as they still had yet to even germinate. It was once they passed the Trial of Gale at the end of the year that they transitioned to Saplings. The Trial of Frost awaited them a year later, and those who managed to pass it would reach their last year and become Evergreens.

Although plenty of seeds sprout, few get to become fully grown trees. In this manner, very few trainees ever became Evergreens. On top of that, those Evergreens also had to overcome the harshest of the tests, the Trial of Storm, and get good enough results to even qualify for the Yamauchi Guard.

Of the three trainee categories, only Evergreens had their own individual rooms. Seeds and Saplings had to share one single tiny room in groups of three. In most cases, this meant one Sapling and two Seeds, with the Sapling in charge of the room, overseeing his juniors, and mentoring them about the fundamentals of life at the Monastery.

For the Seeds, this was a massive problem.

About half of the Seeds resigned every year without ever becoming Saplings and, while a part of the reason was the brutality of the Trial of Gale, social dynamics were often the actual cause. Ichiryuu considered himself fortunate in that regard, but even he struggled with it. To become a Sapling and not have to worry about the seniors’ mood had been a relief, and he was also looking forward to having juniors.

Being told he was ‘playing up the cool senior’ may have pissed him off, but thinking about it, there was some truth to it. Very soon, it would be time for his juniors to arrive in their shared room.

His nerves were fried, but in an attempt to look a bit more imposing to the newcomers, he chose to sit behind the desk at the back of the room. Finally, the surroundings became more lively, and he soon started to hear the rumble of anxiously chattering boys from the nearby rooms. Just as he was thinking about it, he sensed someone standing in front of the door.

“Excuse me, but is the senior of the tenth room already in the room?” someone said with a clear and booming voice. It was as if he had come to ask for a duel instead.

That caught Ichiryuu by surprise. He had expected a shaky, timid voice at the other side.

“Come in.” 

“Excuse me then,” the voice answered as soon as he gave permission.

And, at the same time, the door opened with a loud thud. On the other side, there was an oonyuudou(5)-like giant, barely even fitting within the door's frame. He paid no mind to a dumbfounded Ichiryuu and immediately attempted to enter the room, proceeding to slam his head against the lintel. The giant stood there wincing in pain for a second, but his expression quickly shifted to a shy smile as he knelt in front of Ichiryuu.

“It's an honor to meet you. My name is Shigemaru, and I'll be under your care here in the tenth room.”

Despite Shigemaru's flawless politeness, he was so big Ichiryuu still found himself looking up. He had healthy tanned skin, and his thick unkempt eyebrows looked like massive caterpillars. His imposing face was somehow countered by a round button nose and jet black eyes, which gave him a very gentle aura instead. He looked like a bear that had everything intimidating taken away from him and was, indeed, a perfectly pleasing young man.

“...... How old are you exactly?”

“Ah, I'll be 18 in two months.”

“Eight… teen.”

To enter the Unbending Reed Monastery, and to become a trainee, you had to be between 15 and 17 years old when joining. For the most part, the children of nobility joined as soon as they reached the minimum age possible, as if they had been waiting for the chance to do so. Those who joined at 17 were nearly always commoners.

Ichiryuu was the son of rural aristocracy so, like most others, he became a Seed at 15. Which put him in a strange situation: he was a senior to an older, much bigger junior. And, just like that, his initial dream of being the confident and dependable mentor to a nervous youth was utterly shattered.

Shigemaru was at least very polite and respectful, a small blessing, but, how to put it… he had something different in mind, something more innocent and pure.

“Ah, well, yes. I'm Ichiryuu, a Sapling. We'll be sharing a room this year, it's nice to meet you,” Ichiryuu said in a panic. He had completely forgotten to introduce himself until just then.

“Ah, yes, I know that much,” Shigemaru replied with a carefree smile, “I'm from Shimaki Township(6), you see. Rumors about the third son of our Lord have reached me before. You have become such a wonderful young man. As one of your subjects, I'm filled with pride.”

So he was from his homeland, which made things even harder for him.

As Ichiryuu was struggling to find a good answer, Shigemaru suddenly turned around to look at something behind him.

“You know him too, don't you?”

It was then that Ichiryuu finally realized the other newcomer was already there too, hidden behind Shigemaru's massive frame. He seemed to be quite tiny. Ichiryuu proceeded to try to fix his pose in a desperate attempt to look imposing, at least for this other one. That’s when he realized.

“Yes, of course.”

——That voice sounded terribly familiar for some reason.

“Of course we know each other, Ichiryuu and I are what one could even call childhood friends. Although, it may be impossible to treat him like before, now that he is our senior. I'm still glad I get to share a room with someone I can trust,” the boy said with a carefree laugh.

Just like that, as soon as he heard his voice, those memories—that he couldn’t forget despite himself—came back to haunt him. The pain ruthlessly inflicted onto him, the endless verbal abuse he went through. And, at the same time, an unflinching smile as if painted on his face and the shrill of that crazed laugh.

All of a sudden, the source of his nightmares leaned out of Shigemaru’s shadow.

His brown, soft-looking hair was held up in a ponytail. His face was quite nondescript, with nothing that truly struck one as characteristic. He looked completely harmless, but those terrifying, cunning eyes betrayed his true nature.

“Long time no see, Ichiryuu. Let me introduce myself again, I am Yukiya of Taruhi. Let’s get along from now on too,” the boy said with a bright smile on his lips.

Ichiryuu screamed in horror.

Next: Chapter 1 "Shigemaru" Part 1

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

1: The original term for Outer Books is 外書, which originally refers to ‘foreign books’ or non-buddhist books. Within the context of the setting and given similar terms used elsewhere, this refers to books written by humans outside Yamauchi.

2: After some consideration and for the sake of narrative clarity later on, all the Raven titles will be fully translated from now on. Those already introduced at this point in the novels are the Golden Raven (Emperor, Kin’u), Scarlet Raven (Empress, Seki’u) and White Raven (Head Priest, Haku’u).

3: The Feather Grove Heavenly Hosts (羽林天軍, read Urin Tengun) are very briefly referred to in The Golden Raven. They’re the Center Army and don’t concern themselves with imperial matters. Their General is always the Northern Lord, so they’re at present controlled by Yukiya’s grandfather: he is the one to send them out in reconnaissance during the Monkeys’ attack.

4: The original terms for Seed, Sapling and Evergreen are as follows: 荳児, using the kanji for bean and child; 草牙, grass and fang (it itself being one radical away from 芽, meaning bud); and 貞木, which is a word to refer to evergreen trees.

5: Oonyuudou are youkai from Japanese folklore, traditionally giants who look like buddhist monks. Given the setting, they may as well truly exist.

6: After much consideration, I’ve switched the term Village as the anime uses it with Township. Townships (郷) in Yamauchi are provinces within a specific Region. Every Region is divided into a total of three Townships, and the Township Lord governs and controls all villages within their territory. The Townships in the North are Shimaki, Taruhi and Shigure.

[ingo-ingoing-ingone]

A Personal Post

Hi guys, I'm finally making the post I kept telling myself and my best friends I'd make but wanted to put it off until I felt better. That hasn't happened and with how things are going I thought it was best to just post it now.

So for a while, since probably late 2023, I've felt less like my blog is for me, and more like it's some kind of fandom archive. Which, if you use it this way as-is, great! I'm glad my blog could make you happy like that! But that's not what I set out for it to be.

I'm the sort of neurodivergent person who likes to categorize things, including my interests. All my tumblr blogs are specific to one thing, and this one was no exception.

I began tagging things soon after I made the blog because I saw a lot of people were sad about the twins, and I thought "well since I love both sad and happy stuff, and I'm really good about categorizing things, maybe I can try and help!" And according to many, it did help!

But I think that also gave off the impression that I was making this blog for other folks, and that isn't the case. I'm sorry I never clarified. It's not an archive; I do not reblog shipping posts, posts from people I've blocked, AUs I don't click with, and sometimes just not everything I see.

I've gotten popular in the fandom, and for the most part I do, from the bottom of my heart, enjoy it. I have people who care about my hyperfixation! That's amazing! I have people who love my cosplay and want to meet up with me. I've made so many friends of all shapes and sizes and it's probably the most incredible thing I've ever experienced, truth be told.

But yeah my blog being mine has gotten away from me a bit, I think.

I want to keep tagging my submas tags, that isn't going to change. I will tag triggers when asked, unless it's kind of impossible due to the blog's subject (trains, for instance) or a name or really common word (like the word 'head' or something). Other than that please reach out and I'll do my best to remember. But other tags? Those will be up to me. I don't want to tag when OCs show up. I love OCs and like seeing them, and don't want to have to remember that one person who visits my blog doesn't.

I had anon off for a while because honestly ever since making this blog, there have been anons who really made me unhappy. (Also yes, non-anons but that's been fewer and far between). I've gotten misinformation, accusations, horrible and disgusting explicit asks, and criticisms and complaints, and I'm just... Not here for that. Keep the explicit things and misinfo out of my inbox, I am no arbiter of morality or personal decisions, and I am not here for you to share your negative opinions of submas or the fandom.

Anon is on for people who are too self conscious to chat face to face, for people to send fun headcanon ideas (remember when people did that back in 2022 when this blog started? I miss that, it was sweet and wholesome), to share song recommendations... That kind of stuff. If you have an actual problem, please, PLEASE talk to me off anon, whether that be DMs or a non-anon ask that I can answer privately. Especially if we're friends; please, please just talk to me about stuff. I don't bite! I swear!

But yeah the bottom line is I'm here to participate in fun (and sometimes heartbreaking!) fandom stuff. I'm here for FUN, not as my job. I know that we're all a bunch of neurodivergent folks and sometimes interactions can be a swing and a miss, but please try to be mindful. Please treat me like a person and not just like a museum curator for this blog.

Truth is, I haven't been okay for a while now. It's gotten worse this year for sure, and due to life stuff I cannot see things feeling better for me for some time. I need to go day by day for a lot of things, and I am trying to get better about needing to set boundaries and all that sort of thing. I suffer from intense paranoia too, and having so many eyes on me is genuinely terrifying at times. I'm trying to manage that as best I can, but I do ask that folks be kind.

NO I am not going anywhere, my blog is staying and will continue on as normal, but I really, really needed to get this posted.

Please continue to interact with me and chat and everything like that! But also please remember to treat this space, my blog, as my space. Thanks for reading!

[charmedreincarnation]

Hey lovely charm!

I haven’t sent an ask to any blog all this time I’m here because I’m trying to avoid negativity and victim mentality, however I’d like to ask this one thing (of course you can ignore this ask if it’s been answered before or you just don’t want to respond, also I’ll throw a TW but there’s nothing really bad on here)

I read the latest success story which actually almost brought tears to my eyes, I’m proud of this person and everyone that managed to get out of their awful and undeserved circumstances!! My question though is that one thing that drives me crazy all this time and it might sound stupid: how do we actually surrender to our imagination?

