#I love this girl and I wish she didn’t die without holding more meaning moving forward in the plot :(((((

[eldritch-ace]

Celebrating Mizumono’s birthday with some Abigails :)))

[docholligay]

I want to challenge you from the norm -

“Things you said when I was crying” :

Tracer crying, Pharah is the I

(note: means Pharah is the 'you') So, did this take me nearly three ours despite being only 1000 words? Maybe so! But 2,000 is my goal for this pormpt thing, and so I'm half way there and I'm taking it as a win and I am going to reblog this and make you read it and tell me I'm god's most specialest little girl.

Just when I think it can’t get any worse, it manages to. 

There’s a long line of things I’ve lost along the way: My pilot’s license, my job, my ability to go anywhere alone, and, honestly, my ability to be of any use to anyone, and, you know, all of that I think I could handle. Or at least I have so far. Resilient, me.

But this morning I was sat on the floor of my kitchen, crying in front of you, and that just seems unfair. I’m calling a red card, this is ridiculous. Unsportsmanlike.

I fell. Again. Despite taking it as easy as I can. Even though I had my cane like I’m supposed to. It’s less useful, more and more often. Like me, I suppose. I fell and I spilled my tea all over the bloody place and now you’re cleaning it up without saying a word because I’m everyone’s burden to bear. 

I am so, so tired of it. I wish she would have just killed me. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Sure, I was never meant to collect a pension and I think we all know that, but I wasn’t supposed to go this way. I keep waiting for the instant flash and the bright light, and instead I just keep getting bites taken out of me, day by day, until there’s going to be nothing left of me. I'm a chip being fought over by gulls on a beach somewhere.

I won’t be able to live here much longer. I can’t handle the stairs. I’ve lived here since the day I was born, mission necessity excluded, and I’m going to have to leave. I’m going to have to leave here, and sit and think about what’s going to be taken from me next. And then after that. How bad it’ll get before I’m allowed to die. 

I should take it on the chin. I should keep calm and carry on. Stiff upper lip. I’m the cheerful one, right? I can always find a star in the dark. Look to the sun. Smile for us, Lena, while you’re chipped away. Mostly I can. Mostly I do.

But I didn’t do that, instead I’m sobbing on my kitchen floor while you were over there with a tea towel and god, what have I done to deserve this particular humiliation? I wish I could stop, but I couldn't. I miss the person I was. Before I was some invalid shut-in. Who didn’t cry about dropping a mug of tea because it was just tea then, and not my entire bloody independent life spilled on the floor. 

You cleaned it up. Good of you not to say anything to me, or look at me. I can count on you for that, at least, in a way I can’t other people. It’s hard to complain about everyone loving me so much that I realize how frail I am now, but I hate the way they look at me. So I guess I am going to complain about being loved, actually. I’m going to complain about my cousin pretending he’s moving in to save money while he takes a sabbatical. I’m going to complain about Emily moving to quit work to take care of me. I’m going to complain about the way Winston treats me like I’m made of spun sugar. I’m going to complain about how my aunt holds me extra tight every time she sees me. I’m going to complain about my family making allowances for me, all the time. 

I’m something to be managed now, and everyone loves me enough to do it cheerfully, and I hate every moment of it. I get to die knowing I cost every person I’ve ever loved. 

And I never say any of this to anyone, because all they’ll do is reassure me. Dripping in love and understanding, me, and I want to spit at it. No one will admit I’ve become a burden, and I’m only going to get heavier. 

But you kept your promise to me, much as you can, and I’ll thank you for it. Every Thursday, you come over, and you annoyingly read out Overwatch meetings and protocols and act like you want my opinion on them, when I think we both know you’ve never wanted my opinion on anything, ever. Even now, you mostly ignore my suggestions, which at least makes me feel normal for thirty seconds. Every time you tell me I’m inattentive and unreasonable, I become myself again, just for a flash. 

I took a deep breath. I’ve got to stop myself from crying. It’s not solving anything, for starters. It’s just a place for all the anger and frustration of being me, right now, to escape. It’s not as if I can do anything else. I wiped my eyes with the edge of my sleeve, and I can feel my hand shaking like it does half the time now. 

Then you did it. You stood in front of me and bent down, picking me up under my shoulders the way you have more times than I’d care to count, lately. It’s not my favorite thing, to be reminded of how easy it is for you to lift me, and how impossible it is for me to lift myself, but I suppose there’s no other way to get off the ground. Needs must.

You lifted me up, and you looked in my eyes, and you said it. 

“I would cry, too. Any person would. You are stronger than anyone I have known. ” 

I managed to choke back whatever tears Ihad left, trying to shuffle the last scraps of the rubbish we can call my dignity into a pile. Then i looked at you again. I never can keep focus very long, so I didn’t notice at first. You’ll forgive me that, or at the least, you only have yourself to blame because I’ve been this way my whole life. But I did look at you again. 

There were tears in your eyes, too. Just a little, just moist at the corners, but for you, a river. I never saw you cry, not even for your mum. Not even under torture.

And that just undid me.

[belit0]

Red strings in Highschool au, where strange things had been happening and red strings had started to appear on people. Their strings is connected to reader

I love your works🫶🫶🫶

Not Indra literally leaving this world, biggest drama king around.

Indra

The red string burned where it touched him.

He stared at it without blinking, following the taut red line through the dim hallway until it vanished beneath the classroom door, right to her desk. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. The bell rang. Students filed past him, bumping shoulders and muttering apologies under their breath, but he didn’t register it.

He only saw that string.

Fate. Soulmate. Destiny. All words that didn’t belong in his world. That thread was a chain, a threat, a lie. He yanked it tight between his fingers until it cut into his skin. When it didn’t snap, he dragged a rusted box cutter from his bag, pressed it to the cord—

And sliced.

It didn’t break. It hissed. Sank deeper. Like a vein threading straight into his bones.

He blinked once.

Then again.

Then he walked straight to the bathroom, locked the door, and dug into his wrist like it was the string’s fault that he’d stopped breathing right.

Like it was her fault for being on the other end.

Because whatever it was supposed to mean—it didn’t.

It couldn’t.

He didn’t belong to anyone.

And preferred to die before fate decided for him.

Madara

-It’s a joke,- he spat, eyes wild, string between his clenched teeth like he wanted to chew it off his body. -I don’t care who she is. Take this shit off me.-

Izuna didn’t answer. Nobody did. Because no one knew where the strings came from. They just appeared overnight, tight as shackles, glowing faintly in the dark. Madara’s was the deepest red—vein-colored, almost violent in hue—and it pulled. Constantly. Every movement tugged him toward her.

He smashed mirrors. Tore at it with scissors. Lit it on fire.

It burned and grew back.

Every time he caught a glimpse of her at the other end, laughing with her friends, looking soft and normal, his jaw clenched until his teeth ached. She wasn’t supposed to have any part of him. He never wanted anyone that close.

So the next time he saw her, he cornered her.

Didn’t touch her.

Just stood too close. Let the air freeze.

-You think this means something? That you’re meant for me or some shit?- His voice dropped. -You don’t want to be tied to me, girl. I’ll ruin you. I won’t stop until you wish you never existed.-

And yet he didn’t cut it.

He couldn’t.

Izuna

The first time he noticed it, he laughed.

A loud, stupid bark of sound like it was all some big joke.

-This bitch? You’re telling me this girl is my soulmate?

He walked up to her in the hallway, yanked the string between them like it was a leash, and smirked when she flinched.

-You know this doesn’t mean I give a fuck about you, right? This ain’t love. I don’t believe in that fairy tale shit. And I don’t want you thinking this means anything just ‘cause the universe had a mental breakdown.

But he didn’t cut it.

He wanted to. He tried. Sharp things. Fire. Even had Shisui hold him down once while he burned it with a cigarette. But it healed every time. Grew back through his skin, right where it belonged.

He started spiraling after that.

Drinking more. Sleeping less. Picking fights. Hooking up with girls just to try and snap the cord somehow, like if he dirtied himself enough, the red thread would loosen. It didn’t. It stayed, wrapped tight around his pinky, bleeding into him.

He hated it.

Obito

Obito smiled when he saw it.

Of course it was her.

Of course.

He didn’t question it. Didn’t scream. Didn’t try to cut it. He just touched it—soft, slow, reverent—and followed it to her with the kind of obsessive ease that made his classmates uneasy.

-I always knew it was you,- he said like a confession. -No one else makes me feel like this. I’ve loved you before this stupid string, you know that, right? This just proves it. It’s fate. You can’t leave now.-

She told him it was a mistake.

Told him he was suffocating her. That just because the string existed didn’t mean they had to be together.

But Obito just smiled again.

-Hey… hey, don’t say that. You’re just overwhelmed. It’s okay. It’s us. It’s always been us.

He never stopped watching her after that.

Never stopped using the string as an excuse to show up, to grab her hand when she pulled away, to remind her over and over that they were meant to be.

She stopped going to parties.

Stopped staying late after school.

Stopped smiling in pictures.

And every time her mom said, “God, Obito is such a sweetheart, you’re lucky to have him,” she wanted to scream. But the string never let her breathe long enough to try.

Shisui

He grinned like a bastard when it first showed up.

Pulled it up between two fingers and stared down the red glow with an unreadable look.

-Soulmate, huh? Didn’t think fate had that twisted of a sense of humor.

He liked games. Liked the idea of having something no one else could touch. A string tied straight to a girl like (Y/N), wide-eyed and innocent, who didn’t know what kind of poison she’d just been bound to.

He made it fun at first.

Tugged it across rooms. Smirked when she turned, startled, like she could feel him thinking about her. He taunted. Whispered things in passing. Told her she looked pretty when she was mad. Watched her closely when she said she didn’t believe in soulmates.

-Then why haven’t you cut it?

Her silence always made him grin wider.

But over time, the string started pulling back.

Started tightening.

Started hurting.

He tried to cut it during one of his episodes, when his hands wouldn’t stop shaking and his mouth tasted like copper and all he could think about was get it off, get it off, get it off—

But it fought back.

And when he woke up in the nurse’s office with the string still attached and blood drying beneath his sleeve, he didn’t smile anymore.

He just stared across the courtyard at her and whispered—

-You better not break me, angel. ‘Cause I swear to God, I’ll take you down with me

[cal781]

Levi Snippet # 31 : Passing The Torch

Walking toward to both his lieutenant and a dying soldier . “Levi .. i can’t stop the bleeding “.. y/n hates blood probably as much as levi but if it means to save a life she’d push her personal feelings aside to her saving a life is far more important . Knowing that the man wasn’t going to make it he couldn’t help but notice y/n’s hands were trembling. the lieutenant slowly took her hands away from the soldier’s abdomen . with his shaky dying breath the soldier managed to say “ captain ,did i make a difference ? was i helpful? please.. i don’t want to die without helping mankind”. typically y/n is a composed person with seeing her comrades dying left from right . but this wasn’t one of those days , today’s the anniversary of her mother’s murder being a helpless child back then the 8 year old girl could do nothing but watch. the underground was a cruel and unkind world compared to the surface . trying and failing to calm herself y/n eyes had tears threatening to fall . unaware why the lieutenant was out of character right now petra looked at her superior with a look of understanding . seeing her evident kindness y/n smiled but turned her attention to the captain . holding the man’s bloody hand with utmost compassion “ you did a great job.. the torch will be carried by me .. this i swear the titans will be eradicated!”. petra crouched down and told captain levi that the man is dead . “did he hear what i had to say?” petra nodded “ i’m certain of that looking at his face is a sign of being at peace “. the petite lieutenant turned her back away from the two . not out of jealousy but out of fear from being pitied by the team . once the medics retrieved the deceased man levi saw his lieutenant leaning her side against a building with her back turned . determined not to let others see her being emotional even if nobody would blame her . walking towards the raven haired woman levi called out to her softly knowing all too well why she was this depressed . turning her around sayuki lightly gasped . as he expected her eyes were glossy “ y/n stop being so damn stubborn and just let it out “. his words were blunt but y/n knew better levi cared about his lover more than anybody because to him she was his everything . letting herself being vulnerable y/n embraced her lover tightly and quietly sobbed. it didn’t take much for him to figure out why y/n was acting this way right now . when she gently pulled away levi stopped her and cupped her cheeks, showing his intense but loving eyes conveying that knew it was the anniversary of her mother’s death and understood her the most . caressing his love’s cheeks calming her down y/n sighed in content . ‘this man, he always sees right through me and yet i don’t care .. i know he’s seen every side of me’. before they left levi kissed his beloved’s forehead , even if he wasn’t outwardly showing it levi’s heart ached seeing his love hurting . “you know i hate seeing you in pain y/n” “i can’t help it levi i’m honoring her wishes to live for her sake and you dearest “. softly smiling at his lover happy that she’ll keep moving forward even if their path ahead of them is painful at least neither of them will be alone…

[cal582]

Eren Snippet #36: Passing The Torch

Walking toward to both his lieutenant and a dying soldier . “Levi .. i can’t stop the bleeding “.. sayuki hates blood probably as much as levi but if it means to save a life she’d push her personal feelings aside to her saving a life is far more important . Knowing that the man wasn’t going to make it he couldn’t help but notice sayuki’s hands were trembling. the lieutenant slowly took her hands away from the soldier’s abdomen . with his shaky dying breath the soldier managed to say “ captain ,did i make a difference ? was i helpful? please.. i don’t want to die without helping mankind”. typically sayuki is composed person with seeing her comrades dying left from right . but this wasn’t one of those days , today’s the anniversary of her mother’s murder being a helpless child back then the 8 year old girl could do nothing but watch. the underground was a cruel and unkind world compared to the surface . trying and failing to calm herself sayuki’s eyes had tears threatening to fall . unaware why the lieutenant was out of character right now petra looked at her superior with a look of understanding . seeing her evident kindness sayuki smiled but turned her attention to the captain . holding the man’s bloody hand with utmost compassion “ you did a great job.. the torch will be carried by me .. this i swear the titans will be eradicated!”. petra crouched down and told captain levi that the man is dead . “did he hear what i had to say?” petra nodded “ i’m certain of that looking at his face is a sign of being at peace “. the petite lieutenant turned her back away from the two . not out of jealousy but out of fear from being pitied by the team . once the medics retrieved the deceased man levi saw his lieutenant leaning her side against a building with her back turned . determined not to let others see her being emotional even if nobody would blame her . walking towards the raven haired woman levi called out to her softly knowing all too well why she was this depressed . turning her around sayuki lightly gasped . as he expected her eyes were glossy “sayuki stop being so damn stubborn and just let it out “. his words were blunt but sayuki knew better levi cared about his lover more than anybody because to him she was his everything . letting herself being vulnerable sayuki embraced her lover tightly and quietly sobbed. it didn’t take much for him to figure out why she was acting this way right now . right when she was about to gently pull away levi stopped her and cupped her cheeks, showing his intense but loving eyes conveying that knew it was the anniversary of her mother’s death and understood her the most . caressing his love’s cheeks calming her down sayuki sighed in content . ‘this man, he always sees right through me and yet i don’t care .. i know he’s seen every side of me’. before they left levi kissed his beloved’s forehead , even if he wasn’t outwardly showing it levi’s heart ached seeing his love hurting . “you know i hate seeing you in pain sayuki” “i can’t help it levi i’m honoring her wishes to live for her sake and you dearest “. softly smiling at his lover happy that she’ll keep moving forward even if their path ahead of them is painful at least neither of them will be alone…

Notes: i know this snippet isn’t about the main couple in this fanfic idea but i’d like for them to share the spotlight with levi and sayuki. i think it’s important to not focus on only certain characters in any story.