Is it just believing everything is going to change? Because I think I might be doing something wrong and I don’t know what it is, I’m just tired of waking up and seeing the same awful and dreadful reality. I’m tired crying every night because I’m being “forgotten” even by friends like I don’t exist sometimes. I’m tired “trying” for the void. Every night before I sleep and every morning, even for the whole day, I’m just thinking as if I got it all already, I’m walking to my dreadful 7-3 work but I’m imagining walking in London going to my actual dream job, wearing my dream clothes and having my dream appearance. The problem is that I feel I’m living on a loop, keep doing the things I did before but kind of “dressing them up” with my mind, in my mind. Any advice you have, I hope it’s going to also help out any other kind soul on here that needs it.

Thank you in advance lovely, I follow your blog with devotion and one of these days I’ll send you my success! xx

Hiii 💓I can only speak for myself, but surrendering to imagination for me looked like letting go of the how and the when my desires would appear. And you know it seems kind of stupid at first, I get that. When people used to say that it made me mad,but that was before I actually understood what it meant. I used to think well “If I wanted it in my imagination I’d just daydream” which isn’t even correct because if you’re imagining of your desires instead of from them, it’s the reason you don’t feel fulfilled anyways. But it’s actually a great thing.

When I stopped trying to change the 3D and stopped trying figure out how/why/when my desired would appear and instead remembered I already had them, it got a little easier. I stopped worrying about if my crying would stop my desires from coming to fruition, bc if I already have it in my imagination why would that matter? just because you’re wealthy does that mean you can’t cry lmfao. it didn’t matter what I did, when I got mad I stopped spiraling, I stopped trying to repress my emotions, it got easier and it became more real. That’s when I understood what they meant when they say you don’t want your desires just to be freed from desiring.

The limitless changes didn’t really start until I was Immersed in my imagination, though I had a good amount of conscious “manifestations” before so. But in truth I've always been a maladaptive daydreamer, creating a different reality within my mind. Despite what others and myself perceived as a bland and middling childhood, my inner world was vibrant and full of possibilities. Then I found myself wondering why these vivid daydreams didn't manifest into reality during my childhood. Idk if it was due to my age or lack of conscious awareness of what I was doing.But again I think it was because I was thinking 'of' rather than 'from'.

It’s the imagination that is limitless and why every creation is possible. It really did free me from my doubts I carried here in this plane. In the grand theater of the multiverse, every dream, every desire you've ever had is playing out already since you can see it in your imagination. You can have your dream life - from your appearance and personality to your family, zodiac sign, and even your perfect partner. you can revise and embody the life you want in every aspect, and wake up in a whole new world tomorrow. You can indulge in every spiritual practice you could ever imagine. You can connect with the energy of the universe on such a profound level that you become one with everything around you. You can become the grass under your feet, the stars twinkling in the night sky.

Why? Because you are a limitless being. You are the universe experiencing itself, a manifestation of its infinite creativity. You're not separate from the universe; you are the universe, yet a human at the same time. So what does the 3D have to do with any of that. Yes you’re here and it is real and you will experience the best of love and humanity because of it but first surrender to imagination because that’s where it begins.

“Consciousness is the one and only reality, not figuratively but actually. This reality may for the sake of clarity be likened unto a stream which is divided into two parts, the conscious and the subconscious. In order to intelligently operate the law of consciousness it is necessary to understand the relationship between the conscious and the subconscious. The conscious is personal and selective; the subconscious is impersonal and non-selective. The conscious is the realm of effect; the subconscious is the realm of cause. These two aspects are the male and female divisions of consciousness. The conscious is male; the subconscious is female. The conscious generates ideas and impresses these ideas on the subconscious; the subconscious receives ideas and gives form and expression to them.”(Neville Goddard)

"So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them." (Genesis 1:27)

"And have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator." (Colossians 3:10)

In the realm of imagination, boundaries dissolve. Here, we're not just passive observers; we're active creators, shaping our reality with every thought, feeling, and belief we entertain. This isn't about escaping reality but rather embracing a more expansive view of it.

So, why would you ever limit yourself to the confines of the 3D world? Why not tap into the limitless potential of our imagination, where we are the architects of our own promise. I mean your imagination is your superpower. So, harness it. Dream big, unapologetically feel-deeply, and maintain unwavering faith in your creativity that everyone is born with.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! Your post on facial differences was really helpful and eye-opening. I’m trying to amend the designs of my characters whom I’ve now noticed fall into those harmful tropes, and I was wondering what the opinion on facial tattoos is vis-a-vis stereotyping. Specifically I mean tattoos that are purely aesthetic (not done to cover a scar or anything) and not of any design that would mirror FD - in this case they’re just flowers, on a typical-looking face. (While I don’t want to contribute to erasure by simply removing the character’s scars, they are very necessarily a villain in the story, and I’d rather not contribute to harmful representation instead.) I definitely don’t want to just switch actual FD for FD-coding that does the same nasty job.

I hope you all have a fantastic day and know I’m really grateful for the effort behind this blog and its existence <3

Hey! I'm glad you found the post helpful.

I think that tattoos are completely fine, and making your villain have tattoos instead of a facial difference is a great idea.*

(*Obligatory exception to this statement - please don't switch a villain's FD for tattoos like tā moko or tunniit. That only creates different problems.)

I'm of the opinion that sometimes it's fine to "erase" a particular trait during the character making process if said trait would be harmful or offensive. Personally, I actually prefer that writers un-FD their villains. I do believe that the harm the "evil person with a facial difference" trope brings is greater than the representation that it could.

(Other people might still consider it erasure and disagree with me here. Opinions differ, as they do in every community. But I think that most people will understand why you decided to go with that.)

I appreciate that you're looking for solutions to fix some of the issues you've previously run into - if you have any other concerns or questions, feel free to send another ask (I promise I will try to answer faster than I did with this one, sorry).

Thank you, I hope you have a great day as well.

mod Sasza

[starlightkyeom]

can't run away | vernon

summary: running is the only life you've ever known. running away from your home planet, running away from anyone that gets too close, running away from officials, running from other smugglers. it's not easy but it's better than the pain that comes with staying in place and definitely better than getting caught. everyone has heard of you but nobody actually knows you. the last thing you want is to take on a passenger, especially when that passenger is a robot from one of the most popular groups in the universe. why would you let him stay when nobody else ever has? pairing: ai!vernon x smuggler!afab!reader word count: 15.6k genre: sci-fi au, angst, fluff (?) warnings/content: vernon is an automaton, reader is a smuggler (across the galaxy), references to injury (when vernon escapes, to reader as well), questionable methods of finishing a job (reader), suggestions/implications of sex/hook-ups (reader x unnamed characters), questionable legality on the jobs, exploring emotions for automatons, fights, open/ambiguous ending rating: mature (this is SFW but i prefer only people 18+ interacting with my blog) a/n: thank you so much to @idyllic-ghost for this incredible collab and this banner. i don't think i would've written a sci-fi fic otherwise and it's been so much fun. check out all the other amazing fics here! also thank you to the loml @hot-soop for *volunteering* to read through this fic. you're an angel. finally, thank you to @strawberryya for letting me use your brain and your planet.

“100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other, and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system. Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t. Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be. At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.”

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

“Chirron,” you call and wait for his hum to let you know he’s listening, “we have to go. Like 10 minutes ago.”

“Why don’t you try something helpful?” he shoots back at you. 

“The last time I got near the controls, you slapped my hands and shrieked,” you answer.

“I did not, it was not a shriek,” he hisses. He’s not really offended, it’s just how the two of you are. You’ve run hundreds of jobs together at this point and there’s nobody else you’d trust. And certainly nobody that’s better at getting your ship in the air and away from trouble. “And it was for a good reason. You’re a menace to society and to the controls, specifically.”

“Every button looks the same,” you huff.

“Will you just shut it for 2 seconds so I get us off this awful planet?” Chirron asks.

“Hey, this is my home planet!” you protest. You’re not sure why you’re distracting him like this when you want to leave just as badly as he does. Need to for the sake of your job.

“I swear to…” he says and stops to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just a minute, I’m begging you.”

There’s a retort about begging on the tip of your tongue, something you know will get under Chirron’s skin. Something you know better to say and are going to say anyway. Really, what’s the worst he could do? Except just as you’re about to say it, someone comes rushing in through the open door of your ship.

Chirron seems to register the newcomer, but says nothing. In fact, he goes back to working on one of the control panels that’s currently preventing you from leaving the planet. That leaves you to deal with this new person. Or…no, could he be an automaton? There’s something familiar about him that you can’t quite place. There’s also something that doesn’t scream human about him. Maybe the blue hair or the way he moves through expressions. He looks relieved now even though you’re a complete stranger. 

“Please, help me,” he rushes out, already moving from relief into something else. He reaches out to take your hands in his and you barely have time to register it. “I’m begging you, I’ll do anything.”

Your first instinct is to flatly tell him that you won’t help him, that you can’t. After all, you’re not exactly the type anyone looks to when they need help. A fact Chirron is always quick to point out. But, you also see that this could present an interesting opportunity for someone such as you. And maybe now you can make some begging jokes without getting your head bitten off.

“And just what are you willing to do?” you ask, arch an eyebrow as you watch the expressions cross his face. 

“Oh, well I can…you know, I could…” he sputters along and you laugh. 

Just as you’re about to take pity on him, you see a rush of guards coming through the spaceport. It’s the last thing you want to see. Your papers are solid and you’ve already made the very real excuse of needing to fix one of your systems before leaving the planet. Then again, you’ve had enough close calls for a lifetime and you’re not really looking to add another one to that list.

As you watch, the guards talk to some other people milling about in the spaceport. The man who rudely burst onto your ship seems to catch that you’re watching something and immediately ducks down. If you weren’t a little nervous about the guards coming aboard, it would be comical. He’s literally not even hiding behind anything.

“They lookin’ for you?” you ask quietly and clock the answer in his eyes before he even opens his mouth.

“I think so,” he says. 

You sigh and ignore Chirron looking back at you. “Back that way, there’s a door in the wall on your left. Nobody ever knows it’s a door, but run your hand on the wall, you’ll feel it.”

“What?” he asks.

“Go,” you hiss and walk towards the open door.

It’s perfecting timing, too, because two of the guards are approaching. One of them, thankfully, is one you’ve dealt with before. And it’s mostly been positive. At least you know he can’t seem to stay away when you breeze in and out of this part of the planet. With any luck, he’s in a good mood. 

“Thought that was your ship,” he says with a smirk, ignoring the look from the other guard. 

“Guilty,” you smile. “Always nice to see you, Kyun.”

“You two know each other?” the other guard asks skeptically. 

“Sure, she runs cargo,” Changkyun says. You can’t fully fight the smile because you know it means you’re safe after all. The two of you have spent enough time in his bed, post hook-up, for him to know that’s not the whole story.

“And I would be gone already because we’re behind schedule, but we had a little mechanical trouble,” you say, laying on the act a little thick. 

“Need a hand?” Changkyun offers. 

“We’re supposed to be asking about someone,” the other guard reminds him. 

“It’s fine, we’ve got it handled anyway,” you say and send Changkyun a flirty smile before turning to his partner. “Ask away.”

“Have you seen an automaton running through here? Blue hair, about this tall, wearing a plain white shirt,” he asks and you pretend to think for a second. 

“There’s been a lot of people coming through,” you offer apologetically. “I think I did see someone with bright hair rushing off in that direction. Could’ve been blue.”

“You’re sure about the hair color?” the other guard asks. 

“Not really, it happened fast. But it could’ve been blue,” you shrug and then look like you’ve realized something. “Wait, there isn’t a reward is there?”

“Last I heard, you were doing fine,” Changkyun says and you smile as his partner walks off to share your info with a group of guards. 

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” you say with a wink. 

“Make sure you come by next time you’re here,” Changkyun says with that look you’ve seen before. 

“I will, promise,” you say. 

“Have a safe flight!” he calls. He’s already heading off to join his partner. 

When he looks back, you wave. For good measure, you look over your shoulder like Chirron said something and nod. You’re closing the hatch with a last wave to Changkyun. Once you’ve also made sure the shields to protect anyone from seeing in are activated, you head back to find your new friend. 

“Seems like people are looking for you,” you say when you open the door.

You don’t bother waiting to see if he’s going to follow you when you walk back towards Chirron at the front of the ship. The blue haired man, who still hasn’t introduced himself, follows you instantly and then ducks when he sees the windshield in front of him.

“They can’t see you,” Chirron says in a bored voice. Mostly likely unimpressed by a decision you don’t actually remember making.

“You almost done?” you ask again.

“Yes, actually, that little disruption got you to leave me alone long enough to fix it,” he says with a glare at you. “Now be quiet again.”

“So rude,” you say quietly without any bite.

“Control, Vega Three requesting clearance for take off,” Chirron states over the communication system.

“Clearance granted,” comes an immediate response. 

“Finally,” you say and take your seat next to Chirron. You twist over your shoulder to look at your unexpected guest. “I’d buckle in if I were you, sweetheart.” 

“Are you…are we taking off?” he asks, seemingly unable to sit still.

“Unless you had a different idea when you tried to sneak onto a ship,” you respond. 

“But you don’t…” he begins.

“You’ve got your reasons for wanting to get off this planet, and we’ve got ours, best to discuss those once we’re actually off the planet. So, strap in,” you instruct.

The stranger in question doesn’t need to be told a third time, thankfully. He slides into the seat behind Chirron and buckles himself in. With a sideways glance at you to confirm he’s clear, Chirron uses the recently repaired controls to get you going and safely off this planet. Even though it’s your home planet, and you definitely can linger, this job is a little sensitive. You really can’t afford to be late on the delivery, though your reputation with this buyer is spotless. It only stays spotless as long as you finish your jobs as quickly and discreetly as possible. 

If you expect the stranger to say something as Chirron navigates you out of the spaceport and into the air, you’re left wanting. When you look back, you find him relaxed back into the chair. It’s like he’s completely at ease. Or maybe just feeling a lot of relief that you let him stay on board. Or even relief that you lied to the guards. Something you do often, though he doesn’t know that. His eyes close as Chirron types in the course to autopilot until you get close to your destination. 

While the stranger rests, something kind of surprising to you given that he doesn’t know you at all, you briefly wonder if it’s sleep or just a sort of recharging. Chirron claims your attention and you quietly discuss your plans for once you get to your destination. Salax is known for…discretion. People don’t tend to ask that many questions there because of the types of humans and aliens alike that follow their desires there. But, since it’s a place for your deepest desires, people are also wary of suspicious behavior. You’ve spent plenty of time there, both for your own pleasure or, like now, for a job. 

The downside to this planet, though? It’s the type of place no robot would ever be seen. Certainly not a Level 1. They’re far too pure for that. And judging by the number of guards employed, and the fact that you were on Earth, you’re willing to bet your new passenger is a Level 1. So that’s going to add its own unique set of challenges. Something that has you buzzing with adrenaline, but has Chirron looking sterner than usual. 

“We need to know who he is,” Chirron repeats quietly.

“And we will,” you answer easily.

“If he’s a Level 1…” Chirron starts before trailing off.

“What? You’ll turn me over for the reward you asked about?” the stranger asks. You’re a little startled because you didn’t realize he had woken up. Or stopped resting, whatever.

Chirron scoffs as he takes in your amusement. “No.”

“It’s not a ridiculous question,” he insists.

“It is if you know her,” Chirron says and nods in your direction. 

“Why? You’re wondering if I’m a Level 1 so you know how high the reward is,” he insists and you finally take pity on him.

“No, I have no intention to collect some reward for you, if one even exists,” you confirm. 

“But why?” he asks. He’s fidgeting in his seat like he can’t sit still. It’s interesting to see when he was resting so peacefully without moving.

“Because,” Chirron interjects, clearly intent to take away any fun, “she prefers not to deal in things as meaningless as currency or credits.” 

“How do you live?” he asks, genuine curiosity coloring his face. 

“I’ve got enough credits to keep us going for years,” you answer vaguely.

“What else is there to work for?” the stranger wonders. 

You turn your seat fully so it’s facing him and lean forward, dropping your voice a little. “So many things, sweetheart. Favors, information, gossip…secrets.” 

His eyes go wide, like it’s something he’s never considered before. And he probably hasn’t. If he’s a Level 1, and you’d bet your ship that he is at this point, then this is so wildly out of normality for him. The Level 1s are pristine, like the celebrities of the galaxy living in luxury with someone to help keep them functioning at the highest levels. They’ll never see the types of jobs that Level 3s see, those jobs that nobody else wants to do. They’ll never work the way that Level 2s do, or have to work for humans in that way. Which isn’t to say their lives are perfect. It’s just not the kind of life where they see the dirty types of jobs that you and Chirron are used to. 

“Why don’t you give me a name, sweetheart? Unless you prefer the pet name, which is fine by me,” you say.

He hesitates, before saying, “Vernon.”

You and Chirron look at each other, like you’re both wondering why this automaton seems familiar and why everyone is looking for him.

“Well, V3RN0N actually, from 53V3NT33N,” Vernon adds.

And that makes everything fall into place. Not that you pay much attention to groups of performers like that, it’s kind of hard when you’re constantly on the move, but everyone in the galaxy knows them. Everyone in the galaxy also knows that the members just…disappeared. There isn’t much information, at least not from reputable sources, about what happened. Thankfully for you, you don’t really deal in reputable sources. So you’ve heard your fair share about the escapes, each tale sounding a little wilder than the last. You at least know someone is desperate to find all 13 of the automatons, given how popular the group is. Or maybe it’s because they’ve resorted to asking in places they’d normally never be caught to find information.

When you assure Vernon that your previous statement still stands, that you’re far more interested in your form of currency than any reward you’d get from turning him in, he relaxes a bit again. He’s worried, still, that he admitted to complete strangers who he really is, but you give him your real names. You tell him what you actually do, despite Chirron’s protests. That’s when he starts telling you all about the escape. The way that he got away, the way he doesn’t know what happened to his other members, the way he hopes they’re all okay too. 

It’s a little depressing and a lot too close to home for you to hear what life was actually like for Vernon and the other Automatons in his group. Not that you’ve ever been famous or had people across the galaxy expecting you to perform, but you know a thing or two about someone else making your decisions. Chirron knows it too, knows your story intimately, so he probably also sees where this is going before you do. 

It’s difficult, you think, to listen to Vernon talk about his experiences and why he chose to run. Humans and aliens had worked together to create these new beings. Perfected them until they were indistinguishable from humans and even gave them emotions. Yet beings like Vernon and his group are expected to just perform. To essentially serve at the wishes of the public for entertainment value. Have to uphold the highest standards and can’t ever do something that would look bad. Have to remain pure, whatever that means. 

From there, you come up with a plan. One that will at least give you time to come up with some next steps on Salax. Vernon is restless again when you share your destination. Of course he’s never been there, but he knows all about it. It’s hard to tell if he’s just nervous that he’ll look out of place or if he’s curious about what actually happens there. In either case, you need to make sure he’s prepared for the stop. There isn’t much choice anyway, you’re on a schedule and he’s just an unexpected passenger. Before he can continue protesting, you send him to the back of the ship to look through the clothes and accessories. Anything to hide who he is.

“He’s not you, you know,” Chirron offers.

“I know that,” you answer.

“Do you?” From anyone else, the question might sound accusatory. From Chirron, it only sounds concerned. 

You sigh. “I do, but what they put him through is awful.”

“He’s an Automaton,” Chirron reminds you.

“I’m well aware,” you say with a slight snap to your words. “You heard him, though. And you’ve seen the Automatons we’ve come across. It’s different.”

“Does he know what you’re going to tell them when we get to Salax?” Chirron asks, switching tactics. 

“Do you?” you ask back.

“An overly sheltered Automaton on Salax?” Chirron raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re going to bring him along as your ‘date’ who’s just testing the waters to see if it’s his thing.”

“I am not that predictable,” you retort. But you don’t disagree because you can’t.

“What else would you say?” Chirron asks.

“I don’t know, I just hope it works,” you say.

“Luckily for him, you’re a frequent visitor,” Chirron says with a shrug.

You decide to let that comment lie. Partly because you don’t want to argue with Chirron too loudly and draw Vernon’s attention. Partly because he’s not entirely wrong. You do like to spend time on Salax, looking for things that you can’t find when you’re constantly on the move. Looking for people that don’t expect you to be there when they need you. That’s something you can’t do. Chirron would ask ‘can’t or won’t’, but the difference hardly matters.

After another minute you go and check on Vernon because you really do need to get going. For a number of reasons. He’s dressed and looking like he’ll at least moderately fit in at the club you’re taking him to. It’s clear he still wants to stay on the ship, or to go with Chirron, but you remind him that won’t work. Chirron is leaving the ship to get supplies for after your errands and to make sure you’re ready to leave the planet. Even without Vernon, you don’t want to linger. Not this time. Going with Chirron to run errands would be even more suspicious. He so rarely has anyone around when he’s anywhere, let alone Salax. He keeps to himself so the appearance of a beautiful stranger would be out of character. No, it’s much easier to have Vernon with you. You’re much more likely to have someone around on this planet. And you’re certainly had enough beautiful strangers with you on Salax to blend in. You ignore the way Vernon reacts each time you call him beautiful because, really, it’s just a fact.

Vernon tags along a half step behind you when you leave the ship. You’re considering telling him to walk beside you when you think you might as well sell it. If you’re going to be telling people that he’s your pet, just someone you picked up for the time being, then it makes sense that he wouldn’t walk quite beside you. 