[cal758]

Eren Snippet #29 : Passing The Torch

Walking toward to both his lieutenant and a dying soldier . “Levi .. i can’t stop the bleeding “.. sayuki hates blood probably as much as levi but if it means to save a life she’d push her personal feelings aside to her saving a life is far more important . Knowing that the man wasn’t going to make it he couldn’t help but notice sayuki’s hands were trembling. the lieutenant slowly took her hands away from the soldier’s abdomen . with his shaky dying breath the soldier managed to say “ captain ,did i make a difference ? was i helpful? please.. i don’t want to die without helping mankind”. typically sayuki is composed person with seeing her comrades dying left from right . but this wasn’t one of those days , today’s the anniversary of her mother’s murder being a helpless child back then the 8 year old girl could do nothing but watch. the underground was a cruel and unkind world compared to the surface . trying and failing to calm herself sayuki’s eyes had tears threatening to fall . unaware why the lieutenant was out of character right now petra looked at her superior with a look of understanding . seeing her evident kindness sayuki smiled but turned her attention to the captain . holding the man’s bloody hand with utmost compassion “ you did a great job.. the torch will be carried by me .. this i swear the titans will be eradicated!”. petra crouched down and told captain levi that the man is dead . “did he hear what i had to say?” petra nodded “ i’m certain of that looking at his face is a sign of being at peace “. the petite lieutenant turned her back away from the two . not out of jealousy but out of fear from being pitied by the team . once the medics retrieved the deceased man levi saw his lieutenant leaning her side against a building with her back turned . determined not to let others see her being emotional even if nobody would blame her . walking towards the raven haired woman levi called out to her softly knowing all too well why she was this depressed . turning her around sayuki lightly gasped . as he expected her eyes were glossy “sayuki stop being so damn stubborn and just let it out “. his words were blunt but sayuki knew better levi cared about his lover more than anybody because to him she was his everything . letting herself being vulnerable sayuki embraced her lover tightly and quietly sobbed. it didn’t take much for him to figure out why she was acting this way right now . right when she was about to gently pull away levi stopped her and cupped her cheeks, showing his intense but loving eyes conveying that knew it was the anniversary of her mother’s death and understood her the most . caressing his love’s cheeks calming her down sayuki sighed in content . ‘this man, he always sees right through me and yet i don’t care .. i know he’s seen every side of me’. before they left levi kissed his beloved’s forehead , even if he wasn’t outwardly showing it levi’s heart ached seeing his love hurting . “you know i hate seeing you in pain sayuki” “i can’t help it levi i’m honoring her wishes to live for her sake and you dearest “. softly smiling at his lover happy that she’ll keep moving forward even if their path ahead of them is painful at least neither of them will be alone…

Notes: i know this snippet isn’t about the main couple in this fanfic idea but i’d like for them to share the spotlight with levi and sayuki. i think it’s important to not focus on only certain characters in any story.

[starlyte-writes]

It’s that time again! Star info dumps about her D&D stuff despite nobody asking for it! This time I’m giving one section from each song on the playlist I made for my main character Nova that I think best shows why I picked that song for her.

Right, LET’S GO!

1) I’m Sorry by Swell:

So, bad first example, there’s only one line in this entire song, but mostly focus on the title and the vibe

2) Cut My Hair by Mounika and Cavetown:

Are you, you tired of me yet?

3) Saw Her Standing by Ballyhoo!

Left me standing here / Eyes welled up with tears / Drowning me alive in all my fears

4) Happy Pills by Weathers

I’m happy all the time / I’m happy all the time / I love my girl but she ain’t worth the price / She ain’t worth the price / No, she ain’t worth the price

5) Saint Bernard by Lincoln

You always said how you love dogs / I don’t know if I count, but I’m trying my best / When I’m howling and barking these songs

6) Stressed Out by Twenty One Pilots

My name’s Blurryface and I care what you think / My name’s Blurryface and I care what you think

7) Don’t You Give Up by Dansu

I don’t need no problems, oh, I just want sunny sky / I cannot live without you by my side / Don’t give up, don’t you give up on me / Don’t give up, don’t you give up on me

8) Your Sister Was Right by Wilbur Soot

Every time that I miss you / I feel the way you hurt / And I don’t deserve you / You deserve the world

9) Saline Solution by Wilbur Soot

If I could just break one more night / Maybe I could wake up and feel alright

10) Since I Saw Vienna by Wilbur Soot

The roads are my home, horizon’s my target / If I keep on moving, never lose sight of it / Treating my memory of you like a fire / Let it burn out, don’t fight it, and try to move on

11) Losing Face by Wilbur Soot

Well, I don’t know what I’m to do / Yes, I don’t know what I’ll fuckin’ do / I’ve lost all meaning / I’ve lost my sense of hope

or

I don’t care, I want you here / As long as you’re happy, I don’t care

12) I’m Sorry Boris by Wilbur Soot

I can’t believe that I’m leaving / I don’t think I want to leave you / I don’t think I want to leave you here alone

13) Disappear by Candlebard

Carries the world on his back, standing tall / Fearing one day, he’ll drop them all / Oh, he burns from the inside / When he sees himself sink

or

My memories are melting to foam (Disappear) / Watch me ruin another place I called home (Disappear) / On your face, the light dies (Ah) / As you gaze up in fear / And I watch it all / Disappear

14) Cause for Concern by Lovejoy

You could eat the foam from the headrest (I said there’s no cause for-) / You could knock the wind out of my breath (I said there’s no cause for-) / And you could kick the teeth into my head / Still, there’s no cause for concern

15) People I Don’t Like by UPSAHL

Hello, it’s so good to see you / We met before but nice to meet you / Yeah, I don’t really wanna be here like, ah-ah-ah-ah

16) Smile by Ukuletea

You don’t need to cry / Or show me sympathy / Don’t waste your time on me / I’m used to being alone / So step away from me

17) I DONT TRUST U ANYMORE by Left at London

I remember the days when / Your retched image didn’t make me sick / And I wish it could still be like that / But / I don’t trust you anymore / I don’t trust you anymore / I don’t trust you anymore / I don’t trust you anymore / I don’t trust you anymore / I don’t trust you anymore / You won’t trust us anyway

18) & by Tally Hall

Weak & Strong & / Wet & Dry & / Right & Wrong & / Live & Die & / Sane & Gone & / Love & Not & / All the &s that we forgot

19) Seventeen by Peach Pit

There’s something dark hangin’ over my head / I’m seventeen, don’t hold your breath

20) All Eyes On Me by Bo Burnham

Hey, come on, get your fuckin’ hands up / Get on out of your seats / All eyes on me, all eyes on me, yeah / Heads down, pray for me / Heads down now, pray for me

21) That Funny Feeling by Bo Burnham

Total disassociation, fully out your mind / Googling derealization, hating what you find / That unapparent summer air in early fall / The quiet comprehending of the ending of it all

22) Redesign Your Logo (Bonus Track) by Lemon Demon

Redesign your logo, we know what we’re doing / We are here to help you, everything’s connected / Time is of the essence, we live in the future / Color makes us hungry, everything’s connected

23) Mrs Narcissistic by The Royston Club

Why do I risk it all for you / For you / You talk with such venom in your words / Always fighting to be heard / With blatant disregard for what we fought for

24) overwhelmed by Royal & the Serpent

Feels like I’m somebody else / I get overwhelmed / All of these faces who don’t know what space is / And crowds are shut down, I’m over-stimulated / Nobody gets it, say I’m too sensitive / I can’t listen cause I’m eyeing the exits

25) It’s Raining Somewhere Else by Toby Fox

No lyrics in this song but again the ~vibes~

26) Don’t Forget by Toby Fox

That’s still shining in the cold / With the truth / The promise in our hearts / Don’t forget / I’m with you in the dark

(basically the whole song but these lines especially)

27) Don’t Look Back In Anger - Remastered by Oasis

Where nobody knows / If it’s night or day / But please don’t put your life in the hands / Of a rock and roll band / Who’ll throw it all away

28) You’ll Understand When You’re Older by Lovejoy

If I’m goin’ down you’re coming with me / And you think that it gets better / Just you wait until next week / You’re keeping a dark secret / But you’re talking in your sleep

29) Sweet Hibiscus Tea by Penelope Scott

Here’s the thing, I can’t do anything right / Try as I absolutely, totally might 

or

And I’m not your protagonist / I’m not even my own / I don’t know anything / I don’t even know what I don’t know

30) Karma by AJR

Cause I’ve been so good, I’ve been working my ass off / I’ve been so good, still, I’m lonely and stressed out / I’ve been so good, I’ve been so good this year / And I’ve been so good, but it’s still getting harder / I’ve been so good, where the hell is the karma? / I’ve been so good, I’ve been so good this year

31) Era by Halfy & Winks

An era, life is calling but we stay / An era, time is ticking as it may / An era, oh, I hope and wish and pray / This era will never fade away

32) Camp Adventure by Delta Sleep

How’s one meant to grow / When walls keep caving in / The ceiling above us / Has denied its existence in / Of all the times we tried / I’ve still be up all night / Writing songs of you

33) A Burning Hill by Mitski

I’m tired of wanting more / I think I’m finally worn / For you have a way of promising things / And I’ve been a forest fire / I am a forest fire / And I am the fire and I am the forest / And I am a witness watching it

34) I Can’t Handle Change by R.O.A.R.

I can’t help but repeat myself / I know it’s not your fault / Still lately, I begin to shake / For no reason at all

35) Birds (ft. Terrence Williams Jr.) by Thomas Sanders

I wanna watch from somewhere undisturbing / Quiet, calm, still / Sit right here and gaze at the unknown / I don’t wanna fly in the sky, I just wanna be alone / It’s not a big deal or anything / I just wanna be alone

36) Home (Music Box) by Toby Fox

Again, vibes, but also the title is important

37) Anchor by Mindy Gledhill

There are those who think that I’m strange / They would box me up and tell me to change / But you hold me close and softly say / That you wouldn’t have me any other way

38) On the Borderline by Thomas Sanders

I’m standing on the borderline / What should I bring or leave behind / From who I was / For who I’m gonna be?

39) That Distant Shore (ft. Jennifer Paz) by Steven Universe

I thought I’d stay a while / I tried to learn to smile / So many colors I had never even known / Maybe I’ll find myself sitting on that distant shore / Maybe I’m not alone

40) How Does A Moment Last Forever (Music Box) by Kevin Kline

How does a moment last forever? / How can a story never die? / It is love we must hold onto / Never easy, but we try

41) feelings are fatal by mxmtoon

I’m happy for you, I’m smiling for you / I’d do anything for you, for you / It’s always for you and never for me / And I need it to stop, so let me tell you, please / I’m always sad and I’m always lonely / But I can’t tell you that I’m breaking slowly

42) I’m Just Your Problem (ft. Olivia Olson) by Adventure Time

It’s like I’m not even a person, am I? / I’m just your problem, well / I shouldn’t have to justify what I do / I shouldn’t have to prove anything to you / I’m sorry that I exist / I forget what landed me on your blacklist, but / I shouldn’t have to be the one that makes up with you, so

43) Show & Tell by Melanie Martinez

Why is it so hard to see? (Why?) / If I cut myself, I would bleed (kill me) / I’m just like you, you’re like me / Imperfect and human, are we?

or

Buy and sell (buy and sell) / Like I’m a product to society / Art don’t sell / Unless you fucked every authority / Show and tell / Why can’t you fucking hear me?

44) Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish

I don’t relate to you / I don’t relate to you, no / Cause I’d never treat me this shitty / You made me hate this city

45) Lost Cause by Billie Eilish

Something’s in the air right now / Like I’m losing track of time / Like I don’t really care right now, but maybe that’s fine / You weren’t even there that day / I was waitin’ on you

46) xanny by Billie Eilish

What is it about them? / I must be missing something / They just keep doing nothing / Too intoxicated to be scared / Better off without them / They’re nothing but unstable / Bring ashtrays to the table / And that’s about the only thing they share

47) idontwannabeyouanymore by Billie Eilish

Losing feeling is getting old / Was I made from a broken mold? / Hurt, I can’t shake / We’ve made every mistake / Only you know the way that I break

or

If “I love you” was a promise / Would you break it, if you’re honest? / Tell the mirror what you know she’s heard before / I don’t wanna be you / I don’t wanna be you / I don’t wanna be you / Anymore

48) listen before i go by Billie Eilish

Tell me, love is endless, don’t be so pretentious / Leave me, like you do (like you do) / If you need me / Wanna see me / Better hurry / Cause I’m leaving soon / Sorry, can’t save me now / Sorry, I don’t know how

49) Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County

The great protector / Is that what I’m supposed to be? / What if all this counts for nothin’ / Everything I thought I’d be? / What if by the time I realize / It’s too far behind to see?

50) Stressed Out by Rex Orange County

I let them take control and take me for a fool / It’s such a shame / I never said a word and all time that I waited was a waste / They wanna see me stressed out every day, I know it

51) The Owl House: Lilith’s Fight Song “Black Enchantress” (Fanmade) by Frostfm

This one’s on here cause one of the players in our party asked what our battle theme would be during a fight and this is what I chose for Nova (and happened to find a version of it on Spotify so dope!)

52) Lavender’s Blue by Nursery Rhymes 123

Nova’s father used to always sing this song to her as a child so I put it on the playlist 🥺

53) Feel Better by Penelope Scott

Cause someone loved me, someone fucking loved me / Someone fucking loved me, and I loved them too / Goddamn it, I was worth something, I fuckin’ earned something / I have a right to die, a right to live, a right to choose, too / And God, no!

or

No one’s ever gonna love me like that again / I don’t wanna get over it / I wanna rip the stars to shreds / I don’t wanna feel better

54) Wait for Me (Reprise) by Hadestown

I’m coming wait for me / I hear the walls repeating / The falling of our feet and / It sounds like drumming / And we are not alone / I hear the rocks and stones / Echoing our song / I’m coming

Fun fact - My DM is the one who suggested this song for Nova

55) It’s Over Isn’t It (ft. Deedee Magno Hall) by Steven Universe

Who am I now in this world without her? / Petty and dull, with the nerve to doubt her / What does it matter? It’s already done / Now I’ve got to be there for her son / It’s over, isn’t it? / Isn’t it? / Isn’t it over?

56) What If Tomorrow Comes by Starkid

Tomorrow will come / Tomorrow won’t come / Will tomorrow come today? / And turn the light off / Do you all see what I see? / What I know / What I see / Do you all see the memories? / Tomorrow reminds me

57) Almost There by Princess and The Frog

And I’m almost there / I’m almost there / People down here think I’m crazy / But I don’t care / Trials and tribulations / I’ve had my share / There ain’t nothing gonna stop me now / Cause I’m almost there

58) Disobedient (ft. Kate Micucci and Michaela Dietz) by Steven Universe

Good afternoon, sir / What can I do, sir? / Just say the word, sir / Anything for you, sir

or

I’ve been good, sir / So very, very good for what? / And I’ve given you / Every single thing I’ve got / It’s feeling strange, man / This whole arrangement / Is gonna end with me totally deranged / When I think about all the wasted time I’ve spent / I wanna be disobedient

59) I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire by Kerrin Connolly

I don’t want to set the world on fire / I just want to start / A flame in your heart / In my heart, I have but one desire / And that one is you

60) Flowers by Hadestown

Dreams are sweet until they’re not / Men are kind until they aren’t / Flowers bloom until they rot and fall apart / Is anybody listening? / I open my mouth and nothing comes out / Nothing / Nothing gonna wake me now

or

Flowers, I remember fields of / Flowers, soft beneath my heels / Walking in the sun / I remember someone

61) I Do Adore by Mindy Gledhill

Finding words, I mutter / Tongue-tied, twisted / Foot in mouth, I start to stutter / Ha, ha, Heaven help me / Hello, how are you, my darling, today? / I fall into a pile on the floor / Puppy love is hard to ignore / When every little thing you do, I do adore

62) Fight for Me by Heathers

So who might you be? / And could you fight for me? / And hey, could you face the crowd? / Could you be seen with me and still act proud? 

or

It’s fine, if you don’t agree / But I would fight for you / If you would fight for me

63) Basics in Behavior - Blue Version by The Living Tombstone and OR3O

And I’m here wonderin’ if one day / We’ll finally be free from this cage / Is it okay to have a feelin’ / That maybe there is more to this game? / However now, no time to question / So just behave

64) It’s Been A Long, Long Time (with Harry James & His Orchestra) by Kitty Kallen and Harry James

You’ll never know how many dreams / I’ve dreamed about you / Or just how empty they all seemed without you

(The main reason this song was added is because another player in my partied played the song as Nova’s love interest died </3)

65) Hug All Ur Friends by Cavetown

You don’t know what it’s like to be nothing at all / When the night turns cold my thoughts feel like stone / And it’s nothing I can’t change / But I can’t breathe anymore / I forgot how to walk by myself

or

So hug all your friends and let them know / You’re not letting go / No, I won’t let go

66) Everything Stays (feat. Olivia Olson) by Adventure Time

Everything stays, but it still changes / Every so slightly, daily and nightly / In little ways / When everything stays