This club is so familiar to you. Once you’re inside, you make your way to one of the back rooms, the same room you always meet your client in every time she hires you. Nobody asks questions as it is, but certainly not of her when she books private rooms. You know she’ll be seeing someone else before or after you. Or both, knowing her. 

Thankfully, Vernon keeps his head down like you told him to while you’re winding your way through. You offer the occasional smile or nod as you see people that you know, people you’ve worked with professionally and people you know personally. Some look at your companion, but nobody says anything. Both you and Chirron were right. Though this puts Vernon in contact with more people, it’s far less conspicuous. Besides, with his hat and clothing, nobody would guess he was a Level 1. 

Circe is waiting in her back room, sprawled out on her lounger when you enter, surprisingly alone. Then again, she probably got word when you landed and then again when you entered the club. As usual, she looks completely stunning in her figure hugging outfit. It’s enough to send anyone’s mind into overdrive.

“My, my, darling,” she says as she takes in both you and your companion. “I would scold you for keeping me waiting, but you’ve brought company.”

“You know I’d never dream of keeping you waiting,” you say with a smile at her. “We were…held up a bit. Had some ship trouble.”

“And picked up a new toy,” she comments. “Please, sit.”

“Ah yes, well he’s…curious about expanding his horizons,” you say with a glance at him. The two of you sit in front of her.

“Maybe we can share,” Circe offers and you chuckle.

“Circe, love, he’s nowhere near ready for that,” you answer.

“Always keeping your prettiest toys from me,” Circe pouts.

“Now you know that’s not true,” you chastise. “The last time I was here for fun rather than work…”

“Was very fun, that’s true,” Circe concedes. “Should I assume you’re not staying around this time, then?”

“I’m afraid not,” you say and inject as much sincerity as you can.

“Would that happen to be because he’s one of those escaped Automatons?” Circe plays it off like idle curiosity and you only smile fondly.

“If he were, what kind of fool would I be to bring him here?” you wonder.

“The kind that does trust me despite your insistence that you trust nobody other than yourself and Chirron,” she answers without missing a beat.

“Well,” you shrug.

“I thought…” Vernon says quietly to you.

“Relax, whoever you are is no concern of mine. She knows I won’t blow your secret because I know that there’s nobody better in the galaxy than her at what she does,” Circe says softly.

“You flatter me,” you say. This time the sincerity comes in earnest.

Circe waves it off like it’s nothing. You also know she means what she said. “I assume you have what I sent you off for?”

“Of course,” you respond and reach into your bag.

“This is why I protect her,” Circe says, leaning forward like she’s sharing a secret with Vernon. “I’ve never met anyone that can do a sensitive job for me like she can.”

“And have you met a lot of people?” Vernon asks.

Circe’s eyes sparkle. “You may be one of the only ones who can understand when I say thousands, probably.”

You watch the interaction for a moment because it’s so mundane, so simple. Shaking your head to clear the scene, you hand over a small device. Circe takes it and examines it for a second, looking over the markings on the side. Her smile is almost instant.

“This looks full,” she comments.

“It is,” you answer.

“How sensitive is the material?” Circe asks. 

You hesitate and look over at Vernon. “I wouldn’t watch it with just anyone. There’s…well I don’t have to tell you that people get more honest when they’re in compromising situations.” 

This seems to amuse Circe as she watches you form your words. It’s different from how you usually are and it’s entertaining. “Are you in it?” 

“No,” you answer with a little laugh. “Someone owed me a very big favor. Well owes me several favors, actually. He’s not off the hook yet.”

“I’ve known you for years and I still don’t think I understand the extent of your network,” Circe observes. 

“Probably not,” you acknowledge.

“And what about you, my little mystery, what do you owe her?” Circe asks Vernon.

“I’m…” he starts, looks over at you for guidance. “I’m not sure yet.” 

“That’s dangerous,” Circe adds. 

“We haven’t really figured…” Vernon begins, still very nervous. “She got me off Earth.”

“That’s actually part of what I needed to talk to you about. I need to get him an introduction to someone,” you say. Circe’s eyes turn back to you.

“To whom, darling?” she asks.

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “I need a recommendation. Someone that you trust that can help him disappear. Help him reappear as someone new.” 

Circe regards the pair of you for a moment. Probably a moment too long for Vernon’s comfort. “I can’t help you.”

Your frustration gets the better of you before you even consider the why. “Can’t or won’t?” 

“Pumpkin,” Circe says, full of affection and patience that you’re not sure you deserve. “I know the kind of favors you’re offering for something like this. I’d be stupid to turn it down if I could help you, but unfortunately I like you too much to pull the wool over on you.”

“Why can’t you help?” This, at least, comes out calm.

“I’m not sure where to turn, not now at least. There are too many people looking for him,” Circe admits.

You sigh heavily at that. In the seven years that you’ve known Circe, this is a first. It’s the first time you’ve ever presented her with a problem that she couldn’t solve. It leaves you feeling a little helpless, a feeling that you really don’t enjoy. Maybe she takes a little bit of pity on you because she does tell you to see one of her workers before you leave. He can help Vernon look a little different, at least. That’s all she can do, though, and she knows she’s still going to owe you after this. 

So you’re going to have to take Vernon with you, at least for now. You feel some amount of responsibility, even though he jumped onto your ship. But he’s far too sheltered for this life, too innocent, too naive. He isn’t hard around the edges like you, doesn’t know that he can’t trust anyone, hasn’t been hurt by people he depended on. 

You finish up the conversation with Circe and say your goodbyes. It completely slips your notice that Vernon isn’t right behind you when you head out the door.

“Wait a moment,” Circe says, lightly grabbing Vernon’s arm.

He looks down at the place her hand touches his arm before meeting her eyes again. The confusion on his face must be clear.

“Be careful with her,” Circe says. Vernon’s eyebrows only knit further in confusion. “I love her dearly, but it always comes at a price. She’s the kind of girl you’d name one of those hurricanes after back on Earth.”

“I’m not sure…” Vernon tries to begin. Circe waves a hand to quiet him.

“She’s wild and wonderful,” Circe says with a soft smile that only lingers a second. “But she will destroy everything in her path.”

Vernon is about to say something when you pop your head back through the door. “There you are, come on. We should really get going.”

Vernon looks back at Circe, tries to make some kind of sense of what she said. It’s pointless, though, and instead he just follows you out without a word.

If Vernon is expecting you to head straight back to the ship, he’s mistaken. You wind through the hallways like you’ve been through a hundred times before. Which is entirely possible, it’s not like Vernon knows much about you or your history. He just knows he couldn’t navigate back out if he got lost, so he stays close. It’s not that has a bad memory, it’s just that his brain is currently on overdrive. He’s thinking about what Circe said about you. But he’s also just taking in all the things he never even knew existed.

It doesn’t seem like you’re heading anywhere, even when you stop. The room is empty except for a large desk in the center. Vernon wants to ask what it is you’re doing. One look at your face tells him not to. You quickly reach into one of the drawers, like it’s the most normal thing, and pull out another device that looks like the one you gave to Circe. You stow the device in a pocket that Vernon hadn’t even noticed and make your way back out without another word.

In fact, you don’t speak again until you’re back on the ship. Vernon has a second to note that Chirron is missing before you head to the control panel and start pressing buttons. The door closes and something seems to shift with the windshields. It’s like the ship is going into some sort of shut down. You walk back past Vernon to a table and slide into one side of the booth. Vernon takes the cue and slides in across from you.

“So that didn’t exactly go as planned,” you observe. 

“You were expecting her to help,” Vernon says and you nod. 

“Circe knows everyone, has eyes and ears everywhere, so it’s…well I don’t want to scare you, but it’s concerning that she can’t help hide you,” you say.

“Maybe I should just go back,” Vernon wonders out loud.

“Look, you ran away for a reason and I know the kind of desperation it takes to just…run onto some random ship,” you let him know. “I’m not really sure why I’m helping, but I’m going to help. There’s just one rule.”

“What is it?” Vernon asks. He already knows he’s going to agree.

“Whatever I say, you have to follow,” you say. It sounds so simple, Vernon is sure there’s some kind of catch when you continue. “If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you hide. If I say leave me behind, you have to.”

“But…” Vernon starts and you shake your head.

“I’m going to try to find a solution, but I have to keep working too. And this isn’t exactly a safe line of work,” you tell him.

“I’d gathered,” he says before he can stop himself. You chuckle.

“At least you’re observant,” you say.

Since Chirron isn’t back yet, you send off a quick message to him that you’re going off the ship for one more quick stop. That you’ll be back within the hour and ready to go if he is. With that out of the way, you take Vernon to see Circe’s friend about blending in a little better. You’re just hoping that this isn’t going to be a waste. And also hoping that nobody recognizes him in the meantime because the last thing you need is for your name to be plastered next to his.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Two hours later, you’re all back on the ship and taking off. With a quick message to Circe, you thank her and request that she keep you updated if she hears anything interesting. Thankfully, she seems to know what that means and there’s nobody better to keep an eye out. Vernon looks different, too. His hair is a different color and style, his eyes are no longer the same shade, his clothing is entirely different, even some of the shape of his face is different. Despite his protests, you also got him a face mask and sunglasses to wear. Although he thinks that it’ll make him stand out, you insist that in your line of work, it’s standard.

Although you know you need to talk, you tell Vernon that it’s time for you all to get at least a little sleep. Chirron put it on the slow track to allow everyone a chance to rest before getting to their next stop. It’s standard practice for the two of you, but entirely foreign to Vernon. 

Once you wake up again, it’s time to talk. “We need a story.” 

You, Chirron, and Vernon are sitting at the table in the main part of the ship. The ship itself is on autopilot to your next stop, which Chirron says will take at least 3 more hours.

“Better late than never, I guess,” Chirron says.

“Would you stop being grumpy?” you fire back.

“No,” Chirron answers without hesitation.

“Uh, a story for what?” Vernon interrupts.

“Who you are and why we’ve let you join our missions.” Chirron gives the straightforward answer before you can be a smartass. 

“Does there need to be a story?” Vernon asks, causing Chirron to sigh.

“Yes, there does,” is all Chirron says.

You shoot him a look. “Our entire livelihood depends on us staying off the wrong radars, which we’ve been good at. But it also depends on our current…clients continuing to trust us. You’re new. And while our reputation is excellent, we tend to deal with a lot of people who value privacy and secrecy over everything.”

“So she can’t just tell them we’ve picked up a rogue celebrity on the run and just go with it,” Chirron says.

“Maybe I should just…” Vernon starts.

“What? Get off the ship and try to hide on your own?” you wonder. 

“I don’t know,” Vernon says.

“Remember what I said when you got on the ship? The one rule is to do what I say?” Vernon nods at your question. “That’s still in effect, sweetheart.”

“So what’s the plan?” Chirron asks you.

“What are you good at? Besides singing and dancing?” You direct this question at Vernon.

“Rapping, not singing,” Vernon corrects quietly. “What?” you ask.

“I rapped, I didn’t sing,” Vernon tells you. “And I produced some of our tracks. In my free time, when I actually got it, I played a lot of games.” 

You’re looking at Vernon like he just handed you the easiest line and he doesn’t realize it. His head is down, he’s not confident about anything he said. But you know better. You know that he just handed you the perfect solution.

“You any good with tech, then?” You try to throw out the question casually. 

Chirron actually approaches a smile then. He knows where this is going and enjoys the way Vernon’s head pops up. It’s almost endearing the way his eyes go wide and he looks innocent again.

“Uh, yeah, I’m decent with it. I, well I used to try and practice any time I could get my hands on any tech. I had to use all the programs to produce the songs, so I got pretty good at it,” Vernon says.

“Chirron, I’d like you to meet our new tech specialist,” you announce and Chirron chuckles. 

“Bout time I didn’t have to stumble my way through reprogramming shit,” Chirron says.

“I don’t know,” Vernon says.

“Look, I’ve got plenty of old tech on the ship that you can practice on. After the next job, we’d planned a break anyway. So, for real, I won’t pick up anything new…” you start to outline.

“Thank fuck,” Chirron whispers, silenced by your look.

“And we can lay low at our place while you figure out if you’re really our new tech guy,” you say. 

“Your place?” Vernon asks.

“Yeah, I mean we’re not always on the move,” you say with a shrug. 

“Okay, might as well try, I guess,” Vernon says.

“That’s the spirit,” you encourage.

Vernon shits in his seat and winces. It’s the first time that you’re actually looking at the way his body moves. You hadn’t even looked when he changed or when he had his appearance worked on, hadn’t checked for injuries or done any of that. You’re not used to having someone new around. For all yours and Chirron’s faults, both of you trust the other and know well enough to admit if you’ve been hurt. This new addition doesn’t.

He winces again and runs a hand over his chest, something he clearly hopes you don’t notice. You do, though. His eyes meet yours and he looks scared, like he’s still not sure if he can trust you. Like he’s still on edge with every move.

“Are you okay?” you ask, voice gentle so you don’t scare him.

“This is all a bit weird to get used to,” Vernon answers.

“That’s not what I meant,” you level. 

“It’s nothing,” he insists. 

“Vernon, if we’re all gonna be in this, then you have to tell us what’s going on,” you say with as much care as you can muster. Certainly more care than Chirron is used to.

“It’s not that bad, it could be a lot worse, it’s just…well it’s the communication device that I used to have. My manager, he had to stay behind, he’d been loosening it for weeks so it wasn’t as painful when it came out but I had to run before he could finish. And I almost got caught trying to have someone fix it for me,” Vernon says. 

“You’re going to need to let us see,” Chirron says. Vernon looks between the two of you before he lifts his shirt over his head. Beneath it, he’s wearing a bandage that wraps around his body. You lean forward to start unwinding the wrapping, needing to get a look. It’s weird, you think, to brush your fingers against his skin and have it feel so much like your own. Weirder still is seeing the partial hole leftover in his chest. You can see where some of the edges need to be smoothed and where he needs to keep it covered. Vernon doesn’t seem nervous under your touch, which reminds you that he’s not actually human, despite how much his upper body seems like he would be. 

“Chirron, can you go get me my toolkit?” you ask.

“What are you going to do?” Vernon asks suspiciously. 

“I’m going to do everything I can to make it more comfortable while we’re on the ship and then we can figure out next moves once we land,” you say.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Vernon protests and you just raise an eyebrow. 

Chirron reappears with a box and stifles a chuckle at the scene. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“How do you know what to do?” Vernon tries a different question.

“She worked as a Automaton mechanic for almost a year,” Chirron answers, taking your fun of torturing him away.

“I thought you were a criminal,” Vernon admits and this does make Chirron laugh. You join in. 

“I’m a lot of things, sweetheart, I’ve lived a very full life,” you say and don’t offer any further explanations. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Back home, you get settled and suggest you all get some rest before you decide on next moves. You know that Vernon doesn’t actually sleep now, but you also know he has to recharge. Which is all sleep is anyway, so you send him off to his own area to recharge. Once you’re all awake again, Chirron helps you come up with a more permanent solution to the whole where Vernon’s communication device used to be. It’s painful, you know that it’s painful for him and you wish you could help. But you can’t. All you can do is help him through it and know that when you’re done, he shouldn’t be in pain anymore. He takes even longer to recharge after you’re done. When he emerges, though, he does feel a lot better and he’s incredibly thankful.

It’s been just over three weeks since Vernon ran onto your ship without looking back. Just about three weeks since you finished the last job after leaving Salax. Chirron has loved every minute of getting to take the break. In fact, you’ve gone entire days without seeing him while he takes time for himself. It’s one of the longer breaks you’ve taken and he’s actually enjoying it. 

You, on the other hand, don’t like to be still. Don’t like to be stationary. It gives you entirely too much time to think and to remember all the reasons you’re in this position now. For the first few days, you tried to give Vernon his space like Chirron. He had more tech and gadgets than he’d seen in his entire existence, which is good. It seemed like he was enjoying getting to work on them and learn as he went. Annoyingly, he took to it almost immediately.

But then he seemed to realize that you didn’t like to be left to your own devices. That you’re the opposite of Chirron and would probably never stop moving if you had the choice. So he asks if you would be willing to keep him company while he works through things, insists that he doesn’t need silence in order to work. Actually, he thinks that he’s gotten a good handle on it and it would be better having you around. Even though you look skeptical, you take him up on the offer. 

While Vernon works (and occasionally curses at something, using a swear word he learned from you), he asks about your life. Usually you keep all of that to yourself. It’s not really comfortable for you to share the parts of your past. But this isn’t a normal situation. Meeting someone like Vernon isn’t an everyday occurrence. So you find yourself telling him things that it took you months or years to tell Chirron without giving it a second thought. Everything just feels…easy. There’s no other word. Vernon has experienced things you couldn’t ever imagine, but he’s still so new at people and interactions. There’s no fear of judgment with him. It’s almost refreshing. 

Vernon listens intently as you talk about your childhood and how you got to where you are now. It’s hard for him to really imagine having parents like yours that loved you and cared for you. That’s not an experience or relationship he’s had, even as close as he is to his other members. When you start to talk about things getting harder, you pick up a communication device to start fidgeting with it. Something you may not even realize but Vernon has learned enough of human emotion to know you’re uncomfortable. Not so uncomfortable that you stop talking, just unused to talking about this part of your past. The emotion is clear on your face when you talk about losing your parents, even for Vernon to pick out. Although you insist they weren’t perfect, they were all you had and you were way too young to try and make it on your own. Yet that’s exactly what you had to do. Exactly what landed you here. 

It surprises Vernon when you’re equally as interested in hearing about his experiences up until this point. About how others interacted with him, about what his emotions are like, about just generally how he feels. Which catches him off guard. He can’t remember a time in his existence where someone has actually wanted to know how he was doing in that way. Sure, people cared that he was performing at the top level and there were plenty across the galaxy that claimed to care about him. But Vernon could not recall someone asking him how he felt about any of it like he had a choice to feel anything at all. Not until you, that is. 

So that made Vernon want to talk. He started at the easiest place to tell you about performing and about his members. Even with the space and distance from them, he thinks he did genuinely care for them, genuinely enjoy being around them. He realizes that he enjoyed the performing aspect of it too. What he found he didn’t enjoy was the control and the treatment behind the scenes. He was always a commodity, always expected to do as he was told. Never permitted to see other parts of the world, interact with others the way he might want to. None of his time was ever truly free, his every move was watched. It was fine, at the beginning of Vernon’s consciousness, to live that way. 

However, as Vernon became more aware of the universe around him, he began to feel that he was missing something. He wanted to see more, know more, experience more. It made him restless. Sure, he’s not human, or even alien, and he can’t bleed or die the way others can. But he was given consciousness, given the ability to think and move freely, the ability to form bonds with others, the ability to question. With that had come the thought of something more than he currently had. All of that had led him to this moment. 

It’s hard, hearing about the life Vernon led. But you can also see how talking about his feelings with someone that cares changes him. He’s able to sort through feelings that he never considered before. It’s really nice to be able to offer that to him, to be able to support him in such a human way. Whatever else is true about the Automatons, they clearly have enough consciousness that they deserve to be treated far differently. 

It also naturally flows into you sharing what work actually looks like for you and Chirron. And Vernon now that he’s joining the team. You outline the jobs you take, the types of clients you have, the methods that you use to get a job done. Vernon seems a little wide-eyed at some of the jobs you take or how you get them done. But that’s when you remind him that getting a job done by any means necessary is kind of your whole motto. He doesn’t have to worry, you’ll never put him or Chirron in a compromising situation and never ask either of them to do something they’re not comfortable with. If it’s something…compromising, you’ll always do that yourself or call in a favor from your network. Although Vernon doesn’t look like he likes the answer, he accepts it.

Neither you or Vernon notice the moment when your days shift. What started as the two of you going about your days separately before ending up chatting about something turned into being together throughout the day, not even really tracking the last time Chirron had been by. Although you assured Vernon it wasn’t really an issue, both you and Chirron wore bracelets with trackers in them so you’d always know where the other was. That’s a relief, because honestly Vernon likes this comfort between you and him. He does ask if he should get a bracelet too and you say that you’ll get him one as well. 

Finally, though, all good things must come to an end. You manage to call Chirron back so that you can move forward with your plan. Everyone is still looking for Vernon and his other members, but it seems that nobody has reported any sightings. At least not of Vernon. 

“Are you ready to move back out?” you ask Chirron over dinner.

“If we must,” he sighs. Then he turns to Vernon. “Though I should thank you, actually, she’s never stayed still for this long.”

“Not like she’s stayed still while we’ve been here,” Vernon offers. 

“Hey,” you protest. 

“You haven’t,” Vernon doubles down. He’s different now, much more comfortable pushing back against you like an equal rather than someone who just needs to be saved. 

“This is still unprecedented for her,” Chirron says. “I was sure we’d be back on a job within the first week.” 

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt. 

“Do you have a job lined up for us?” Chirron asks.

“Several, just deciding the right one. I’m going to reach out to Circe first, though, on the unsecured line just to plant the first seeds,” you say.

This is part of the plan. You trust Circe, despite your insistence that you don’t trust anyone, but you can never be too careful. So you have two ways to talk. One is the most secure, locked down communicator in the galaxy and it’s strictly for sensitive jobs or when you can’t drop in to see her in person. It’s how she’s been keeping you updated on any rumblings about Vernon. The other is for things that wouldn’t matter so much if someone else saw it. 

You: hey love, just wanted to let you know that we finally expanded the crew beyond chirron and myself Circe: about time, who’s the new addition? You: he goes by sol, caught the fucker trying to hack one of my comms and offered him a job on the spot Circe: only you Circe: so you finally have a tech specialist? You: looks like it Circe: well stop by the next time you’re in the area, first round’s on me

Vernon offered up that he was also called Hansol as an actual name. Though he preferred to keep going by Vernon, Sol would make for a good name to resurface under. Nobody would be able to put those two together, so it seemed safe while still ringing at least partly true. You taught him that the best cover stories or lies had a little bit of truth to them. It made it easier to navigate. 