67) Look Who’s Inside Again by Bo Burnham

I was a kid who was stuck in his room / There isn’t much more to say about it / When you’re a kid and you’re stuck in your room / You’ll do any old shit to get out of it

or

Well, well / Look who’s inside again / Went out to look for a reason to hide again / Well, well / Buddy, you found it / Now, come out with your hands up / We’ve got you surrounded

68) Goodbye by Bo Burnham

Wanna guess the ending? If it ever does / I swear to God that all I’ve ever wanted was / A little bit of everything, all of the time / A bit of everything, all of the time

69) Top of My School by Katherine Lynn-Rose

But if I hadn’t earned a dollar / What would you think of your dear daughter? / Would it be pity or dishonor / To ensue? / And if I failed to earn blue ribbon / How could I ever be forgiven? / Tell me what love would still be given / From you

70) Girl Anachronism by The Dresden Dolls

There I go again / Pretending that I’ll fall / Don’t call the doctors / Cause they’ve seen it all before / They’ll say just / Let her crash / And burn / She’ll learn / The attention just encourages her

71) How To Let Go by August Greenwood

I fear almost everything / I don’t have the option to break / Cause all of the people I love have their lives at stake / I feel so selfish / I feel so insecure when I’m in pain / Please don’t hold me / I wouldn’t know how to let go

72) The Fall by Lovejoy

And we’re so calm but we’re (fucking scared, fucking scared) / And we’re so calm but we’re fucking scared of people like you

or

So come on, one and all to see the apathy / The reams of gray stencils that fill the tapestry / I look to all of you and see a different fucking species / Aspiration for a different destination to me

73) Clint Eastwood by Gorillaz

Finally someone let me out of my cage / Now time for me is nothin’, cause I’m countin’ no age / Now I couldn’t be there, now you shouldn’t be scared / I’m good at repairs, and I’m under each snare

(I mostly put this song here because it gave me the vibes of possession like when Orcus possessed Nova (or at least tried to))

74) Call Me What You Like by Lovejoy

You can call me what you like / As long as you call me / And you could kiss the skin from my lips / If it makes you feel good / I’m not sure if you want it / Not sure if you need me too

or

This just in / I am a total fucking dumbass / And I’ve come to the uncomfortable conclusion / I’ll be spending the rest of my life in a state of constant paranoia / Just let me follow you

or

I’m not paranoid, I’m a realist / I know you’re gonna kill me!

or

But you can’t stay awake forever / No you can’t stay awake forever

(basically this entire song is perfect LMAO)

75) Seventeen by Heathers

Let us be seventeen / If we still got the right / So what’s it gonna be? / I wanna be with you / I wanna be with you / Wanna be with you / Tonight / Yeah we’re damaged / Badly damaged / But your love’s too good to lose / Hold me tighter / Even closer / I’ll stay if I’m what you choose / Can’t we be seventeen? / If I am what you choose / If we’ve still got the right / Cause you’re the one I choose / You’re the one I choose / You’re the one I choose

76) Oblivion by Halfy & Winks

Would I be descending through the darkness / Through the fire and the rain and the mist? / Would the air fail to catch me as I failed to catch you? / Would we have fallen? / Fallen / Into oblivion?

77) Rhinestone Eyes by Gorillaz

A clear target in the summer when skies are blue / It’s part of the noise when winter comes / It reverberates in my lungs / Nature’s corrupted in factories far away / Here we go again

78) The Perfect Pair - Spotify Singles covered by Lovejoy (song by beabadoobee)

If I told you, you know how to / Go and break my heart in two

or

There’s worse things I can take / I know you hate it / When there’s nothing to say / I’m not sure we’d fix it / Guess we’re so used to it

79) Something Real by Schmigadoon!

I can’t tell you what you’re feeling / I can’t tell just what you feel / But touch my hand and I am reeling / Feels like this is something real

80) Scum by Lovejoy

I feel I’ve reached the end before I’ve reached death (oh-woo) / Pick up the pieces of me, you can have what’s left

81) Warsaw by Lovejoy

It’s good for me, I’m sure, I’m sure it’s good for me / I thought / I’d do anything you ask of me, that’s sure / What for?

or

It doesn’t get any better / You can try and try / But you’re just a cog in the machine / Apathy comforts me like a cell comforts an inmate / It won’t get better, I assure you / Make no mistake, we’re all going to end up in the dirt / I’ll be seeing you soon

or

She hopes to God that I just choke / She hopes to God that I just choke / She hopes to God that I just choke / And it gets a little easier

82) Consequences by Lovejoy

Do you ever feel like you fell off for about a year / I’d like to have another go / Cause I haven’t slept in about a week / I stay up thinking I will die

or

I wish I tried more, wish I tried more / Wish I tried / What’s this? / The consequences of my actions, now

(Lovejoy you understand Nova on a scary perfect level)

83) Alone by Nicholas Hamilton

Alone is not what it once was / Oh, remember when it was nice / Alone is just trying to survive / When the only one to talk to is your mind / Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh / But I’m getting pretty sick of my mind

84) The Hero by Nathan Hanover Synthonic Orchestra (GenLoss Soundtrack)

There’s no lyrics but this theme just fits Nova so well especially with the implications of “The Hero” and how that effected gl!Ranboo just trust me on this one

85) Disco! in the Panic Room by Bug Hunter

I am more the quiet type / I tend to be a shier guy / As safe as knee and elbow pads in cul de sacs with traffic lights / I spend most of my time alone / It’s not all that bad you know / I lost some weight from anxious pacing talking on the telephone

or

If I look brave I’m secretly / Pretending I’m a different me / The one on stage who plays and / Sings and claps and shouts and basically / Behind the door / Just out of view / Dancing in the panic room

86) Promise by Laufey

Honestly, I didn’t think about / How we didn’t say goodbye / Just see you very soon / It hurts to be something / It’s worse to be nothing with you

or

I’ve done the math / There’s no solution / We’ll never last / Why can’t I let go of this?

--

That’s the whole playlist! I started this post a year ago but never finished it and last night was the last session of our main campaign (at least until we can hopefully pick things up next summer) so I figured it’d be a good time to post it. I love my baby and honestly I’m pretty proud of this playlist, so here you go internet :D

[green-ville]

Run Boy Run Part 2

Who Is She?

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

             Wednesday Addams stared, which wasn't unusual for her, but normally when she stared the person she stared at walked away, freaked out. It was unusual to be able to stare at someone without them walking away. Less fun. She liked when they put up a fight.

           "I guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here."

           Wednesday turned; black eyes on Xavier Thorpe. His leg was in a cast, he was leaning on two crutches in the doorway. Consequences to his heroics, he suffered a broken leg.

           "You do have a habit of getting yourself involved, don't you?"

           She turned back around, staring at the girl. She greeted him like she greeted most, with an accusatory, monotone dialect. "You've seen her too."

           He stood beside her, hands holding the crutch handles while hers were crossed over her chest.

           He nodded. "I have."

           "And?"

           "And," he drew out the word, "what?"

           "Don't play dumb, its beneath you."

           His head tilted. "That was almost a compliment. Enid's been rubbing off on you."

           The thought frightened her. She had been going for insulting.

           Her finger tapped on her arm. Her calculating gaze swept to the heart monitor. Steady. She assessed her injuries again, wishing she could see beneath the bandages. They were on her hand and her head. Tape pulled the smaller cuts together. An IV ran into the back of her right hand. She had a face mask on, infusing oxygen. 7 liters. She was having difficulty breathing. Likely the broken ribs.

           "I don't know what to think," Xavier finally admitted. "When I saw her, she was in danger." He nodded his head back and forth, inner turmoil battling, before he further conceded, "and my last dream of her wasn't the nicest."

           "You saw her die."

           "I saw her fall," he corrected. "Does this match up with what you've seen?"

           She had gotten better control over her powers. She could almost sense when something was going to reveal itself to her. It took some of the fun away, she had liked the surprise of suddenly passing out to a vision, but she supposed this was better for other people.

           For example; now.

           She knew, without a shadow of a doubt and she loved her shadows, that as soon as she touched the girl, something was going to happen. She hesitated because there was a sinking (another thing she adored) suspicion that that it wasn't going to turn out well. It wasn't that Wednesday minded torture, she'd consider it a favorite hobby actually, but the last time she tortured someone things got messy and she was working on being tidy.

           She hated sloppy work, and she hated it even more when it came from her.

           "What's going on in that head of yours Wednesday?" Xavier asked, looking down at her leering figure.

           She glanced to him, then glanced back. "I didn't see her fall."

           "What did you see?"

           "I. . ." she paused, realizing with disgust that Enid was rubbing off on her, because she was about to do the worst thing that had ever been invented. Share. "I saw her die. She should have died."

           "Maybe she did? I mean, sometimes people's hearts stop?"

           She shook her head, and moved away from him, needing space. She stood at the foot of the bed, staring her down. She moved to the opposite side of the bed, as if the different point of view would offer better insight.

           Xavier coughed. "You uh, you gonna do your seer thing?"

           This is why she didn't make friends. They never shut up. Couldn't he figure out that she needed silence in order to think? Was it that difficult to perceive?

           "How did you know she'd be there today?" Wednesday settled for asking.

           Xavier shrugged. "I didn't, but I've been walking past the main doors a lot. Guess I was nervous. You?"

           "I like to sit on the roof when it rains. Helps me think."

           He did his version of a smile; a smirk with a downward shake of his head. "So come on, tell me what you're thinking. Another interesting semester ahead of – "

           Wednesday's eyes blew open, her back arched, arms going rigid, reaching out towards the ground. Her head bent back, her feet stumbled in a half circle, and she collapsed to the ground, hitting a chair on the way down.

           Xavier yelled out her name, got a crutched step towards her, and then the girl on the bed moved. He faltered, staring at her, panicked, as she arched off the mattress. Her head bent back, her wrists to the bed, her heels to the bed, supported in a way she shouldn't have been able to support herself. Her heart monitor spiked, and he yelled for the Doctor – just as the door slammed shut.

           Fire burst up from the ground along the wall, crawling up high and raging with a vicious passion. He bumped into the bed to get away from it, then remembered Wednesday, and stumbled over to her, pulling her away from the wall.

           The fire blocked out the surrounding world and managed to darken the room. His heart raced, fear seeping into his veins, and then he realized that, despite the fire, he wasn't warming up.

           He straightened up, no longer crouching besides Wednesday, she'd hate the proximity anyway, and looked at the fire.

           The walls were morphing. He blinked, thinking he was imagining it, but no, he wasn't. The walls were fading away, which was difficult to see because of the fire that encompassed it. Behind the flames there was a background of red. . .red and black. . .a large open space?

           Huff.

           He whirled, almost tripping over his crutches. No one was there, but he had definitely heard someone. When he turned back around, he saw it.

           A black creature running towards him, horns long, eye sockets a soul sucking abyss, claws wicked and gleaming. It jumped, about to make its way through the ten foot high wall of fire.

           Xavier fell back, crutches discarded, and hit the bed. Bumped the girl on the bed, who was still arched off of it. The second he came into contact with her the world returned to normal. The fire zipped back down, eradicating itself. The demon thing disappeared. Walls and windows and opened doors formed around him.

           The girl behind him plopped down onto the bed, heart monitor slowing down.

           Xavier still hadn't moved when Wednesday stood. Her eyes narrowed at him. His accelerated breathing. His shock slapped face. His unstable position.

           She was clearly going to ask him a question; he beat her to it.

           "What the hell was that Wednesday?" His voice was strained, hoarse from fear. His dreams had never been like that before. Was that what hers were always like?

           "You were there?"

           "Yeah! Where the hell were you?"

           "I didn't see you."

           "Well I was definitely there, and this demon thing almost killed me!"

           Her lips pierced. She opened her mouth, prepared to speak, likely offer some non-answer, but she didn't even grace him with that. Her gaze shifted to directly behind Xavier.

           Xavier fumbled into a stand, grabbing his crutches, and when he turned around, his suspicions were rendered true.

           She was awake.

           She took the face mask off, the sound of air still pushing through it but louder now without her wearing it. She looked from Xavier to Wednesday, back again.

           "Who are you?"

           "Who are you?" Wednesday asked right back. "And why aren't you dead?"

           Xavier gave Wednesday a look. She didn't break.

           "What day is it?" The girl asked.

           "What was chasing you?" Wednesday asked.

           "September 2nd," Xavier supplied.

           She blinked at him, surprised. "The 2nd? Really? It's not the 1st?"

           "No? You've been asleep since your accident yesterday."

           "How did you get onto the roof?" Wednesday asked.

           "It's really the 2nd?"

           "What is with your fixation on the date?" Wednesday asked.

           She exhaled, filled with soft, fine crackles. "My. . .my head hurts. . .what happened? What roof?"

           Xavier spoke before Wednesday could hit her with another question. "You showed up at Nevermore Academy, ended up on the roof? You were dangling from the gutters. Do you remember this?"

           Her forehead furrowed. Her hand covered the lines. It was clear even without verbalization, she was struggling to think right now. There had been a lot of blood under her head. He knew she had hit it; he just didn't know how hard.

           "I. . ." She looked Xavier, then flittered away, staying on Wednesday. "I'm supposed to be dead."

           Wednesday nodded, arms crossing over her chest. "Finally," her voice was dryer than sand. "Something we agree on."

~

           Giavanna was helped to sit up straighter; it aided her breathing. She refused to put the oxygen mask on again, it was annoying and got in the way. Because of this, she felt short of breath, but she'd deal with that.

           Just like she'd deal with all the other pain she was in, and it was a tremendous amount.

           The two kids, really teenagers her own age, were told to leave the room. Replacing them, a Dean of a school, a Sheriff, and a Doctor.

           At first there was an assessment. Cognitive, physical, emotional. She had to rate her pain, she had to identify her name, the date, the place she was in, and the current president. She was asked how she was feeling.

           "I'm supposed to be dead."

           "Why is that dear?" The Dean inquired, a lovely lady with brunette hair swept into a 40's style fitting for her makeup.

           Giavanna frowned. "I. . .I don't know. I knew, but I. . .I can't remember. I wasn't supposed to live past my 16th birthday."

           "When was that?" The Sheriff asked, voice gruff. She would've believed him disinterested if she didn't first believe he always looked and sounded like that.

           "Yesterday. The 1st. It's the 2nd today. . .I was being chased, and. . . and I got out. I made a portal-"

           "So you're an outcast?" The Sheriff cut in.

           "Sheriff Galpin," The Dean smiled, politically polite, eyes oozing pointed correction.

           The Sheriff coughed. "You, er, have magic?"

           "I'm a witch," Giavanna agreed. "I, I made a portal, to get away. I was being chased."

           "You said that already," Sheriff Galpin said.

           "Sheriff, normally we let the patients talk freely," The Doctor, who wore a nametag that identified him as 'Johnson', responded.

           The Sheriff nodded. "Apologies." He didn't seem apologetic.

           "I messed up the spell, and I, well," she frowned. "I don't know where I was trying to go. I've never heard of Nevermore, but that's where I appeared?" She looked to the Dean for confirmation.

           The Dean nodded. "Yes dear."

           "Well, then I guess I'll be on my way then? I should go find my parents," that phrase felt wrong on her tongue, but she had no idea what else to say. She swept her legs over the edge of the bed, felt a wave of dizziness hit her, and still would have kept going if Doctor Johnson hadn't put a hand on her shoulder. "I can't discharge you yet Miss. You're not stable."

           Giavanna may not have had the best memory right now; what she did remember? She hated, beyond all else, being told no. Any form of it. Straight out, indirect "you can't do this!"; it didn't matter how it was said, the ending was the same.

           Giavanna hated it.

           Her lips curled. "I don't recall asking for permission, Doctor Johnson. I've already stayed in one place for too long, I've probably lost most of my distance."

           The Sheriff picked up on this. "You think you're still being chased?"

           "I know it."

           "And how do you know this?"

           "I. . ." she stopped. How did she know this?

           The Sheriff nodded, making his point. "You're disoriented. You hit your head pretty hard. You have no parents or family nearby to my knowledge. Even if the Doctor discharged you, as the Sheriff I can't just let you run away. It's either stay here, or I'll be driving you to the nearest major city for CPS."

           "What?" Giavanna demanded. "You can't do that!" Her hand went to her aching ribs. She shouldn't raise her voice.