Predictably, after reaching out to Circe, you got several more job requests. Each one came with a message that they’d heard about the new addition to your team and were looking forward to hiring you even more. Which is exactly what you wanted. Although the other two had initially been skeptical, they had come around. There was undeniable logic in the idea of Vernon hiding in almost plain sight. Nobody in their right mind would go looking for a missing Automaton on a ship of questionable legality that made frequent stops on a planet like Salax. Everything in his programming should have stopped that.

Which just leaves picking a job to start with, something you do all the time. Vernon can tell you’re a bit nervous, and he is too honestly, but it’s going to be okay. It has to be okay.

“I’m just gonna remind you before we head out,” you start, allowing Chirron to go ahead onto the ship, “you can leave any time you want. After the first two jobs, that is.” 

“But you’re still gonna be doing this, right?” Vernon asked.

“Yeah,” you answer quickly.

Vernon shrugs. “I’m with you then.” 

“Vern,” you caution. He only shakes his head.

“I wanna stick by you, you’re the first person that’s ever given a shit about me,” he says. 

That makes your heart skip a beat, which you don’t really have time to consider since you’re supposed to be taking off any minute now. In fact, if you don’t follow Vernon onto the ship, you’re sure that Chirron is going to come storming off to yell at you for holding them up. There are certain windows that you need to operate in. So you file the feeling away to be dealt with later, like so many other things in your life, and get on the ship. You still have a team to run. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Everything goes fine with Vernon on the team. At least for a while. That’s the good thing about the type of work you do. Nobody really asks that many questions about your team or your backgrounds or where you were before. Nobody really cares, honestly, when your reputation is spotless and you’ve never missed a job. Honestly, you think that this whole situation is pretty perfect. Even Chirron, ever the pessimist, seems satisfied. 

Which is why you don’t see the issue coming. You should, you know it’s your job to see every possible outcome and calculate the likelihood of success, but you don’t see this one. Don’t anticipate something going wrong because of Vernon nearly blowing your cover. Don’t even consider that he might have an issue now, when it’s been weeks, with your methods for getting something done. Don’t think that you have to remind him that the number one rule when it comes to jobs is by any means necessary. 

Yet that’s what happens. He turns remarkably human, even with the restlessness that you’ve come to expect, when the three of you are sitting with an unsuspecting mark. Another human that doesn’t realize you’re on a job rather than just enjoying some drinks on a night out. You’re getting ready to take the mark to a backroom so that you can get the information you need and Vernon seems like he wants to stop you. Actively tries to delay you, actually.

“Baby, it’s getting a little crowded in here, why don’t you go ahead and see about a room reservation,” you say, offering your most seductive smile. The mark hesitates for a moment, thrown off by Vernon’s last comments.

“I would hate to get in the way…” he begins and your hand is on his arm immediately.

“I assure you, you’re not,” you say with eyes only for him. “I promise, I’ll meet you at the desk in just a minute.”

“How can I say no to that?” he asks, enamored with you again. Like too many before him.

The second he’s out of earshot, Vernon exhales and opens his mouth to say something. You’re quick to plaster on the same smile. 

“Chirron, take him back to the ship and wait for me there,” you say quietly, making sure nobody can hear you and nobody realizes you’re unhappy.

“Look, I’m sorry, I just…” Vernon starts.

“Not here,” you respond quickly, keeping the smile in place.

“Okay, but…” Vernon tries again, but Chirron is nudging him out of the booth.

“Let’s get something to eat, I’m starving,” he says without bothering to be quiet. He knows your moves well enough to play along.

“All you think about is food,” you jibe affectionately.

“Don’t take too long, we’ve still got work to do,” Chirron calls over his shoulder as he leads Vernon away.

You watch the two of them disappear into the crowd before you join the mark. Thankfully, he seems so taken by your flirting that he accepts your excuses of your friends being hungry. Everyone gets a little cranky, he sympathizes. The desk attendant offers you the key to one of the private rooms and you lead the way, feeling the mark following you without needing to check. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It takes a little longer than normal and definitely longer than you’d like before you’re also headed back to the ship. This mark needed a little more foreplay before he was ready to spill the secrets that you need. Or maybe you’re a little off your game from the near issue that Vernon created. You know you’re good, you’ve done this enough times to know that you can be irresistible, but you don’t like unexpected interference. You definitely don’t ever expect that to come from your own team. And you don’t like having to resort to different plans, like you did tonight. Normally, you don’t take it that far. No matter. You got what you needed.

Once you’re heading back to the ship, you fire off a quick message to Chirron to ask if he’s got any food leftover on the ship. He knows it’s code. You’re asking if he actually went to get something to eat or if they went straight back to the ship. His answer comes immediately. They do have food, he lists off what the leftovers are, but you took too long and it might be cold. A suggestion to get your own food if you’re hungry. And also a suggestion to take an extra beat if you need it before you come back to the situation on the ship. So you take heed and pick up some food from your favorite stand before returning to the ship.

Both Chirron and Vernon are sitting in the booth as soon as you turn around from closing the hatch. Chirron looks tired, like he’s run an entire marathon in the time since you parted ways. Vernon looks restless, like he’s barely able to stay seated. Maybe that’s why Chirron looks so worn out.

“What the fuck, Vernon?” you ask as soon as you’re sitting down and setting out your food.

“What do you mean?” he asks as if it’s a completely unreasonable question.

“You nearly blew our cover!” you retort. 

“Because you were going to…you were taking him, you were going to…” he stutters out.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I was going to fuck him,” you cut over him.

He blanches at the bluntness of your statement. Even after all the time he’s been around you, he’s still surprised. “Well that’s just…you shouldn’t have to do that.”

Your eyes flick to Chirron, as if you’re asking what he’s been doing the last two hours that you were indisposed. 

“He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say,” Chirron says. Vernon glances between the two of you. It’s still foreign to him that you can communicate without using any words.

“No, I don’t,” Vernon agrees. 

“Well, you should,” you say flatly. “Chirron is just as much in charge as I am. Whatever he says, also goes.”

“Not when it comes to you doing…that,” Vernon says.

“No, that was my choice,” you agree. 

“And you shouldn’t have done it,” Vernon argues.

“According to who, Vern?” you ask. 

“You just shouldn’t have to…use your body like that,” he says and looks down. He’s embarrassed, but you’re not sure why.

“Sweetheart, you knew the game. I told you that jobs get done by whatever means necessary. I told you that I’d never ask you or Chirron to do what I did, but that if it came to it, I would do it,” you explain.

“I didn’t think you were serious,” he says quietly.

“So, what? You thought you’d come in like some Knight to protect my honor and risk blowing the job?” You’re a little incredulous at that.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t like the idea of you and that guy…” Vernon starts and stops. Chirron, thankfully on the edge of the booth, gets up then.

“We need some supplies before we leave here. I’ll go grab them,” he says and leaves before either you or Vernon can object. 

“What was the first rule, Vernon?” you ask when the silence gets too deafening.

“That we finish jobs by any means necessary, I know,” he huffs out.

“No, the real first rule. When I agreed to help you,” you prompt, voice soft. He finally looks up at you. He knows and doesn’t want to say. “That, no matter what, you had to listen to what I told you.”

“I know,” he answers like a defeated man.

“Then why didn’t you?” you press.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I just…I knew you were about to go into that back room with that guy and I knew how far you’d be willing to go to get what we need and it just…it made me mad.”

“Mad?” you ask. “Why are you mad?” 

Vernon is frustrated, you recognize it immediately. Not because of what you did, or not entirely, at least. He’s frustrated because he’s feeling an emotion that he doesn’t understand and doesn’t know how to describe. This isn’t the first time you’ll have to walk him through sorting it out. But it is the first time you’re not sure if you can. You’re nervous about what he’s feeling and why.  Nervous about what he’s going to say. Nervous about what he’s actually feeling. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. He’s frustrated. He doesn’t like not understanding how he’s feeling. “I just, I had this feeling in my stomach when you started making plans with that guy and I didn’t like it.”

“That’s understandable,” you offer.

“Is it?” His question comes quickly. “I wanted to, I don’t know, I wanted to tell him to get lost or just tell us what we needed to know but stop looking at you like you’re a meal. Or like you’re something to win. You’re not a thing, you’re a person.”

You’re relieved, mostly, because you think you can identify this emotion in a way that doesn’t complicate an already overly complicated situation. Your smile at him is soft, sofer than he’s seen on you since you left the break between jobs. Softer than you give to anyone on jobs and far more genuine. “Yeah, it is understandable. It just means you care, you’re protective over me.”

Vernon seems to consider this for a second like he’s not entirely sure that’s it. Seems to want to say something else. “I do care about you.”

“I know you do,” you say.

“I don’t like feeling like this, like I want to protect you and I know that I can’t,” he admits. 

“It’s tough,” you agree and then decide to admit something. “I feel that way about you, too.”

“You do?” Vernon looks hopeful, like you understand.

“Course I do,” you say easily. “I feel, I’m not sure, responsible for you, I guess. Like I threw you into this life without much choice and I worry that I’m putting you in more danger than when you ran onto the ship in the first place.”

“You’re not.” He’s quick to reassure you. “Life in the last month or two with you has been better than my entire existence up to meeting you.”

That shouldn’t warm your heart, shouldn’t make it beat irregularly, shouldn’t make you feel something more than just the care you mentioned. It does, though. It’s making you feel a lot of things that you really don’t need to be feeling.

In contrast, Vernon seems much lighter. It seems like he’s relieved by understanding the care he feels for you is normal and relieved he could let you know how good things have been since he met you. It doesn’t go deeper for him, at least not now. Not when you gave him a simple name for the emotion. You don’t think he realizes that you’re in your head about the entire conversation and what this means for the two of you going forward. You don’t think he realizes that there’s another emotional explanation for his reaction and you’re not going to tell him. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Vernon thinks about that conversation with you a lot over the next several weeks of missions. He thinks about how he felt watching you make plans to go somewhere private with a person that you called a mark. He thinks about the feelings that boiled up inside of him that he described as anger when they felt like much more. He thinks of the way you react to him almost ruining a mission and how you reacted to him after you got back. He tries not to think about what you did while he waited in too much silence on the ship with Chirron. 

He spends the most time thinking about what you didn’t say. Even though he’s not sure what it was, he knows there’s something. Your face can be really expressive when your guard is down, as it usually is around him and Chirron. Part of him wants to think he reacted the way he did only because he cares about you in the same way that Chirron does. That you’re a team, some kind of weird version of a family that protects each other. But then he remembers how you went quiet after he accepted, with relief, the idea that it was only caring about you. Too many times, he finds himself wanting to ask what you didn’t say.

The three of you all agree that he should stay on the ship more during those kinds of missions. There’s really no reason for you all to be off the ship, anyway. You’re usually the only one that interacts with people like that, the only one that seems comfortable putting yourself out there like that. Vernon hates that you feel like you have to take those jobs, hates that you’re willing to go to those lengths. Although you tell him a lot, he doesn’t know that you don’t mind that part of it. That you don’t see yourself as someone that forms actual romantic attachments, that sex is just sex for you. Just another part of life. 

It’s another mission where you think you may need to get close to a mark, another mission where you think you may need a back room without prying eyes. Whatever that means. This time, Chirron offers to stay on the ship with Vernon. He says it’s because there’s some things he needs to work on, but Vernon sees it for what it is. He doesn’t want to leave the newest team member alone. Chirron is much more perceptive than anyone gives him credit for.

“You know, I never asked you,” Chirron starts, causing Vernon to look up from the transponder he’s fiddling with. “What were you hoping for when you ran onto our ship?”

Vernon considers this for a moment. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet also feels like it was just yesterday. “I’m not sure. I think I just hoped that I could catch my breath long enough to figure out my next move.”

“Not join a team that takes on illegal jobs across the galaxy?” Chirron asks, that dry humor surfacing again.

“No,” Vernon agrees with a small chuckle.

“Why do you stay?” Chirron wonders.

“Trying to get rid of me?” Vernon asks in response.

“No,” Chirron answers immediately. “No, having you around has been good for her. For both of us, really. I’m just curious about why you stay when you don’t have to. Is it just because you don’t have anywhere else to go?”

Vernon, thankfully, is used to Chirron’s way of speaking. So he knows there’s nothing malicious behind the question, only curiosity. 

“No, it’s not that. Not that I have some idea of where to go beyond that one sanctuary planet I’ve heard of,” Vernon says. “I like being around both of you. It feels like I belong? I haven’t felt like this before. It’s nice. Kind of like a feeling of being warm all over.”

“I’m glad,” Chirron says genuinely. 

“I don’t like this part though,” Vernon says and shifts in his seat again.

“The waiting?” Chirron wonders, but there’s something on his face that Vernon can’t place. Thankfully, he carries on. “Or the waiting when you know what she’s doing?” 

Vernon frowns at that. He’s still not sure he has the right name for this feeling. “Why does she put herself in positions like this?”

Chirron shrugs. “Don’t know. I’ve tried to tell her that some jobs aren’t worth it, but it’s like she has to prove something. To who, I’m not sure.”

“You don’t stop her, though,” Vernon observes.

“No, I don’t,” he agrees. 

“Why?” Vernon presses.

“Because, as you saw on that mission a few weeks ago when she sent us away, she’s going to do it anyway. I know the difference between when something is actually dangerous and when it’s just not what I would do. So I let her go unless it’s actually dangerous,” Chirron says. 

“It still doesn’t feel good,” Vernon admits. 

“No, because you care about her,” Chirron says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“Of course I do, I care about both of you,” Vernon says. “You care about her too.”

“I do,” Chirron agrees and that look is back, “but not the same way as you do, I don’t think.”

“Are there multiple ways to care for someone?” Vernon asks. 

Chirron chuckles, a low, comforting sound. “Of course. There’s the way her and I care about each other, like family. Like someone that could drive you absolutely insane, but you still love them and you’d still be there for them in a friendly way.”

“And what’s the other way?” Vernon wonders.

“Caring about them like you have feelings for them. Like they’re the first one on your mind when you wake up or the last one on your mind before you go to sleep. Like you just want to be around them and feel a little empty when you’re not. Like you’re not entirely sure what you’d do if one day they just weren’t there anymore,” Chirron explains.

“Oh,” is all Vernon can say. 

“I don’t know how you feel, or how she feels, but it doesn’t seem like just the kind of caring like it is between her and I,” Chirron says. “I love her and I’d do anything to protect her, but I don’t have feelings for her.”

“Do I?” Vernon asks quietly.

“I don’t know, only you can figure that out,” Chirron says. 

Feelings are difficult, Vernon thinks as he contemplates Chirron’s explanation. Every time he thinks that he’s got a handle on them, something else comes up to throw him for a loop. His body almost relaxes to help the fact that his mind is going entirely too fast. Chirron, seeming to sense that he gave Vernon a lot to think about, goes back to what he was working on before the conversation. 

It’s easy to be around Chirron, something Vernon has known since the beginning. But now he realizes that it’s easy in an entirely different way than being around you. With Chirron, there’s a comfort and a familiarity and definitely a care. Just like he describes feeling about you. With you, it’s entirely different. Vernon finds himself wondering about your past, wanting to know every detail even though you’ve shared a lot. He wants to know what you think, especially when you go silent. What thoughts are you keeping to yourself and why don’t you want to share them? 

The worst, though, is easily the way Vernon feels when you’re off on your own like this. He’s not sure how to put it into words or how to even Chirron about it. Or if he even wants to ask Chirron about it. He just knows that he doesn’t like it, that it makes him feel unsteady and unfocused. That he makes mistakes on whatever he’s working on when he thinks of this aspect of the jobs. It’s like he wants to lash out at the marks or the clients that hire them in the first place. He wants to let these people know that you’re not actually interested in them. That it’s only for work. But is that true? 

“Chirron, can I ask you something?” Vernon finally asks.

“Sure,” Chirron says. He’s much more relaxed around Vernon, probably because he doesn’t try to rile Chirron up.

“I’ve got this feeling that I’m not sure about, it pops up when we’re on missions like these,” Vernon begins before outlining just how he feels when he thinks about what you’re doing.

Chirron is quiet, thoughtful as he listens, giving Vernon his full attention. He lets Vernon finish uninterrupted before he’s quiet for a second. “Well, it sounds like jealousy.”

“Jealous of who? Of her?” Vernon asks. He knows what jealousy is, just like every other emotion, because it’s simply knowledge of the existence of emotions. He doesn’t know how it feels though, not really. Like every other emotion, it’s something he’s had to learn as he goes.

“Of the people she’s with,” Chirron answers, amused.

“Why would I be jealous of them?” Vernon asks. 

“I can’t tell you the why, Vernon, you know that,” Chirron says without any hint of frustration. “I can just say what it sounds like. Which is that you’re jealous she’s behind closed doors with someone other than you.”

“You think I want…to do that, I don’t even know…I’m not sure how something like that would even work,” Vernon splutters, tripping over his words worse than he’s done in a while. 

Chirron takes pity on him and only gives him a sympathetic look. It allows Vernon to gather his thoughts before he says anything else. A blessing, actually, because a minute later, the door opens to allow you back onto the ship. You look a little like you’ve been up to something that Vernon doesn’t really want to consider. Like you tried to straighten yourself out again, but couldn’t quite get everything. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice the tension in the air and just immediately go to pull out something to eat. Life moves on for you like nothing else happened.

Thankfully, Vernon can pretend he’s working on reprogramming a communicator, something he needs to do for a job anyway, and stay back away from the cockpit of the ship. He also knows that you’ll eat up there with Chirron to talk about how things went. To talk through the finer details of the information you were able to extract. You don’t talk to Vernon about those details and he doesn’t stop to think about why. He’s just glad you don’t. Not that you go into explicit detail with Chirron. It’s just…well maybe Chirron is right. Maybe Vernon is jealous because he’s got deeper feelings for you. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It’s supposed to be easy. That’s what you say. You don’t take on jobs that would put the team at too much of a risk and you don’t ask them to do anything they don’t want to do. You haven’t even taken on a job recently where you’d have to leave Vernon and Chirron on the ship while you entertained a mark. This is an exception, you say, too good of a job to pass up given that it should be simple. So simple.

Vernon makes it back to the ship before Chirron does, which makes sense. All Vernon had to do was meet with one of your contacts to swap out some tech he’d been using. After all this time, Vernon isn’t entirely sure what Chirron does when he’s off the ship. He asked once and didn’t get a straight answer. You shrugged it off and said that Chirron does a lot of things, some of which you don’t even know or understand. When you didn’t seem concerned, Vernon let it go as well.

Once Chirron gets back, Vernon pays more attention to the feeling in his stomach since you agreed to this mission. Something just feels…off. Not right. He’s trying not to dwell too much on it because he’s very aware it might be, at least in part, due to his feelings for you. Feelings that he now very much recognizes are real. Whatever that means for him. He hates watching you walk away when he thinks about what you’ll be doing. And he agrees it’s best for him to stay on the ship rather than risk blowing the mission. 

Except…well now he’s actually getting worried. It’s been too long since you left the ship, longer than usual. Long enough that even Chirron doesn’t shoot Vernon down when he brings up his concern. Which only serves to concern Vernon more because Chirron is almost always level. Even now, only his eyes give anything away when Vernon mentions just how long it’s been since you left the ship. After several minutes of back and forth, Chirron agrees that it should be Vernon that leaves the ship to try and find anything out about you. As much as Chirron tries to stay in the shadows, he’s been working with you for years now and people automatically associate him with you. 

So Vernon enters the building, manages to figure out where you had gone without raising any suspicions. After all, your reputation for chasing after pleasure proceeds you. Something Vernon is cursing himself for even considering. The thought flies out as soon as he’s in the room and he sees you lying on the couch, covered in cuts and bruises, only half-dressed. He’s beside you in what feels like a second, checking to make sure he feels a pulse. But, up close he can hear your slightly labored breaths. It could be worse, he reminds himself, as he gets you dressed and wraps you up. He doesn’t want it to be obvious just how beaten up you are before he’s had time to think. Or to consider what you’d do in this situation. Everything in him shuts down apart from the need to get you out a back door and onto the ship as quickly as possible.

Back on the ship, Vernon collapses into the booth while Chirron takes over and takes you into the sleeping cabin. Thankfully, Chirron knows enough basic First Aid that he’ll be able to patch you up before taking you to see a professional. Someone that you and Chirron trust enough to take you there. But, for now, he’s cleaning your wounds and wrapping you up as best he can. Vernon knows he should be helping, knows that an extra set of hands would help. He just…can’t. Can’t seem to find the strength to see you in this condition. He’s just amazed he got you back to the ship without losing it or without anyone seeing you. And thankful, so very thankful, that Chirron is keeping it together. 

Without a word, Chirron emerges from the sleep cabin and heads straight for the front of the ship. Vernon’s barely even sat down in your usual seat before the ship takes off. Chirron doesn’t fly too high, he’s just going to a different part of the planet. That’s what he said when he said that you and him knew someone that could help. It both feels like an eternity and no time at all when the ship lands again. Vernon expects to help you off the ship. Instead, Chirron tells him to stay put, that he’ll be back. 