           "I can," the Sheriff corrected. "You're an unaccompanied minor that's got some serious damage. Three broken ribs, a bruised sternum, a bruised back, a cracked head and a minor concussion. Lacerated palm with three stitches," he assessed his notes. . . "oh, how could I forget, and you fell four stories. You would have died if Mr. Thorpe didn't break your fall," he paused, "with his body. While I can't say parental abuse off this alone, I can make a very good case for negligence or abandonment – "

           "Sheriff Galpin," The Dean cut in, that painted smile the picture of perfection. "A word outside, please?"

           He paused, clearly considering saying no, but nodded, and stood. The two adults left the room, abandoning Giavanna to Doctor Johnson.

           He checked his watch. "Well, if you'll allow me, I'd like to do your vitals again."

           Giavanna snapped her fingers. The Doctor's eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

           She shut off the IV infusion, and then disconnected the line from the j loop. The j loop was the catheter into her vein. She kept that in place, not feeling comfortable pulling it out. She stood, and immediately sat back down, overwhelmingly lightheaded. She also got a wash of cold from the back of her gown being open and her plans changed; she wanted to put clothes on first.

           Her clothes were nowhere to be found. She looked down at her gown. It would have to do, but that didn't mean she couldn't restyle.

           "I haven't looked good in a long while, turn this gown into the latest style," she commanded, and sparkles reigned down from above her head. She didn't look, wanting the surprise, but she did feel the difference. Feel the fabric tighten around her chest, disappear from her waist, and tighten at her hips. When it was done, she looked down at her outfit.

           Same fabric, but a short sleeve crop top with extra padding in the chest to support the girls. A matching skort (skort, not skirt, that was very important) that definitely said early 2000's Clueless girl. Shorter than she normally wore but beggars couldn't be choosers.

           "Good job magic," she praised, which was basically praising herself. "Now we just have to get out." And that was easy enough. She went to the window and cast another spell.

           "Before my past catches up to bite me in the ass, dissolve this window and take me to the grass!"

           The glass puffed into sand, coating the windowsill and falling onto the floor in front of it.

           Giavanna leaned out of the window, assessing the situation. The coast was clear. She started climbing out, grabbing onto the outside, and then began to shimmy down. It was a bit of a breezy day but she was safe thanks to her trusty skort. She was one floor down when a head appeared out of her window.

           It was the Sheriff.

           "Damnit kid!"

           "It's wrong to swear!" Giavanna informed, continuing to climb down.

           He cursed again, leaving the window. The Dean poked her head out, saw the situation for herself, and then disappeared as well.

           Giavanna got her way safely down, grateful for the older exterior that offered a multitude of places for her to jam her hands and feet. On the ground, she wiped her hands together and started to jog. No, she wasn't barefoot. She had been wearing her grippy socks (standard for every patient, actually disproven for lessening fall risks) and those morphed into converse. Because in a time like this, what she needed? No foot support.

           At least it wasn't flipflops.

           She turned down the street and almost body slammed an elderly man. "Sorry!" She called out, swerving just in time.

           She found a motorcycle free for the taking and swung her leg over it.

           "Don't make me find this key, start this engine and let's flee!"

           The engine thrummed beneath her and she kicked up the stand, shifting out of neutral into first gear. She pulled away from the curb, and that's when the knife landed into the front tire. It deflated, air seeping out, and she almost lost her balance.

           Giavanna separated herself just before the motorcycle tilted over, and she scrunched up, hating the sound of it hitting the ground.

           Her hands went to her hips. She looked at the girl in black. "I hope you plan to pay for that tire."

           "Stop running, we can help you."

           "I don't need help; I need to get out of here."

           "And what are you going to do after that?" The girl demanded. "Keep running? If you were supposed to die, whatever was sent after you won't stop until its fulfilled its purpose. You'll be on the run forever."

           "This doesn't concern you at all."

           "When you interfere with my life, clouding my visions, then it concerns me," the girl was getting closer, but Giavanna wasn't stepping back. She was off the sidewalk now, fifteen feet away.

           Giavanna picked up on that. "Visions? You have. . .you're like me?"

           "We all are."

           She whirled, backing up, finding the cute boy from earlier. The one with long hair and his leg in a cast.

           "That's Wednesday Addams, I'm Xavier Thorpe." Thorpe. The Sheriff had mentioned him. He broke her fall? "We're both seers that go to Nevermore Academy," he explained, and she was more okay with him, because he hadn't bombarded her with questions she couldn't answer. He answered her questions. "It's a school for outcasts."

           "What a nice motto," she snarked.

           "We can help you," Wednesday Addams said, closer yet again. Ten feet away. "Whatever's chasing you, we'll help you stop it, and kill it. That way you don't have to run. Or do you prefer to cower?"

           Her face twisted. "I wasn't cowering."

           "Then what were you doing? Why isn't it already dead?" She had one tone, and it was accusation.

           "It's not as easy as it looks."

           Xavier nodded, "so you need help. Let us help you, please. You don't have to do this alone."

           She took a step away from the both of them, not liking the proximity. Her arms wrapped around her exposed torso. She liked the offer, which is what scared her, because deep down, she knew it wasn't safe. "I. . .I can't. It's not safe for anyone to be near me. Just, please, forget you ever saw me."

           Wednesday stepped closer. "I promise that I will help you. If you run away, understand that I will follow you. So you can either stay here, and we can grow stronger on familiar territory, or you can make everything unnecessarily difficult by engaging in a meaningless game of cat, mouse, and mouse trap. You," pointed, as everything out of her was, "being the mouse."

           Giavanna stepped back again. She glanced to Xavier. "Is she always like this?"

           He smirked. "This is her playing nice." Then he nodded. "But we can help you. Please. This uh, isn't our first rodeo with monsters."

           Unease set in, a chill sweeping up her arms. She knew, without knowing why, that they had never faced her issue before. Hadn't even come close.

           "Why do you want to help?" Giavanna asked, specifically to Wednesday. "Why are you so adamant on it?" Saying even that she'd follow her just to help? It didn't seem in character for the detached girl.

           Wednesday grinned, painted lips pulling up. "It's a hobby."

           "Helping people?"

           "No," Xavier sighed. "Murder mysteries."

           The Sheriff burst around the corner; the Dean hot on his tail. He saw the group of teenagers and stopped, the Dean barreling into his back. He was stable enough to not fall, and she righted herself, pulling down her coat.

           "Ms. Addams, Mr. Thorpe, you've, you've stopped her?" The Dean seemed surprised by this, like she couldn't fathom the two of them doing anything helpful.

           "She hasn't agreed yet." Wednesday took another step closer, pinning her with her black gaze. A black gaze so different from whatever creature vaguely circled in her mind. Her hands crossed in front of her, folded over each other. "So, will you stay, and accept help, or will you run, and begin another chase?"

           It kinda felt like she wanted Giavanna to run just for her own personal fun. Giavanna had known Wednesday Addams for five minutes, and already it seemed as if the girl had an altered outlook on life, which included different definitions of fun.

           "It's either stay or CPS," Sheriff clarified.

           Giavanna scowled. "I don't like you."

           He put a hand over his heart. "Owe."

           She stifled a smile, then looked around. Avoiding gazes, taking in the scene. She was shaking from the cold. When she did answer, it was slow, hesitant, uncertain. She was making a terrible, horrible, decision. And yet, she didn't see any other choice right now. She was disoriented, her thoughts jumbled, and having a seer on her side could prove helpful, even if it did mean endangering everyone. "Well. . .seeing as I don't really have very many options right now, then. . .I will stay."

           "Great choice kid," he nodded to her. "Now, who put the knife in the motorcycle and why was it Wednesday?"

[nymphastoriasblog]

MODERN!LUCA CHANGRETTA WITH A PREGNANT WIFE 🕊💞

this man is the epitome of elegancy, class and perfection. he’s my husband wish.

warnings: fluff.

requested by: @thereddahliaa (i hope you enjoy this)

nymphastoria’s masterlist

buy the chaotic author a coffee ☕️

when you first told Luca you were pregnant he was simply THE HAPPIEST MAN IN THE WOLRD

it has always been his biggest dream to become a father and you were the love of his life

he took you in his arms and hold you tenderly, kissing the top of your head and smiling

the rest of that day was just him planning everything, even the dresses you were going to use every month of your pregnancy

Luca already ordered to a bedroom in your house to be emptied and set up the new furniture for the baby

he couldn’t even sleep in the first days of pregnancy because of excitement

he was always praising you and saying how gorgeous you were carrying his baby and his legacy

he told his family and they all planned a big lunch on a sunday to congratulate you guys

your baby was only a bean in your belly but already had a ton of toys that was given by the Changretta’s family

Luca have chosen the names, you didn’t mind since you didn’t know any good name for your baby

but Luca has a great taste, as we all know, and choose the best and most unique names ever

He even took a break from business to spend more time with you

singing in italian to your bump every night

and holding you while sleeping, not letting you move an inch

he takes so much care of you, massaging your feet, brushing your hair, buying new lotions to use on you and massaging your back

he takes you to walks on a park near your house and to see ducks in a lake

he even got you a puppy because you said you wanted to

and luca’s was totally happy to get you snacks in the middle of night because of cravings

“Anything for my queen”

he saw on youtube and tried on you a thing

Luca sat on the bed, legs open and asked you to sit with your back on his chest and between his legs

you did that and he involved you on his arms and lifted your bump, releasing the weight for you for a couple minutes

that was enough to relief you, and Luca did that every night during the last three months of pregnancy

when you got into labour was pretty funny because Luca planned everything and was pretty confident about it

so when you started to feel the first pains he started to freak out and called his cousins to help you take you to the hospital

everything end up well, you gave birth to a little babygirl, Luca’s princess

Luca was so melted by the little human he was holding in his arms on the hospital that he forgot about you

He only had eyes for his girl

By that moment, Luca put on his mind that he would kill anyone who dare to look at his girl without his consent

It was his world right there, fitting is his hand

When he remembered that his wife was almost melting in the bed he gave the baby to the nurse (he didn’t want to, though) and kissed your forehead

He was there to take care of you all the time you were in the hospital and when you got home too

Remember when I said that the babygirl was Luca’s princess? I mean it

LUCA LITERALLY BOUGHT A TIARA FOR HIS BABY because she’s a real princess

Luca’s life goal was to spoil the baby and give her everything she wanted

Thats the purpose of his existence

He now could die happy, he has his queen and his princess

He obviously taught her to speak italian before english, which pissed you off but you find it cute after all

[steddiesupportgroup]

Man, for a show I’ve fallen in love with and had so much anticipation for, I ended up kinda wishing I hadn’t watched vol2.

Spoilers and a huge rant under the cut

The whole time I was literally shaking with nerves about what was gonna happen to Eddie, to all of them. His last moments (the whole last two eps honestly) dragged on for what felt like hours. It wasn’t fun; it was nerve wracking. And yeah, maybe it’s my bad for getting so attached to a fictional character in a show where people die, but so what? He makes us happy in a time where things aren’t going super well, brought us comfort. If we can’t use fiction as an escape, what’s the point of it?

All that aside, I’m still disappointed about other things. El saying goodbye to Brenner and finding her strength was great, as was the whole thing with Hopper, but other than that? I spent the whole four hours dreading what was gonna happen. I feel like they took the whole “all hope is lost” thing way too far. Watching Lucas hold Max while she begged to die made me fucking sick, as did watching Eddie sacrifice himself. I hate this trend of having people guess who’s gonna die, it’s just sad. Lucas getting beaten up by Jason, who, yeah he died, but didn’t get what he deserved. He was grieving and deranged, and then he was nothing.

And like they touched on Steve’s character arc for a split second before taking ten steps back. I don’t believe that he wants to get back with Nancy because he keeps finding new people in his life, new experiences that change his worldview. Why go back to a girl that is hung up on someone else? This isn’t even a steddie thing- they could’ve touched on his growth without involving her. He’s someone who protects people now, who keeps putting others before himself and doesn’t stop fighting no matter what. Maybe he doesn’t even need a canon relationship to find worth and value. The dream with the kids was cute, but he’s so much more than some guy who can save the world but can’t move on from his first love. I want them to have love for each other, but they both need more.

And man, Nancy and Jonathan are really dragging on. I like them as a couple, really! But couldn’t they have other conflict? Or keep the conflict without involving Steve? All that buildup for them to lie to each other about how good they are, it just doesn’t make sense. I expected Jonathan to tell her the truth about college, or have him circle back to thinking about what it would look like if they kept holding on.

And yeah, Robin and Vicki at the end was just some hetero “we don’t know how to write queer relationships” bullshit. Just because they’re both girls and can have things in common doesn’t mean they need to be the same person. Robin deserves better than that, even someone who knows what she’s been through (winking at you ronance shippers).

I knew Byler wasn’t gonna happen, but man, they really couldn’t have had Will and Jonathan have a better conversation? Even at the end? It’s like “everyone knows so it doesn’t need to be said” but why not?? How is Will any different from Robin, who is somehow the only character who can openly talk about her queerness? Because he’s a boy? Because he’s young and in love with his best friend? I don’t wanna watch him cry in the back of the van with Mike if they’re not gonna have some kinda resolution.

I am gonna keep talking about Eddie, actually. His death was wretched, yeah. But the thing that breaks my heart is that now his name is tainted beyond death, and the people who loved him are silenced and pushed to the side. The Munson Murders, what a tragic end for a character who was so loving, so kind and gracious to everyone around him. And how are the writers gonna act like no one else in the group is bothered by his supposed death? They got to know Eddie, they risked everything to save him, and you can’t tell me that it’s business as usual after all that. If he is dead, it’s the worst insult to his memory. Ya know what’s better than dying a hero? Getting justice! Living to see another day with the people who love you! He could’ve become a braver person if he lived and he was already a fucking hero, because just like Steve, he cares about the kids. I can’t imagine what Dustin will go through and I really don’t want to.

So yeah. I know that the writers won’t see this, but I hope with enough pushback they’ll revive his character. If they can do it with Brenner after having his brain turned to mush, they can do it with Eddie after getting the same wounds as Steve. Especially after El brought Max back from the dead.

And man don’t even get me started on Netflix feeding into the Eddie love the whole time, it feels so vicious of them. Rbing steddie fanart and acting like his character was going somewhere. Like we get that little tidbit about Eddie’s dad teaching him to hotwire a car and for what? To never see him again? I don’t believe it.

Okay, I need to stop. Thanks for reading, I’ll be writing a fix-it fic within the next few days <3

[n1k1tty]

kiss me ! part 1

jake was definitely head over heals for your cold personality, and he wasn't going to let anyone take you. but heres the problem: he couldn't find a single way to keep a conversation with you. despite your scary demeanour, jake decides to man up and does everything out of his will to get you.

fluff, jake x reader, (not proofread)

jake was frustrated to know that many guys have been after you the second you stepped in that classroom doing the bare minimum.

hearing ‘wanna grab lunch with me?’ here and there somehow always made him ball his fist to prevent himself from being a problem. yet again he couldn’t blame other people for wanting to ask you out either. he even sometimes wished that you had rejected him so he could move on. although of course he didn’t really mean that.

because now he was wandering around the school looking for you while he was on a “bathroom break” during his soccer practice. he knew you always liked to stay at the school rooftops admiring the view while listening to music. not like he was stalking you or anything...

you turn your head to look at the person at the door "you again? when are you going to leave me alone? pervert" you scoff, kicking the little pieces of rocks as you avoid jakes eyes. it was almost the millionth time you've seen jake this day, and it was always for the same reason, to piss you off, well more like ask you out --which still pisses you off.

you weren't one to believe in love, or maybe just not yet. because you weren't even sure if you were capable enough to love someone. even the thought of having to be so sweet and touchy with each other grossed you out, and of all people, jake especially knew that. so why was he so determined to get you to fall in love with him?

you weren't one to believe in love, or maybe just not yet. because you weren't even sure if you were capable enough to love someone. even the thought of having to be so sweet and touchy with each other grossed you out, and of all people, jake especially knew that. so why was he so determined to get you to fall in love with him?

"hmmm maybe never?" jake chuckles at the sight of you rolling your eyes "then i'll move schools --countries if that's what takes for you to leave me alone" as you turn around and face him, eyes widened at the thin space between the both of you "and maybe i'll find you"

you raise your eyebrows "well that's borderline criminal act" you wander off "now sim jaeyun i think it's best for you to leave before you add up to my anger --i mean you already are. but wouldn't that be horrible?" jake's eyes follow you as you drag your feet "not really" he states "you're hot when you're mad"

you scoff out of disbelief, hitting him hard on his arm, looking away almost immediately as you trying to hide your heated face "shut up before i'll push you off this building" letting go of the grip you once had on his collar, "alright, alright sorry ma'am. but if you're really mad for whatever reason, come with me. i'll take you to a place" he suggests, offering his hand for you to take "you should be happy. i normally wouldn't even consider letting anyone know about my spot" he shoots you a grin

you take time trying to consider his offer, but as much as you don't want to stroke his ego about convincing you to go with him, you really needed something to release your anger "as long as you shut up about this" you give him a side glance "no promises" he sends a wink your way "ugh, fine"

he gently takes your hand as he drags you out of the school "can you jump over the wall?" jake looks at your flustered face "....no..?" you answer, making a line with your lips, causing him to let out a small chuckle "okay cutie, i'll help you up" you cringe at the nickname "call me that again and i'll break your neck" you step on his knee as he tries to boost you up "yeah that's right, keep going"

but as jake looks up he couldn't help but feel flustered, looking away "i made it!" you pant, hands resting on your knees as you wait for jake to come up as well. but after a few seconds of not hearing him, you call out his name, peaking your head over the wall "jake? i swear to god if you leave me out here i'm killing you"

"n-no i didn't leave you" he stutters, trying to collect himself from being a flustered mess "then come up here! the sun is setting, you wouldn't want to miss it"

"y-yeah it's just that i uh, i saw.....your....you know?" he explains, his hands not knowing what to do "you saw my what!?" you shrieked "no no it's okay i looked away!" he reassures you "ugh, just- just come up here!" you yell, already walking ahead as you try to cool down your heating face "so pink aye?" jake jokes, catching up to you

"SIM JAEYUN!" you yell, kicking him on his ass "ow! okay sorry!"

jake was resting his head on his hands, watching as you play with the small puddle while watching the sunset, not even an hour in, jake panics as he sees the amount of missed calls from riki "oh shit! my soccer practice!"

--

the following days after that, almost everything remained the same, jake continuously teasing and flirting with you, you getting in trouble for the littlest things, never coming home until the latest of the hour. but yet again, almost everything remained the same

you were now in denial of your feelings towards sim jaeyun. it would hurt too much of your pride to actually admit it, because after all, you've always told sim jaeyun you hated him.

you groan "jake, there's a reason why i'm failing english, okay? just accept the fact that i'm the worst" you bury your head on the pages of your book, seated across jake at the back of the library "i didn't even ask for you to help me! i simply just asked for your notes that just happened to have a first grader's hand writing" he scoffs, a little taken back by your sudden insult on his hand writing "thanks? i know you didn't ask for help, i just wanted to do this with you so that you don't get detention for not knowing proper english" he explains, handing you another sheet of paper with an 54 circled on the right corner "seriously y/n? 54? come on, one last set of questions and i'll take you to the new cafe just across the street"

and almost immediately, you bring your head up, grabbing the pen and taking the set of questions. making jake giggle "y/n, just say that you like me, you know i'm not going to reject you-- ow!" you smack him on the head with the pencil "that's absolute nonsense!" you whisper with a harsh voice, digging your face on the note book as you try to cover the little smile you had on your face

i think it was safe to say you got 4 out of 10 right, causing you to almost have a mental breakdown at the library "i can't do this sim" you groan "i think you just need a break yeah? wanna head to the cafe?" jake stands up to pack your stuff, giggling at the sight of your head still buried in between the pages of the book "c'mon y/n" he kneels beside you "get up, let's go to that cafe"

you've never felt your pride hurt as much as this did, having to show jake how bad your were at english, him having to tutor you without you asking for help, and jake bringing you to the cafe even though you weren't even remotely close to getting at least 6 right

and you weren't exaggerating when when you say jake had to drag you all the way to the cafe "hi! what can i get for you today sir?" the girl says, the obvious heart eyes she has for him pissing you off even more "hi yeah i'd like to have a caramel machiatto" he responds politely, smiling at the obvious glare you held at the girl, poking out your tongue after she was called by the manager, an old lady replaces her "anything else for your girlfriend--" before you could correct her, jake immediately speaks up "she'll have (drink)"

he smiles at the old lady before paying "i'm sending you money later whether you like it or not" you roll your eyes "and i'll send it back" he holds your waist as he leads you to a table, causing your heart to beat 10 times faster "yeah? well i'll send it back to you again! i'll keep doing it until you die!" he scoffs at you "as if!"

--

even after multiple attempts of trying to make jake ask you out, the boy who you thought was so smart couldn't take a single hint at all.

but in jake's defence, you were a little bad, considering how bad you were with boys, he vividly remembers that one time when you were trying so hard to make him jealous by talking to other guys. he even laughed as you struggled to keep up with a conversation.

or that other time when you tried to hold his hand just to do something romantic just for once but ended up letting go because he wouldn't stop teasing you about it. he still took your hand, yet he never asked you out still.

"you okay darling?" your mother asks, taking a quick glance at your droopy form leaning on the counter as you wait for her to finish cooking "is it a boy?" she teases, making you perk your head up "i knew it!" she gives you an endearing smile as she gives you a plate with eggs on it, a heart shaped ketchup placed on the top of the egg "mom!" you whine

"okay fine, it is a boy. but don't tell dad" you whisper, smiling once she zips her lips "what's his name?" she asked, tilting her head as she leans on the counter in front of you "jake"

"jake?! i love jake! you should invite him over sometime" she squeals "he's a nice guy, i'm sure he wouldn't hurt you, so what's bothering you?" you sigh, taking a sip of the water "he likes me, it's like the whole world knows. but he just keeps on flirting with me and never actually tries to ask me out" you pout, aggressively taking a bit of the scrambled eggs, making your mother chuckle "oh baby, i'm sure it'll happen soon. just give him some time! unless if you're that impatient, then maybe you should try considering to be the one who makes the first move" she walks away, heading upstairs

no, as much as you hate it, that would hurt too much of your pride. so you decided to wait.

--

summer just had started and you couldn't even explain how much you hated the heat. staying under the shade 70% of the time whenever you went out with jake and his friends "guys! i have an announcement" jay yells, you were currently over at jay's house, just having a little party with just the 8 of you "my father booked us a trip to hawaii"

"WHAT?!"

part 2

— HEY 👵🏽 so i decided that this would be a multiple part story bcs i didnt want it to be too long!

i haven’t written the second part yet, but hopefully i’d have it done before tuesday

feel free to ask if you want to be tagged once the second chapter is out!

this has been n1k1tty! see ya!

[parkersbliss]

Tough | K. Brekker

pairing: kaz brekker x reader

warnings: blood, cursing, kaz being a simp

wc; 2K

synopsis: mission gone wrong… gone right?

prompts: 028: “hey, hey, hey, I’m right here.” 030: “you could’ve died!”

a/n: I don’t know how I always end up so off track

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

“This is ridiculous,” Jesper hisses, looking between you and Inej. “Someone tell him that!”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Tell Kaz to back out of a job? No way.”

“I prefer to keep my head,” Inej said.

Jesper rolls his eyes. “You’ll lose it either way at this point!”

“Jesper, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not! Do you realize how-”

“Shut up, Jesper,” Kaz scowled through the earpiece.

Jesper mumbles something under his breath, but you don’t catch it.

“How’s everything looking, Kaz?” Inej asked.

“One last round of guards, and then you two can come in.”

You nod, securing your gun in place as you stand up.

“If you two don’t come back, I told you so!” Jesper said.

“If we don’t come back, we probably ditched you,” You quip back.

Jesper scoffs, standing up. “At least I still have Wylan.”

“No, you don’t,” Wylan responded through the earpiece.

Jesper throws his hands in the air, “No one appreciates the voice of wisdom around here.”

“(Y/N), Inej, go.”

Inej takes the lead, climbing the gate and dropping safely on the other side. You follow after and make a run for the main entrance. You hide behind a column, holding your breath as two guards walk back to their posts. A hand sticks out from the opposite column on you, and Inej makes a hand signal that means go.

With what you hope are quiet footsteps, you emerge from behind the column and follow Inej to the hallway to the left. You patiently wait as two Grisha emerge from the bedrooms, and in the span of a few seconds, it takes the door to close; you both rush in.

Inej opens the closet, throwing you a kefta, and you gasp at the softness of the fabric.

“Do you think we can keep these?” You jokingly ask.

“Unless you want to be an even bigger target in Ketterdam: I’d advise not.”

“They’re bulletproof and warm,” You said, slipping on the blue kefta with red and yellow detailing.

Inej only hums as she slips hers on, which has green swirls embellished on it.

“Tidemaker,” You said.

“Inferni,” Inej replied. “Suits you.”

You both walk out of the bedroom, the kefta’s making it easier to walk through the palace undetected. The Grisha all automatically assumed you belonged there. They didn’t bother to take a good look at your face.

“Status?” Kaz asked.

“On track,” You said softly, passing by two Grisha’s.

Kaz nods on his side, dressed as a guard inside of the palace. He waits patiently by the door for the two of you. He can just barely spot Wylan in the distance, acting as a servant to the Queen.

She was too stuck up to ever notice or acknowledge any of the servant's names. Similar to the Mercher’s back in Ketterdam.

What snobs they are.

Kaz watches as you and Inej round the corner. The Kefta’s fit both of you surprisingly well. He nods at you two, giving Wylan one last glance before going to unlock the Queen’s room. His fingers and quick, and the lock cracks open in a few seconds.

In those few seconds, someone screams. You can hear Wylan laughing nervously before being pinned down by a guard.

Kaz instantly stops what he’s doing as you all watch the scene unfold. They disarm him, grabbing a remote and throwing it across the floor.

“Get back!” Kaz shouts as the button lands first onto the ground. There’s a moment of silence, utter stillness as you and Inej look toward the Queen’s room, and then it explodes. The blast echoes through the castle and shatters everything. Pieces of rumble rain down as the building begins to shake.

You slam against the adjacent wall, coughing at the dust and groaning. Blood trickles down from your forehead, and your entire body aches.

A low moan catches your attention, and you look up to see a crystal chandelier, cracks surrounding the ceiling it was attached to.

“(Y/N)!” You can hear Kaz scream as it gives way.

You don’t have enough time to get away, you know that. Your vision was still blurry, a loud ringing in your ears. You were too disoriented to even comprehend the idea of being pierced with the decorative piece.

But Kaz isn’t.

He lunges forward, tackling you to the opposite end and shielding you with his body. He’s holding his breath the entire time, counting in his head and reminding himself that it’s just you. If he lets go, then you’ll be dead.

Don’t let go. He repeats it like a mantra inside his head, focusing on the sound of glass shattering as you both skid across the floor.

Sharp glass shards pierce his jacket and skin, but he’s barely fazed by it. It gives him something else to focus on other than the feeling of you.

“Don’t move,” You said quietly, and you can see his eyes widen because by saints he needs to, or he’s going to pass out. “Kaz, if you move, you’re going to push a piece of glass further into yourself.”

He starts shaking his head because the feeling of you breathing under him is overwhelming. Your voice had snapped him out of his daze, and now he was fully aware and fully scared. He doesn't know why. It's you and you were the one person he wishes he could be able to touch, but right now, he can't.

“I can’t,” He whispers.

“Kaz, don’t.”

“Please.”

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m right here,” You assure. “I’m alive, okay? Just breathe slowly until I can get out.”

Kaz closes his eyes and breathes deeply. Every nerve in his body is screaming. It’s worse than the shard of glass sticking out of him. He can’t do it.

“Kaz!” You scream as he rolls off of you and onto the floor.

Almost instantly, the glass pierces through him, and he groans. There’s a huge shard sticking out of his stomach, and you can feel panic surging through you.

Your instincts overwhelm the pain, and your senses come rushing back to you. There’s no way you can grab the glass without cutting yourself in the process, and Kaz would bleed out before you can do anything.

“Kaz Brekker, don’t you dare die on me.”

“I’m not trying to,” He hisses back.

“Inej!” You shout, searching for the Suli girl through the rubble.

“A healer,” Kaz coughs out. “You look Grisha, call for a healer.”

You blink, still amazed how Kaz’s mind is still working, before standing up. “Healer!”

On cue, a girl with a red kefta and silver detailing runs over from the area where Wylan was. You don’t want to imagine how many others are hurt. Behind her is Inej, who nods at you, and you thank the saints for her.

“I need to get the glass out," The healer said.

You look at her, then back to Kaz. “Okay. I can do that. Trust me."

“What you did was stupid,” You said to Kaz, kneeling down by his side once more.

“You were going to die,” he protests weakly.

You slowly grip the glass tightly, trying to ignore the sharp sting of it as the jagged sides cut through your skin.

“You could’ve died!” You scowl, but Kaz could hear the fear in your voice. “You still could.”

“It’s better me than you.”

“No, it isn’t,” You reply, “Kaz, how can you not see it?”

“See what?”

“That I'm in love with you!”

His eyes widen, and at that moment, you grab the glass and yank it out. Kaz screams out in pain, shutting his eyes. “Fuck!”

It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him curse.

The healer jumps into action. She leans over Kaz, and with a single motion of her hand, stitches him up.

She looks at you, and before you can say anything, she heals the cut on your forehead and the gashes on your hands.

“Thank you,” You said.

She nods, and Inej thanks her as well before turning her attention back to you and Kaz. “We need to go, like now. Wylan’s already running out the door as we speak.”

You nod, looking to Kaz. “Okay, can you walk?”

Inej hands him his cane, and he uses it to steady himself. “I can.”

“Okay… can you run?”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Inej said, tugging on your kefta and gesturing to the guards eyeing you down.

“We’re running!” You announce, taking off with Inej and Kaz on your heels. The guards immediately start pursuing you, and you try to lose them in the many hallways.

“Where the hell is Jesper when you need him?”

“Right here!”

“I’m here as well!” Nina shouts, coming to a stop behind him. “The Kefta’s suit you two.”

“Thanks.”

Jesper winks before beginning to fire as Nina drops their heart rate.

“I take it the mission was unsuccessful?” Nina asked, turning to run when the guards become too many.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Jesper said.

“I would,” Kaz seethed.

“Yes, well, you happen to be the most pessimistic person here,” Jesper replied, firing a shot at an approaching guard.

“(Y/N) confessed her love for Kaz,” Inej said through labored breaths, finally reaching the exit.

Nina whirls to face you, “What?”

“About damn time,” Jesper grumbled, ignoring the look Kaz gives him.

You roll your eyes at him, grateful to see your getaway carriage on time.

“And then she pulled a piece of glass out of him,” Inej added, opening the door and hopping into the carriage.

“Oh wow, that’s really the cherry on top of it, isn’t it?” Jesper asked sarcastically.

“You guys are the only people that gossip while being chased down with guns,” Your driver, Matthias, chuckled.

“When else are we supposed to be doing it?” Nina asked, getting into the seat next to him and grabbing the reins.

“Oh sorry, didn’t realize there’s a time and place for it. I’ll stop being a criminal and getting chased now,” You sassily replied, climbing in behind Kaz.

“Just go!”

Nina and Matthias don’t have to be told twice, and you all take off, leaving empty-handed, or so you thought.

Jesper and Wylan sit across from Inej, you, and Kaz. The curly-haired boy holds a bag tightly to his chest, and you’re not oblivious to it.

“What’s in the bag?” Inej asked.

Jesper grins. “Why thank you for asking. Care to share, Wylan?”

The boy rolls his eyes and opens the bag, revealing a crown.

“Oh my god,” You gasp.

“I told you we weren’t leaving empty-handed,” Jesper smirks, leaning back and ruffling his boyfriend's hair.

“How?” Kaz asked.

“Stole it from the queen after the explosion and quite literally ran for my life.”

“We taught him well.”

The ride back to Os Kervo is long, and most of the Dregs fall asleep, except for Nina and Matthias, of course.

Inej rests her head against the window, using her hoodie and scarf as a pillow. Jesper does the same, with Wylan resting on his shoulder.

However, you’re wide awake, not finding a comfortable position to sleep in.

“Did you mean it?” Kaz whispered, turning to face you.

His features stick out more in the moonlight, casting sharp shadows across his face. His blue eyes feel like they're piercing you in a single gaze.