Doc, that’s what Chirron calls him, looks like a man that’s aged beyond his actual years. He looks like he’s seen more than most people would over several lifetimes. Yet, he seems kind. Seems like he could be anyone’s father or uncle. This time, Vernon does actually follow them back to the sleep cabin, careful to stay out of the way. Doc starts taking stock of you and attaching a number of devices to various parts of your body. They start beeping and it should calm Vernon, because at least something is happening. They don’t, though. All he can think is that you shouldn’t have been in this position in the first place. This was the wrong job to take. 

Vernon’s learned a lot about emotions during the time with you and Chirron, a lot more than he learned in all his time before. He knows, now more than ever, that he cares about you far beyond just being friends. He knows that he’s never felt this kind of fear. Knows that he can’t be still, even for a second. It’s always been like this, Vernon has always suffered from restlessness. It’s a million times worse now. And it’s getting in the way of your care. Somewhere in his pacing and mumbling, something he doesn’t even realize he’s doing, Chirron sends him away. Doc gives him a sympathetic look, like he understands, before turning back to you. 

It’s not any easier to be outside of the sleep cabin because Vernon can still hear everything that’s happening. The entire ship is silent except for the work Doc is doing. Not seeing what’s happening is even worse and Vernon’s restlessness turns into something more like anxiety. He can’t imagine going on without you. Not that anyone has said that would be a possibility. In fact, Doc seems to think you’ll be fine in no time. Most of the injuries are merely surface level. Chirron comes back out with a list of things that they need and tells Vernon to go take care of it. It’ll help you and help him in the process. He’s not doing anyone any good in the state he’s in now. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It takes a few days, but you’re mostly back to your normal self. The worst part, for you, is that you fractured one of your ribs. So that means rest, Doc’s orders. Vernon was happy to hear it because it meant that you had no choice but to take a break. Chirron seemed pleased as well, saying once Doc was off the ship, he’d take you back to the homebase. 

You, however, wake up back home and seem irritated. Remind both Vernon and Chirron that you still have a job to do. Can’t seem to wrap your head around your injuries or the severity of the situation. That’s the first time that Vernon sees Chirron raise his voice with you. It’s the first time he sees the usually calm force standing firm in his position. You’re on bedrest for now so that you can actually heal. Together, you can all figure out what to tell the client. But your health is most important or it’ll be a lot longer than a matter of weeks that you’re out of commission. 

Vernon doesn’t get to listen in on the conversation about what happened. It’s Chirron’s decision, saying that he thinks it’ll just be easier. So Vernon doesn’t know what happened, not really. Sure, he can guess and probably paint at least a picture. Does he really want to know, though? He’s not sure. He doesn’t want the details of just how you were going to get the information, so maybe it’s better like this. What he does need, though, is to talk to you. Chirron gives him that chance as soon as he can, which Vernon is thankful for.

“You look better,” Vernon says after a light knock on your door frame. 

You laugh lightly and Vernon worries for a second, but you seem fine. “Wow, you really know how to butter a girl up.”

“I was worried about you,” Vernon says as he crosses to sit in the chair next to your bed.

“It takes a lot more than that guy to take me down for real, sweetheart,” you offer. 

Vernon’s jaw clenches. “Still.” 

“Hey,” you say and reach out to take his hand. “I’m really okay. I’ve had worse than this, I promise.” 

“You think that makes me feel better?” Vernon wonders with a shake of his head. 

“This is a dangerous line of work,” you say.

“I’m aware of that,” Vernon answers. 

“What’s really on your mind? Chirron’s worried about you,” you admit. 

“We could have lost you,” Vernon says, barely more than a whisper. “I could have lost you.” 

“But you didn’t,” you say gently.

“But I could have and it’s like,” Vernon presses, pausing to think of the right word. “It’s like you don’t even care. Like it’s all a joke.”

“Of course I care, Nonie,” you say. Vernon tries, and fails, to stop his heart from skipping over the nickname that falls so easily from your lips. “This is the job, I know you and Chirron were worried about what was going to happen to me…”

“This isn’t about Chirron,” Vernon snaps and you pull your hand away from his. 

“What is it about?” you ask, guard up. 

“It’s about me almost losing you. About me feeling something that I didn’t even think I was capable of feeling and then worrying I’d lose you before I ever got to tell you,” Vernon says. 

“Vernon, I don’t think…” you start again, only to fall silent at whatever look you see in his eyes. 

“I know it sounds crazy, I know what I am,” Vernon says without meeting your gaze. “We were never supposed to be more than robots. I’ve heard it all. Nobody ever could have predicted that we’d get a consciousness. Nobody seems to know what that even means or what it is. I just know that I ran from the only other beings that I’ve ever known straight onto your ship. And I thought it’d be scary or I’d regret it, but I don’t. You taught me and guided me without making me feel less than. I was teetering on the edge of way too much…whatever this restlessness is. You were like a balm for that.” “I’m glad,” you say, voice just as quiet. “It’s easy to be around you, Vernon. I’m glad you feel at ease here.”

“I don’t understand how…feelings work or what they mean, not when it comes to what I feel for you,” Vernon says. He looks at you, so hopeful. “Maybe we can figure it out together.”

“Vernon, I’m not…I don’t think I’m built for something like that,” you say, pleading for him to understand.

“You don’t care about me?” Vernon wonders.

“No, of course I do,” you disagree. “I just…I don’t know what I really feel either. I just know relationships, they’ve never been what I sought out. They get too complicated in this line of work where anything can happen.”

“So leave,” Vernon offers, like it’s so easy.

“Leave?” you question.

“Yes, quit doing this kind of work. Leave and start a new life away from all of this,” Vernon pleads.

“And what? Just abandon Chirron?” you ask angrily.

“Of course not,” Vernon retorts. “You and I both know that he only stays because you’re family to him. He doesn’t want to do this forever.”

“Is that what you and him talk about when I’m off the ship getting information?” You’re angry now, but Vernon thinks he’s a little annoyed too.

“No,” Vernon says. “The only time we’ve talked about you is when he helped me process what I was feeling. I just, it doesn’t take some kind of genius to see he stays because he cares about you.” 

“This is the only life I’ve ever known,” you say, anger subsiding to be replaced by you looking smaller than ever before.

“No it’s not,” Vernon disagrees. “You told me about your family.”

“Don’t bring them up,” you caution.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, surely you see that,” Vernon pleads again.

“If I say no, will you stay? Or are you asking me to choose between you and this entire network I’ve built over years?” As soon as you say it, Vernon knows he’s lost. Knows that you’ve already made up your mind.

“I’m not asking you to choose anything,” Vernon says. “But I’m not going to continue to watch someone that I care this deeply about put herself in so much danger. So you don’t have to leave this life. I’m done, though.”

“What?” You look like you’ve been smacked.

“I’m done,” Vernon repeats. “I can’t go on like this. I can’t feel the way I do every time you leave the ship. I can’t keep wondering if I’m going to find you in an even worse position. So, I’m leaving. I’d love for you to come with me, but you’ve made your position clear.”

“So, that’s it?” you ask.

“That’s it,” Vernon confirms.

He leaves the room for long enough to say his goodbyes to Chirron, who doesn’t seem surprised that it’s going like this. He’s sad, for sure. Vernon knows what he said was true, Chirron would leave if he could, but he won’t leave you alone. The two of you are family and Vernon’s thankful that you’ll still have someone to depend on. 

There’s nothing left to say to you, nothing but all the things left unsaid. Things that he wishes he could say and things he knows you want to say. Things neither of you will say to the other. Which is fine. It has to be. Vernon has gotten a crash course in humanity, so he tries to squash down the disappointment when he says goodbye to Chirron and you don’t even bother trying to stop him. Barely registers Chirron asking where he’s going. Truthfully, he doesn’t have a plan, so he blurts out the first thing to come to mind. He’s heard of another planet, he thinks it’s called Lumen, that’s something of a sanctuary planet. He’s going to need time to get things together before he can depart. This isn’t something he’d really thought would happen. For the time being, he’s going to stay with another of your contacts that he’s worked closely with since joining the team. One of the only other beings that he trusts apart from you and Chirron.

Just like that, he’s out the door without a backward glance to see that you got as far as your door. Without seeing the way your face falls at him leaving. Without seeing the way Chirron shakes his head at the situation. But you don’t call out, don’t try to stop him. You just let him go like there aren’t any other options. 

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It takes a couple weeks to arrange the transport (and Chirron helping Vernon out by sending credits and outstanding favors to cash in along without you knowing) to Lumen. He stays with a contact he met while working with you that knows someone named San. That’s where the idea of Lumen comes up. It seems like there’s a chance Vernon’s other members are there. And if Vernon has a chance to see them again, he has to take it. Even though he wants to see them all, he really hopes Seungcheol is there. If not for the leader, none of them would have been able to escape.

Vernon gets a last message to Chirron to let him know that he’s leaving in two days. Somewhere in the back of his brain, Vernon hopes that Chirron will share the message with you and maybe you’ll say goodbye. You don’t. Even though Vernon wants to be upset, and he is, he’s still thankful that Chirron helped in the first place. He knows that without that help, he wouldn’t be able to get on a ship to Lumen. 

The journey itself is uneventful. Vernon’s spent enough time on your ship to be used to the travel, but he’s still worried initially that something will go wrong. It’s got him a bit on edge, to say the least. Until he realizes that this isn’t one of your jobs, this is just a regularly scheduled trip to Lumen that the ship was taking anyway. The only difference is one extra passenger. It’s not until they approach the planet’s atmosphere that he starts to get nervous again. The crew agreed that Lumen seems to be a sanctuary planet, and that’s great. It’s just, well Vernon hasn’t really considered what to do when they land. 

The planet is beautiful, like what it seems like Earth looked like before, at least from pictures he’s seen. There’s so much life and color everywhere that immediately puts him at ease. He’s still skeptical, how could he not be? But there’s also a sense of immediate relief that washes over him. WIthout even realizing it, he thinks that this is home. At the dock, he inquires about a place to stay, hesitantly admits that he’s a level 1 automaton, and says he doesn’t have many credits to barter with. What he’s not prepared for is the smiles that form instantly. Someone tells him about a house that he might be interested in and gives him directions. 

It’s not long before he’s approaching the large house, far bigger than he’s expecting it to be. This is definitely too much for him to stay in when he’s not sure how he’s going to afford anything. It’s then that he notices someone working in a garden, tending to plants. They look up and smile the second they see Vernon. He can’t quite hear what they say when they turn to look over their shoulder.

And that’s when Vernon’s entire world shifts. The very one he’d been hoping to see comes out from behind the house and erupts into a smile. They’re both moving towards each other, neither quite believing the sight before their eyes. 

“Vernon?” he asks.

“Seungcheol,” Vernon says with so much affection for his leader. 

“Welcome home,” Seungcheol says and hugs him. 

Home. This can be home. Maybe it’ll all be okay. Maybe this is where Vernon was meant to end up all along and maybe working with you and Chirron had just been a stop along the way. 

i'm sorry for leaving it open like that at the end, but it's kind of what felt the most realistic for them. i hope you enjoyed it and check out all the amazing fics 💕