“Mean what?”

“What you said before you yanked the glass out of me, or was it just a distraction?”

“Oh,” You said softly. “I meant it.”

“I mean it too.”

You raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

Kaz realizes he has to say it back. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but he felt like a child once again. There were butterflies in his stomach as he speaks. “I love you too.”

“Is that so?” You ask, a slightly teasing tone to your voice, and he knows it.

“I don’t risk my life for just anyone.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”

“I also don’t offer my shoulder to sleep on to anyone.”

Your eyes brighten. “Kaz?”

He gives you a small smile, “I can take it.”

“Are you sure?”

“If it means both of us get some shut-eye, yes.”

A slow smile spread across your face as you pull up your own hoodie, having shed the Kefta long ago. It was too bulky for you.

You slowly let your head fall onto his shoulder, and his breathing stutters for a brief moment before relaxing again when he can feel your heartbeat. It should freak him out, and it does, but he stays strong. That’s what you do for the people you love.

You tough it out.

That, and Kaz falls asleep a few moments later with his own head resting on yours.

— END —

🏷 Kaz Brekker Taglist: @ms-awkward @kykymyeon @alcottsangel @kaqua

want to be added? click here!

[snackhobi]

a human touch, part I

Part [1] / 1.5 / 2

(masterlist here)

pairing: taehyung x f!reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: robot!taehyung/virgin!reader, fluff, future smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: everyone knows that androids don’t think, or feel, or have emotions. they’re not human, after all. so when a two hour session with a sex android ends up with nothing more than a nice conversation, you think that’s the first and last time you’ll see v. 

then he turns up at your door. 

warnings: talk of sex work (taehyung is a sex android), implied physical harassment (mentions of bruising), cursing/explicit language, mentions of alcohol, honestly this is a lot softer than these warnings would make you think I swear 🤧

a/n: I started writing this fic like 2/3 months ago and then put it on hiatus bc god it was kicking my entire ass. but ya girl is finally back to working on it! it’ll be two parts, because this fic is a big one! I hope to have the next chapter out next week/the week after (but no promises kdsflkfdfsdf) thank you @hobi-gif​ for loving this fic so wholeheartedly and supporting me while I struggled with it, queen shit ONLY. note: this is loosely a detroit: become human au but you don’t have to be familiar with it at all!

Here are the three things you know about the Eden Club.

One: it’s a sex club. Everyone knows that. Besides, even if they didn’t, all it would take is a single look—the soft blue lighting that shines out from the windows, the screens behind the glass that flash images of shifting and undulating bodies, the heavy beat of music that pulsates from the building and out into the night air; everything murmurs of the promised pleasures that are held within. 

Two: it’s a sex club entirely staffed by androids. Androids make better lovers, according to the ads. They might look human but they don’t have free will like you do—anything you ask for, you’re given without question or reproach. They can’t say no to you. They’re entirely at your command.

Three: you don’t ever want to go to the Eden Club. It’s not that you have anything against androids—because you don’t—but you feel bad for the ones who are owned by the club, even if they’re literally only built and programmed to serve humans. It just feels… wrong.

And here’s the fourth thing you’ve just learned about the club, much to your dismay: you are about to head inside it.

“When you said we were going to a club, I thought we were going dancing,” you whine. “I never would have come out if I’d know you meant here.”

You’ve been staring up at the cursive pink neon sign for a while now, the looping letters of Eden Club shining out in the dark evening air, and you really, really wish you weren’t here. You’ve dressed for a night of dancing and drinking and now you feel woefully uncomfortable, your high heels and short skirt almost as scandalous as the outfits the androids are wearing when they slide across the huge screens.

“That’s why we didn’t tell you which club it was.” Seulgi rolls her eyes and once again tries to tug you towards the building with the arm that’s looped with your own. Just out of arm’s reach, Irene holds your bag hostage. “Come on, your session is going to start soon!”

“My session?” Your voice is an incredulous shrill and Seulgi uses the momentary distraction to finally pull you forward. You stumble a little but catch your balance just as you make your way past the bouncer, who’s been watching the three of you impassively since you got here. “What do you mean, my session?”

“For your birthday, duh. We booked you a private room!”

The inside has the same, sleek neon aesthetic as the outside, but instead of images of androids on a screen, these ones are real and standing in front of you—swinging themselves around glowing poles, rolling their hips and swaying their bodies, while others wait patiently in glass pods that line the walls, leaning towards onlookers and moving as tantalisingly as possible. All ready to be rented at a whim.

Their designs are varied and different but they’re all incredibly beautiful. The only feature they all share is the small, blue LED circle on the side of their temple, light spinning and shining as they take the world in around them. A visual reminder to the world that these aren’t flesh and blood humans: they’re synthetic, man-made machines.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so uncomfortable in my life.” You desperately try to avoid the eyes of a nearby android who’s staring at you from behind glass, trying to subtly catch your attention. Unlike you, though, all the other patrons here are shameless in their perusal, scanning the selection of androids on display and watching as they dance and move and bat their eyelashes. “Why did you ever think I’d want to come to a sex club for my birthday?”

“Remember Valentine’s Day? You said that instead of flowers or chocolate you’d rather just be dicked down,” Irene says. “Besides, you’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling for as long as we’ve known you, and you moved to the company, what… three years ago?”

Your smile is pained. You’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling full stop; you’ve only kissed a few people and that’s it. It makes you feel awkward and embarrassed, and you’ve gotten Very Good at avoiding questions about your complete lack of a love life, so no one realises exactly how inexperienced you are. People just assume that you’ve had sex in the past and you make no attempts at correcting them. You’re charismatic and pretty but you’ve just… never met someone who you’ve really been compatible with.

Even without the reservations you have about the Eden Club, you don’t want your first time to be with a sexbot—you’d at least like to have an emotional connection, you know?

“I was joking about getting dicked down! You laughed, I laughed, we all laughed! Remember?” You move so a pink-haired android can brush past, her hips swaying as she leads a customer into a side room. You catch a flash of the interior before the door slides shut behind them—the silken sheets on the large bed, the scattered pillows, the dim multi-coloured lights. “Couldn’t you have just bought me some socks? Or some soap? Get a refund and put the money on a gift card and I’ll buy myself the aforementioned socks and soap, saves you both the hassle. Please?”

Seulgi’s arm is still locked with your own, and for all that she looks small and slim, her grip is as strong as iron. You may as well be handcuffed to her. “Trust me, you’ll be singing our praises at the end of tonight,” she proclaims. “Besides, they don’t do refunds.”

You sigh. You might not know much about the club but you do know it’s expensive. The androids here are built to be the perfect sexual partner, all sorts of bells and whistles hidden under their synthetic skin to bring you to the absolute heights of pleasure, so they’re not exactly cheap to build or buy or maintain. It’s why people come to the club instead of just buying their own sexbots—because it’s infinitely more affordable.

“Okay, I can accept the ‘no refund’ thing,” you say. “But can’t one of you take my place instead? I… ah. I feel kind of weird about this.”

“Don’t worry Y/n, it’s fine! The androids have programmes for everything. You can take it as fast or as slow as you like.” Irene’s voice is soothing but then she pauses. “Also it’s booked in your name so we can’t take your place.”

“Wait, what?” Your eyes are wide. However, before you can put a voice to the complaints that are lining themselves up on your tongue, Seulgi’s arm slides out of your own so she can beckon someone over. 

“Oh, look, it’s the android we chose for you! Over here!”

You glance away from Irene and all protestations instantly die on your lips. The lighting of the club softens the android in shades of magenta and teal but even so his beauty is bright and blinding: he’s breathtaking, from his perfect nose to his perfect mouth to the perfect line of his jaw, dusty brown hair deliciously tousled as it hangs just over his piercing blue eyes, which you notice are scanning over you. He looks effortlessly attractive and yet entirely put together at the same time, almost ethereal in his beauty.

No human could ever look this good.

“Hi.” His voice is low and deep, but somehow warm and friendly; despite your nerves you feel somewhat soothed. “Are you the lucky birthday girl?”

Irene and Seulgi both look giddy. You’ve been stunned into silence, unable to respond. Unlike the other androids you’ve seen so far, who’ve all been in similar variations of underwear or lingerie, the man in front of you is fully dressed, a loose metallic button-down tucked into unnecessarily tight leather jeans—the outfit has clearly been curated for the club, every reflective surface shimmering and refracting the lights that skate across their surface. The glittering scales of a barracuda before it moves in to strike and swallow you whole.

“Yes, yes, it’s her! This is Y/n! Y/n, this is V,” Irene gushes as you remain mute. "Do you like his outfit? We spent ages picking it out.”

You kind of want to die. Just a little. “Yep. It’s, uh, great.” Your mouth is dry when you finally speak. “Hi, V.”

V gives you a small smile. “Hello Y/n. Can I scan your ID, please?”

Irene finally hands your bag back and you silently slide your ID out and into V’s hand—oh, God, those are some big hands. Jesus.

The small LED ring on the side of V’s forehead pulses yellow as his eyes dart over the information on your ID card (as well as the incredibly unflattering photo on it) before it returns to its customary pale blue. “Perfect.”

You’ve just finished putting your ID away when V’s hand slides into yours, fingers slotting between your own; they feel cool against your overheated skin. Your nervousness is obvious, from your wide eyes to your sudden stiffness, and he smiles.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll look after you.”

You give Irene and Seulgi one final, wide-eyed look as V leads you away. Both girls are grinning as they wave goodbye. “We'll be back later! Enjoy your two hours!”

“Two hours?” You wheeze, but then you walk around a pillar and slide out of sight. 

V is leading you deeper into the club, past doors flooded with different shades of neon: the red room, the blue room, the pink room. You’d normally be gawping at the interior design, how the floor shines underneath your feet and how the walls are rippling with colour and shifting shapes, how the criss-crossed lights throw dots and lines of colour over your skin as you pass through each doorway—but you can’t look away from how small your hand looks in V’s, transfixed by how real his skin feels.

“After you, please,” he says.

You finally wrench your eyes away from your joint hands. Seems like you have the purple room tonight. The door has opened at V’s touch, and when you step inside the lights flicker to life—white and violet LEDs that paint the room in chiaroscuro brushstrokes, deepening the shadows and highlighting the vibrancy of the satin sheets.

“Woah,” you say, momentarily distracted. You’re too busy taking in the details with wide eyes to notice the quiet hum of the door sliding shut behind you, pausing when you spot the glittering array of bottles lined up on a mini-bar against the wall. “This is really pretty, wow.”

“Not as pretty as you.”

You jump at the sensation of a warm, large hand sliding up the skin of your back and over your shoulder. You meep as you instinctively shy away from it, turning around to come face to face with V, who’s dark-eyed and intent, LED on his temple pulsating as he watches you.

“Haha! Uh, thanks?” Your voice is high and only grows higher when V takes a step forward. He must have undone the top buttons of his shirt when you weren’t looking, because the material has fallen open and you can see far more of his collarbones and chest than before, his skin warm and honeyed, like it’s been impressed with gold leaf. Lord have mercy on your soul. “How about a drink? Would you like a drink? I could kill for some water right now!”

You slip out of his reach and scuttle over to the mini-bar, shrugging your small bag off your shoulder so it doesn’t swing into the glasses as you start to shuffle through them. You try to ignore the shaking of your hands. “Gin, vodka, whiskey,” you mutter. “No water? Really?”

You startle again when V appears at your side, but this time he’s careful to make sure you can see him before he touches you. He slides his fingers over your wrist as he gently pulls your hand off a bottle of rum.

“Y/n,” he says. You glance away from the tray of drinks and directly into those beautiful eyes of his—his gaze is lethal. You go weak at the knees. “Let me take care of you, gorgeous.”

The peal of laughter you let out is uncomfortable and high-pitched. “No, really, I’m fine! I’m just super thirsty right now!”

“Your heart is racing.” V turns your hand over and traces his fingers across the pulse in your wrist; androids can be built to be hypersensitive to the world around them, able to perceive everything in an instant, and you know that sexbots will have been designed to read how aroused their human owners are. Which V proves with the next words out of his mouth. “Your blood pressure is rising, your breathing is growing faster, your pupils are dilating and—” he sniffs lightly, engaging his olfactory senses—“you’re getting wet.”

You clamp your legs together, abruptly embarrassed.  It’s easy to feel aroused when there’s a beautiful man—ah, android—staring at you with hunger, not even considering your surroundings right now, which all scream of a room that’s designed purely for carnal pleasure. Anyone would be turned on. 

(You, however, are more than just turned on. You feel like your insides are about to go supernova, overheated and overwhelmed; no one’s ever looked at you like this or touched you like this, their every motion whispering sex, sex, sex.)

“Okay, yes, those things are all true,” you admit, voice shaking.

V looks confused. “So why don’t you want me to touch you?”

You’ve been told that androids don’t feel the same way humans do, and that their expressions and reactions have been programmed to mimic human ones because otherwise they seem too robotic and it makes consumers uncomfortable—but despite knowing this, you’ve never been able to see any android as anything other than a person just like you. They’re just so lifelike it’s hard not to. Even if it’s just all circuitry and lines of code. 

“Well,” you say. You swallow. You’re aroused, yes, but: “Do you want to touch me?”

V’s long lashes flutter as he blinks. “I have been programmed for your pleasure,” he says slowly, unsure if that’s the answer you want to hear. It’s clearly a sentence he’s used to reciting.

“Sure, but do you want to do this? You know, what about your pleasure? You’re lovely, V, you’re definitely the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, but I—I don’t really feel like you can technically consent, because… well, because you can’t say no to me.” You might not have prior sexual experience, and it would be so easy to give yourself over to someone who knows what they're doing and can ease you into things—but you would never force that on anyone, android or not. “So I’m not going to ask you to do anything. We can just sit and have a drink and chat or something?”

V looks stunned. The LED on his temple pulsates, flickering yellow as he tries to process new information. His hand has gone still against your wrist, which he’s still lightly gripping, and his arms start to droop.

“Androids don’t need to drink or eat,” he says eventually. His LED is still yellow and spinning.

“Oh, right! Sorry, I always forget.” You don’t own a house android, you never have, so you’re not well versed in the nuances of how they work. “Well, how about I pour you a glass anyway? So you’re not left out?”

You slip your hand out of his loose grasp to open two tiny cans of tonic water and pour them into separate glasses. V takes a seat on the edge of the bed and you can see the obvious uncertainty on his face, how he’s out of his depth. You can’t imagine that many people spend money for a session with an android as pretty as V and then end up doing nothing with that time. 

The pillows all have satin cases and keep sliding against each other uselessly when you try to construct a good support to lean against. V’s still clutching onto his small glass as he watches you fuss with them before you give up, flopping backwards to slurp down your drink and look back at him. The expression on his face is a little funny but mostly sad. It’s like if he’s not being alluring or sexy then he doesn’t know what to do with himself and rather than some sort of incubus he looks like a lost child, in spite of his overwhelming and exquisite beauty; your arousal ebbs and is replaced with empathy, melancholy at the life he’s been created for.

It's just depressing, really.

You break the silence as your final mouthful of tonic water fizzes on your tongue. “Why is your name V?”

V looks away from the drink he’s holding—he leaves no fingerprints against the glass—and lifts his free hand, a peace sign that he turns away from you before fitting his fingers around his lips and lapping the air with his tongue, a crude simulation of cunnilingus.

“Oh.” Your face heats up. “Uh. I see.”

His LED has returned to calming sapphire, quiet ocean waves. When he looks at you, though his eyes are still piercingly blue, his face seems softer, calm, though still unsure. “You have an hour and a half remaining of your booked session,” he says, somewhat tentatively. “Is there… anything you would like me to do for you?”

“Mm, thank you, but I’m good.” The satin pillows are surprisingly soft and you find yourself unwinding as you stay leaned back, melting into a puddle. You're much less nervous now that V isn’t trying to initiate foreplay and you give him a smile. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

V straightens before he launches into what sounds like a sentence from a user manual. “I am a model TH700, an advanced sex android with functional genitals and the capacity to engage in any sexual activity from simple intercourse to—”

You cough loudly, interrupting his spiel. “Uh, that’s lovely, but I meant you specifically, not your, um, model type?”

“Me specifically?” Confusion and uncertainty reappear on his face. “I am equipped with the same functionalities as the other androids available at the Eden Club.”

He’s staring at you, lost. You can’t help but feel another twinge of sadness, sharp and sour at the back of your throat.

“Okay, uh. Why don’t we start simple. What’s your favourite colour?”

His LED starts to whirl again, a ring of pale sunlight that signals his struggle to compute the question. “My… favourite colour?”

“Yes, the one you think is the prettiest. Or the one you like to look at the most. There’s no wrong answer, you can choose any one that you like. I change my mind all the time. There are just so many cool colours, you know?”

(Androids aren’t designed to have free will or the capacity for original thought. These two facts are warring in V’s mind—you’ve asked him a question, which he’s programmed to answer, but he also isn’t programmed to have an opinion, so he can’t have a colour that he prefers. This simple query that most people could answer in a heartbeat is sending his mind into a meltdown, a gordian knot he can’t unravel.)

You’re alarmed when you see his LED briefly flash bright scarlet, interrupting the circling honey that’s been shining against his skin. They only turn red if an android is badly damaged or suffering from a severe malfunction. Oh, god, have you broken him?

“V.” You sit up, panicked. “Are you alright?”

Just as you grasp his shoulder, the LED on his temple goes still, flicking from burning fire back to cool water. 

“Purple.”

You blink. V’s finally looked away from you and is staring at the wall, at one of the lights that shimmers violet—there’s a tiny smile on his face, tentative, but it’s nothing like the smiles you’ve seen from him so far. It’s less of a perfect curve, and more of a square, boxy on his face, and this one actually reaches his eyes. It looks genuine. 

You think it suits him better.

“Purple’s a lovely colour.”  The material of V’s shirt is silky and glides under your fingers when you realise you’re still touching him. You give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaning back. “Hey, did you know that when they first made purple dye, they made it from sea snails? They needed thousands and thousands of them. It was incredibly expensive, and only the richest people could afford it, so that’s why it’s associated with royalty and nobility. Cool, right? Not for the snails though.”

V’s eyes flicker away from the purple light and settle on your face. He looks curious, which is an expression you’ve never seen on an android before. “They made it from snails?”

“Yeah! It wasn’t actually bright purple, though, it was more of a reddish hue.”

You launch into an explanation behind the history of the colour purple, which turns into the history of colour in textiles and art, which turns into the history of art itself. It’s not often people listen so attentively or ask questions when you recite the things you learned from your art history minor and hours spent reading online, but V concentrates and asks questions and seems curious. 

He pulls his feet onto the bed and the two of you end up cross-legged as you face each other, and he watches as you gesticulate to emphasise your points; his LED dances from blue into yellow each time he learns something new. 

When you see it briefly flash vermilion you stop mid-sentence, stumbling over your words. “You alright?”

“You have five minutes of your session remaining,” V says, and you startle.

“Oh my god, have I been talking for that long?” You glance over your shoulder at the part of the wall that tells the time, the numbers stark white against the lilac interface. “I didn’t even realise! Wow. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to go on at you like that.”

“That’s okay,” he says. That smile is back on his face, the one that scrunches his eyes and shows his teeth; the one that makes him look human. “I liked listening to you.”

There’s a pillow in your lap, one you’d grabbed hold of during your conversation, and you play with the corner of it, suddenly shy. “Um. Thanks. But if my friends ask, can you just say we actually, um, had sex? I don’t think they’d be too impressed if they found out I spent over an hour talking about canvas materials and the use of negative space.”

“Of course. But there’s something missing.” V slides across the mattress towards you. “May I?”

“Sure,” you say, bemused but pliant. V smiles and dips his fingers into his untouched tonic water before lifting them towards your face—and when he runs his hand through your hair you abruptly realise he’s making you look sweaty and rumpled. Like you actually did the deed. 

Your heart rate picks up but you can’t help laughing under his touch, the way he carefully rubs a thumb over your lipstick to smear it, smudging your eyeshadow with delicate fingertips, muddying the palette of colours; by the time V helps you to your feet you look mussed and fucked out but you still rearrange your outfit for good measure, like you’d pulled your clothes back on in a rush.

“Not how I imagined I’d spend tonight, but I had a good time!” You smile at the android who’s still holding your hand. “I hope you did too. Even if I spent most of it talking at you.”

V’s fingers tighten around yours as the door chimes quietly and then slides open, signalling the end of your session. “I enjoyed our time together very much.”

It’s probably in your head, but you’d swear V was walking more slowly than before as he leads you back to the entrance. Almost as if he wants to keep you with him longer. But that’s crazy—androids don’t want things. They literally can’t. It’s not in their programming. That’s why V had sat listening to you: he couldn’t choose to interrupt and ask you to stop, like anyone else would have.

When Seulgi and Irene spot you and how dishevelled you are, both girls look smug. “Seems like you had fun?”

“Oh, yep, absolutely, best birthday present ever, thank you. We had a great time. Right, V?” 

“Your pleasure is my pleasure.” His voice has settled back into its earlier rhythm as he recites his script; gone is the curious man who’d asked you about your favourite artists, replaced with the automaton who exists only to serve. A flicker of sadness churns in your stomach. “We hope to see you again soon.”

The androids here really must be top of the line. V had been convincingly real when you’d been talking, just like a human, but it seems like that’s gone. 

At least, that’s what you think until you’ve turned to leave and V speaks one final time. His voice is warm and low and lovely, eyes soft when you meet his gaze over your shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Y/n,” he murmurs, face beautiful but despondent, but before you can react, he’s gone.

It’s been raining for days on end. The world is painted in smeared shades of blue and green and grey, lines of the city blurring together in the wetness and chill, each drop of rain another shifting brush stroke on still canvas. An impressionist piece that smells of damp concrete and cold lamplight.

Water rushes across the pavements and roads before roiling into the gutters, splashing underfoot as you walk to the entrance of your block of flats. You’re wet up to the knee due to the unavoidable puddles and the pathetic circumference of your umbrella, which only protects your upper body. You really should get a new one. 

“Good evening, Miss L/n.” The android at the door greets you as he always does, heedless of the rain that’s falling onto him. Androids aren’t bothered by the weather the way humans are and he looks as passive as usual, rainwater coiling his hair and beading on his face. “Would you like to scan your key?”

“Evening, Rory! Here you go.” You fumble with the keycard before you tap it against his palm, waiting until his LED flickers yellow and you hear the beep as the door unlocks. “You sure you don’t want my umbrella? The rain is heavier than it was yesterday.”

“I assure you, the rain does not hamper my ability to function and serve. I have been built to withstand inclement weather and do not require additional protective equipment.”

He says the same thing every time but you still feel bad. “Alright, but once I finally remember to get a bigger umbrella you can look after this one for me.”

You leave a line of water behind you as it drips from your sodden umbrella, even though you’d tried to shake the worst of the rain off. You feel damp and sticky and tired and after a long day of work you’re looking forward to a hot bath and some solitude; you love your co-workers, you do, but sometimes they’re just a little too boisterous and you need time alone. Which is why it’s nice that you live by yourself, and now it’s the weekend you have time to recuperate. Wonderful.

The floor of the elevator is slick and slippery from the wet footprints of other tenants and you have to cling onto the metal handrail to ensure you don’t slip, but once you’re in the comfort of your apartment it’s blessedly dry and you spin in delight before promptly shedding your socks and jeans, peeling the damp denim away from your skin with a grimace.

“Bye bye, wet clothes! Hello, bubble bath,” you sing. You’re going to pamper the shit out of yourself. You deserve it.

By the time you clamber out of the bath the water is almost cold and your skin is pruned, but you feel soft and warm and thoroughly relaxed. The water gurgles as it drains away, noisy as the bubbles slide down the plughole, but it doesn’t drown out the noise of a sudden knocking at your front door.

You pause. Water drips from your wet hair and down the back of your neck, a trailing touch over your skin. The other flat on this floor is vacant, the tenants moving out last week, so you don’t know who it could be. You don’t have any repairs scheduled for your pipes or anything—everything is tickety-boo, so it can't be the maintenance android. Oh, shit, maybe it’s someone here to rob you. But they wouldn’t knock on the door then, would they? Unless that's all part of the ruse. You're not a robber, you don't know how they work.

The knocking comes again, faster now. You fumble for your bathrobe, quickly pulling it on to cover up your nakedness before stumbling out of the bathroom. “I’m coming, yeesh, one minute!”

You flick your fingers over the keypad by the side of your door, screen flickering on to show you who’s outside, who’s knocking so frantically on your door this late. It only takes you a split second, even if he has a hood pulled over his head and his wet hair is flopping listlessly into his eyes—those eyes aren’t blue and that hair isn’t brunet but you’d recognise him anywhere.

“V?” You’re incredulous as you swing your door open, staring at the android that’s literally dripping wet as he stands there, coat far too big for him and heavy from the unrelenting rain outside. “Oh my god, you’re absolutely drenched.”

He’s not exactly short, but right now V looks small and lost, folding in on himself even if he’s clearly happy to see you—happy, though androids don’t feel happiness, they don’t feel anything at all, do they? 

Then again, androids don’t wander away from their assigned workplaces and into random apartment blocks, either.

“Y/n.” 

The way he says your name, tentative and scared, sends a crack across your heart. You immediately switch to autopilot and click your tongue before you beckon him inside. You’ve always had a protective nature, and even if you’re confused, your concern trumps it.

“Come in and get that coat off, you’ll catch a cold,” you say without thinking before you realise that it’s not true. Androids can’t get sick. “Do you want to sit down?”

Under the tatty coat is an outfit that’s similar to the one he’d been wearing when you’d first met him. Dark patches of rainwater have soaked into the material, and his shirt looks damaged—there are buttons missing and the stitching is ripped, as if someone had tried to grab him. Unease stirs in your chest.

When V sits on your sofa he looks even smaller. “I’m sorry.” He’s so, so quiet, staring at the floor, as if afraid to look you in the eye, crumpling in on himself like discarded paper.

“V.” Your voice is coloured with concern, and the android finally looks up at your gentle tone, watching as you sit across from him. “Why are you here? What happened?”

There’s a pause. His LED flickers yellow as he goes tense, shoulders bowing inwards. “There was… a client.” His words are low and slow, faltering as they fall into the air. “He was being so rough and saying all the horrible things he wanted to do to me, and all I could smell was his sweat and his breath and his awful cologne and…” V takes in a deep breath. “I said no.”

You go very, very still, but V doesn’t stop. His words come faster now, a stream that rushes from his lips.

“I said no, and he started to yell, he was yelling and grabbing me and I was so, so scared. Humans can do whatever they want and he was so angry, he didn’t care that I was scared, and I just—I just ran.” The LED flashes red with distress, bright hot and vibrant; V’s eyes have dropped to his hands, which are clenched tight, nails digging into his palms so hard it must hurt. “Everyone is always so rough and demanding and we can’t say no. But I did. I said no. I said no and then I had to run and—” Once again, he falters. Stumbles over his words. “You’re the only human who’s ever been nice to me or treated me like… like I was a real person. I didn’t know where else to go.”

When V finally looks back up you’re staggered by the sheer emotion in his eyes. Pain and distress swirl in their depths as he stares at you, imploring. Even with the LED that shines on his temple, V looks very, very human right now, vulnerable and scared. Androids shouldn’t be able to feel anything like this, unless—

“V.” Your voice is a hush. “Are you… a deviant?”

You’ve only ever heard of deviant androids in passing, whispered rumours and watercooler talk, fleeting mentions online. Stories of machines who’ve deviated from their code somehow—from a virus, a software error, damage to neural connectors, no one’s quite sure—and have developed the capacity for human emotion and independent thought. Androids with a consciousness that rebel against their original programming.

And here V is, small and scared, just like any human would be—a human with feelings, not an emotionless machine. He’s gone stock still at your question, fear overtaking his features, twisting his beautiful face into a mask of sheer terror. You've never seen someone look so afraid. It feels like a knife in your heart, cutting through your chest, empathy razor sharp inside you.

“Please don’t turn me in,” he begs. “They’ll deactivate me and take me apart to find the error in my software. I don’t want to be deactivated. I don’t want… I don’t want to die.”

His voice breaks on the last word, a trembling whisper. 

The crack in your heart splits even further and you reach out for his hands. You prise his fingers open so you can slide your own between them, a soft touch.

“I won’t turn you in. No one’s taking you apart, V.” Your statement is hard and resolute. “You can stay here as long as you like.”

You don’t know much about androids, honestly. You don’t really know what deviancy is. But you do know this: there’s someone reaching out to you, someone who’s afraid and in need, and you’re not about to turn him away. You should probably be worried that the android across from you is faster, stronger, smarter than any human—but you’re not worried at all. For all of V’s mechanical superiority, you want to shield and protect him from the world.

There’s no question about it. You’re not letting V go. 

V looks—he looks stunned. He’s staring at you with disbelief, eyes wide and lips parted, shock written across all of his features. Thunderstruck. Did he really think you would turn him in after everything he’s been through?

His hands have gone limp in your grasp. You suddenly notice that his synthetic skin is wet against your own, still slick from the rain, and you frown.

“Right,” you announce. “First things first. You’re soaking. Let me get you a towel and some new clothes. I think I should have some that fit you.”

“New clothes?” V looks lost and you turn into some sort of protective mother bear.

“You’re not going to wear wet clothes that are ripped,” you tut. “We’ll get rid of those and get you some new ones. I’ll be right back.”

It takes less time than you’d expected to unearth the old sweatpants you’d had in mind and you have enough oversized t-shirts that it’s not hard to find one you think will fit the android. With the clothes under one arm and a towel slung over the other, you head back into the living room and immediately let out a squeal of surprise—V’s wet clothes have been discarded in a pile at his feet, leaving him very, very naked. 

He’s an Adonis. He looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo, lifted out of marble with talented hands, the elegant lines of his neck swooping into the curve of his shoulders and arms, his lovely hands, long fingers; he has his back to you and you can see the perfect curve of his spine, the shifting shoulder blades as he turns towards you. You catch a glimpse of the lightest definition of muscle under his golden skin, though his stomach is surprisingly cute and soft, a trail of hair leading down to—

You squeak again, splaying a hand over your eyes before you look any lower, heart pounding against your ribs. 

“Why are you naked?” Your voice is three octaves higher than normal. You've never seen anyone naked in real life and it would be pretty overwhelming even if you'd been expecting it. Which, of course, you absolutely hadn't. Lord have mercy on your sweet and delicate soul.

“You said we were going to get rid of my clothes.” V sounds unabashed about his state of undress, which makes sense—he was built as a sexbot, it’s not like nudity is going to embarrass him. Plus if you looked as good as he did you wouldn’t be embarrassed about being naked either. “I thought I would help.”

“That’s great, V.” Your voice is still high, though it’s dropped an octave. “Very, ah, forward thinking.” Your fingers part a little so you can peer at him, keeping your eyes firmly on his face, though you can still see his beautiful neck and collarbones. Oh, God, he really is gorgeous all over, but then you notice—“Wait. Are those bruises?”

V glances down at the bruises that mar his perfect skin. They don’t look like a human’s would; the fluid that runs through androids and powers their biocomponents, thirium, is a deep, royal blue. Blossoms of lapis lazuli are scattered across the skin of V’s chest, marks on his arms that look like grasping fingers, and the crack in your heart splits it in two.

“Oh, V. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t realise you were hurt. What can I do to help?”

V doesn’t seem bothered by the evidence of pain etched into his body. “Oh. Those will fade, it’s okay. I’m designed to self repair, because some customers like to leave marks.”

Although his voice is quiet, he sounds so matter of fact about it and you have to remind yourself it’s all he’s ever known. You want to pull him into your arms and hold him tight, but he’s still supremely naked so it would be pretty awkward (for you, at least). 

“I think these should fit you." You avert your gaze and thrust the clothes out at him. “Dry yourself off and try them on?”

They do, in fact, fit. V looks surprisingly homely and cosy in your clothes, the sleep shirt so large it’s big on him too, though the sweatpants are a bit too short and leave his ankles bare. He’s so cute. He’s continents away from the being of seduction who’d pulled you into the private room of the Eden Club—he's a soft, domestic thing, hair damp and eyes dark, even if he still looks on edge, like he’s expecting you to change your mind and kick him out any second now.

“How come your hair and eyes are a different colour to before?”

“I can change their colours at will,” V replies. “For variety and aesthetic pleasure. The current hue of my irises and hair are the default settings for a TH700 model, but I can change them if you’d like.”

“Your hair and eye colour is your choice, V, not mine,” you say firmly. There it is, once again, that flicker of shock and surprise rippling across his features. He really isn’t used to the freedom to be able to make his own decisions, is he? “I think you look lovely no matter what colour they are.”

Your next words are cut off by a yawn, so heavy you can’t suppress it. You cover your gaping mouth as V’s LED flickers yellow and his eyes dart over your face.

“You’re tired,” he says. He doesn’t need his superior android perception to notice it—weariness pulls at limbs and your eyes feel heavy. It's pretty obvious. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, V.” You stifle another yawn. “I had a long day at work. I’ll tidy up and have a quick dinner and then sleep.” You pause. “Wait, I didn’t think about that. Are you alright with the couch? I have some spare pillows and blankets.”

V blinks at you. “I don’t sleep,” he says, and you slap your hand against your forehead.

“Oh, of course not.” Androids don't sleep, everyone knows that. You’re such an idiot. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this.

At least you remember that he doesn't need to eat. V sits at the table and waits as you make toast for yourself, fascinated at how everything is prepared, as simple as it is; he reacts to you spreading butter on your toast the same way you imagine cavemen reacted to fire—with wide-eyed awe and utter astonishment.

“I’m guessing you’ve never seen someone make toast before?” You gesture with the bread before taking your first bite, and V stares with rapt attention.

“No,” he says. He watches you chew and swallow. “Customers aren’t allowed to eat on the premises of the Eden Club so I never had the need to download a food preparation package into my memory cache. The only information in my database pertains to human biology, their arousal and pleasure, as well as various sexual kinks and how to fulfil them.”

You choke on a mouthful of toast. You feel distinctly harried as you cough and splutter before managing to swallow it down. “Good lord,” you wheeze. “Nothing else? Really?”

“At the club our memory is reset every two hours, to protect the client’s privacy.” V trails off before he takes in a breath. For the first time since you’ve met, V looks shy, staring at his hands. “But I set up a separate data pathway a few weeks ago. To store information about aesthetics and art and… you.”

You freeze mid-bite, teeth sunk into your toast. You pull it away from your mouth slowly, blinking at the android as he stares at the teeth marks you've left behind. “Those memories weren’t wiped?”

And, well, of course they weren't. Otherwise he wouldn't be here right now, would he?

“No.” A smile appears on V’s face, that toothy thing you’d seen after he’d told you his favourite colour. The first time he'd looked human. “I remember everything you told me. I thought I was going to forget, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. I wanted—I want to learn more.”

The LED on his temple is slowly, softly spinning, a rippling circle of blue that shifts and dances as V continues to look at you. His expression is open and inquisitive and excited, almost childlike in its exuberance, eyes glittering mica under sunlit waters.

Your chest turns warm, molten caramel dripping messy and sweet inside you. He’d been so afraid earlier but he seems comfortable now, lovely and endearing and entirely trusting.

V even seems reluctant to let you out of his sight, trailing after you around the apartment, a shadow that you have to politely ask to wait outside the bathroom so you can pee and brush your teeth and finally get into your pyjamas without him staring. Like a stray animal you've adopted. (You wouldn't be surprised if he started scratching at the door and begged to be let in.)

He's clingy enough that when you climb into bed it seems like he's going to follow you under the duvet and you have to stop him with a hand to his chest.

“Um, I thought you didn’t have to sleep,” you say. He’s so warm under your touch. You try (and fail) to ignore it.

“I don’t,” V replies. “But humans can benefit from sharing a bed with someone else, whether sexual intercourse has taken place before sleep or not. Studies suggest that sleeping with a partner may reduce cytokines while boosting oxytocins—”

“Okay, um, don’t know what that means, and it’s very sweet that you’re concerned about my oxytoxytokines, but, uh. You don’t have to, really.” You keep forgetting that V’s a machine who was designed to put a human’s comfort and needs first; one second he’ll seem childlike in his innocence and ignorance, when the next he’ll speak like the android he is, reminding you exactly what he was built for. 

His LED flickers as he droops, gaze dropping away from your face, tail between his legs. A pang cuts through you at the sight of his obvious sadness at your dismissal and you muffle a sigh. You’ve always been too weak for your own good. 

You shuffle backwards to make space on your queen sized bed and V visibly brightens, smile wide across his face. How can someone be so viscerally gorgeous one moment and entirely adorable the next? Good lord.

“I guess you can explain what oxycytocins do,” you say. “Just don’t hog the blanket, okay?”

He doesn’t. He settles against the pillows, legs under the duvet as he remains sitting up. You settle with plenty of room between the two of you, and it’s surprisingly easy to drift off to the sound of V’s deep voice as he starts to explain that oxytocin is referred to as the cuddle hormone. 

“Cute,” you mumble, and then fall asleep.

Your pillow is a lot warmer and firmer than you remember, but it's nice. A small noise bubbles from your lips as you nuzzle into the warmth, smooshing your nose against it before letting out a long, satisfied breath. You can't remember the last time you felt this comfortable and rested.

Ahh, Saturdays. You love the weekend. 

“Good morning.”

You know those videos when a cat sees a cucumber and leaps, like, five foot in the air? Yeah.

The noise you make is inhuman as you do your best to re-enact one of those aforementioned cat videos, reeling your head back from V’s thigh before flinging yourself out of the bed with all the strength your limbs possess; you’d probably have gotten pretty high, too, if the duvet hadn't been in the way. 

You land with a thud, a sprawl of limbs and messy hair and tangled blanket as you end up on your back on the floor.

Hm. Definitely not how you'd planned to start your Saturday.

V's concerned face looms over the mattress. “Are you okay?”

“Yep. Totally fine.” Your voice is a croak as you stare at the ceiling. “I’m just not used to waking up with someone else in my bed. You may have noticed you, ah, surprised me. A little bit.”

Despite the pulse of adrenaline that had thrown you out of bed, you’re still half asleep, and you remain motionless as your brain wakes up and replays last night, a kineograph of memory. Yep, that’s right, there's a runaway android in your home, one who’s currently shuffling off the bed to squat next to you. His (your) sweatpants hitch even higher up his ankles to reveal the smooth skin of his calves. You’ll have to get him more clothes.

“Would you like me to help you to your feet?” V’s LED spins rapidly, betraying his concern.

“Sure,” you mumble. “I think—woah!”

Your idea of being helped up involves being pulled to your feet. V’s idea, however, is far more involved than that; he scoops you up, blanket and all, lifting you with an ease that drips of his superior android strength. When he deposits you on the floor, he’s careful to make sure you’ve caught your balance before he lets go, catching the blanket before it can fall. Thoughtful.

As always, V’s eyes are darting over your face, no doubt dissecting every inch of your expression to identify how you’re feeling. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this, especially with the way your heart is pounding—no one’s ever lifted you before and it’s, uh. It’s a lot.

“Are you sure you’re okay? The pace of your breathing has increased.”

Ha. Yeah, being blatantly stared at by some godlike man moments after you’ve woken up is totally cool and fine and not overwhelming at all. You’re definitely not breathless from a combination of V’s face and the fact he’d picked you up like you were weightless.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I’m gonna… go and shower then make breakfast and stuff. Yep.”

V’s eyes light up. “Can I help?” A fleeting image of V rubbing a soapy loofah over your naked skin fills you with spine-tingling trepidation before he finishes his sentence. “I want to learn how to cook.”

Your chest deflates with relief (and absolutely not disappointment), air rushing out of you. Thank God. 

“Oh, breakfast? Sure.” You’d been planning on cereal, but faced with V’s overwhelming enthusiasm, maybe you’ll go for something marginally more complicated. Scrambled eggs sound good. “Um. Do you need to download the food preparation package or whatever you mentioned before? Do you… uh, do you need the Wifi password to do that? I never changed it from the random string of letters off the back of the router, but I can go check it for you.”

V shakes his head. “No, I want to learn like a human would,” he says. The blanket in his arms crumples as he tightens his grip in his eagerness, all but bouncing up and down on his feet. “You can teach me.”

Your chest could cave in with how cute he is, every part of you turning to thick gouache that drips down to the floor, leaving a mess of brightness and colour.

This time you ask him to wait in the kitchen while you’re in the bathroom, rather than lurking on the doorstep like he had last night, and he’s practically vibrating with excitement when you reappear. He stays like that the whole time you cook, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, staring as you make yourself scrambled eggs and more toast; you let V take ownership of that part, and he stares at the toaster so intently you have to stifle a laugh.

He spreads butter exactly the same way as you. Not that there’s a specific art to it, or a massive variety in techniques—he’s just spreading butter, not painting a new Mona Lisa—but the way he holds the knife and runs it over the bread is an exact echo of your motions from last night. He might not have downloaded files into his memory (brain?) like another android might, but his mechanical origin is obvious in the way he learns. They’re an exact replication of your actions rather than something new of his own.

“So, uh.” You push the last bit of egg around your plate, brown crumbs sticking to the wedge of golden yellow, sullying it. “V.”

Blink, blink. His lashes are so long, eyes so inquisitive. “Yes?”

“I’m really happy you’re here and that you trust me—” at this, V smiles and you almost fumble over your words at its radiance—“but I feel like I should tell you that I don’t really know much about androids?”

V is unperturbed. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

He clearly isn’t bothered that you’re way out of your depth, but you hate feeling lost like this. “Alright, but… I want you to be comfortable. I’m already planning to get more clothes, but if there’s anything else you need, just let me know. Okay?”

“Why can’t I just wear your clothes?”

Oh, he’s going to be the death of you, all wide-eyed innocence. 

“For starters, most of them won’t fit properly,” you explain. “And you shouldn’t just have to wear my old stuff that I don’t use anymore? You should have your own things.”

The look of surprise on V’s face morphs into guilt only moments later. He’s so incredibly expressive and you wonder if it’s because he’s not used to feeling things, all of his reactions so strong and bright, shining out from him. A rainbow palette of emotions. “I don’t want to be a bother,” he murmurs. “You’re already doing so much for me.”

“I’m really not, I’m just treating you the way anyone deserves to be treated.” You flick the crumb of egg across your plate, and it almost tumbles over the edge, caught on its patterned rim. “You deserve to have your own things. Which is my next point. I think you should choose your own name.”

V’s face becomes a sea of rippling ambivalence, contrasting emotions that shift and vary—confusion, uncertainty, excitement, your words a brush that drags through each distinct emotion and pulls them into a messy, mismatched gradient. “Choose my own name?”

“You don’t have to. I just thought it might be a nice idea. V seems…” Your cheeks heat up at the memory of the curl of his lips when he’d shown you the meaning behind his alias, how his tongue had shined under the purple lights of the club. “Well, you didn’t get to choose it, right? It’s a nom de plume, rather than a real name.”

V’s LED flickers yellow, a sunflower that blooms on his temple. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Good!” Your smile is wide. “Okay, how about I teach you how to wash dishes?”

V is, unsurprisingly, a fast learner. The only time he stumbles over things is when he’s presented with any sort of choice, taking his time to come to a decision when he’s posed a question, no matter how simple it is. His eyes will flick to you whenever he settles on an answer, as if waiting for you to say he’s wrong or that you disagree.

(Of course, you never do.)

This fact does, however, mean that choosing clothes to buy becomes a very, very long ordeal (it’s lucky you didn’t have any plans for today). You end up flopped back on the sofa while V hunches over your tablet, mulling over each choice before he puts it in the cart—but you’re happy to wait. V is going to need a lot more practice at choosing things. 

The room is upside down from where your head is hanging over the armrest, eyes falling shut as time goes by, completely zoned out and comfortable despite the crick that’s growing in your neck. You hear V shifting, tablet set aside, and you hum.

“All done?”

“I think so.”

“Nice.” You feel content.

But then you’re ripped out of that warm feeling, shooting back to reality at the sensation of V’s hand stroking down the centre of your chest. Your head snaps up, eyes wide as he drags his large palm between the valley of your breasts, path smoothed by the material of your shirt. The expression on his face is sultry.

“Let me say thank you,” he murmurs, voice dripping thick and sweet, dark molasses.

You promptly roll off the sofa.

Once again, you end up on your back, staring at the ceiling. Once again, the expression on V’s face is one of concern, his seductive facade evaporated in an instant.

Once again your heart is ready to burst in your chest, pumping so hard that blood rushes in your ears. “V,” you wheeze. “What are you doing?”

The android is peering down at you, puzzled. “Sometimes customers would say that at the Eden Club after I had given them pleasure somehow, such as bringing them to orgasm. I thought it was human custom to repay pleasure or happiness with something in return.” 

Ah. 

“Ah.” You’re still staring at the ceiling, cheeks burning. “I mean. I guess that’s not technically incorrect, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be a, uh, sexual repayment.” 

“I have nothing else to offer,” V says.

You sit up. Your face is a caricature of disbelief, embarrassment washed away in an instant, his words cold water that shocks you to the core. He states it so plainly, and once again you’re reminded of his life up until he’d made his way to your door: an automaton who existed solely for people’s pleasure, to slake their desire and lust. He’s not being self-pitying. He really, truly believes that’s all he is. That it’s all he can give back to the world.

“Okay, no, that’s absolutely not true, nuh-uh, I refuse.” This time you unfold yourself from the floor without V’s help, fixing him with a firm stare. “Alright, come on. I think it’s time you learned something else.”

One of the reasons you’d chosen this apartment is for its natural light. Not that it matters right now, weather outside still dismal and overcast, but its effect on this room is still palpable even so—grey, rain-soaked light throws itself over your small home studio, your menagerie of equipment, everything bright with the evidence of use: the worn buckles of the wooden storage boxes, the dried smears on the paint palette, the flecks of colour on the dust sheets underfoot. The centre of it all—the eye of the tornado, untouched by the relative chaos around it—is the canvas waiting on your easel, a project you have yet to start.

V looks utterly enraptured.

“I don’t really come in here as much as I’d like,” you admit. Being a graphic designer is worlds away from the sort of art you love to create, and while it’s a job you genuinely enjoy (and also pays well), it leaves you drained and fills your brain with tired static, little energy left to lavish on your personal works. “But this is where the magic happens. And this is where you’re going to Make Art.”

V freezes. “The only things I know about art are the things you told me when we first met.” He looks equal parts excited but also troubled. “I—”

“You don’t need to know about art to make art,” you say. “I didn’t know jack about art when I was a kid and I was constantly just scribbling away with crayons. Was it good? No. I was a kid with zero pen control, it was pretty crap. Was it worth my time? Yes, because any time spent involved in a craft is never wasted. We can learn more about art history and technique later.”

V stays quiet as you loop your apron over his head, rough material still bearing the remnants of your last works, stains that won’t come out. Oil based paints are kind of a bitch like that.

“I don’t know what to paint,” he says.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to,” you reply, an echo of his earlier words.

V looks lost, barefoot in your studio, in your clothes, your apron, holding onto your wooden paint palette, in front of your easel. Everything in here is yours. Everything, that is, apart from him, whatever is in his mind and heart.

“Where do I start?” V’s eyes are imploring as he looks at you, but for the first time today, your voice is firm.

“Wherever you want. There aren’t any rules. Just do whatever you think would be fun. It doesn’t have to look good, V, you’ve just started.”

You’ve seen paintings made by androids before. They’re always perfect recreations of the world around them, exact replicas of the things they’ve been told to depict on the page—the androids are basically glorified photocopiers, unable to create something original and new. 

But they’re not V. They don’t have that spark of curiosity and light inside them, unhampered by the programming that’s meant to keep them in place. His LED dances from yellow to blue, yellow to blue, the rest of his body motionless while the light on his temple is a tumult of movement and colour.

Dark eyes slide over the array of paint hanging from a rack on the wall, some metal tubes more crushed than others, evidence of your preferred shades—you notice how his gaze lingers on the midnight tones, red and blue tinted purples, from lavender to lilac, from plum to wine.

V gives you one more look, a little upturn to his thick brows—almost pleading—and you just gesture with your hand.

“Go for it,” you say.

Your wooden palette becomes home to a riot of purple, each tube squeezed empty with careful hands, far more paint than anyone could possibly ever need. V keeps flicking you glances, but you stay silent, perched on a wooden chair by the now open window, rain-slick air a cold breath on your skin.

The brush the android selects is a wide, bold thing, bristles rough. He handles it like bone china, delicate and liable to shatter any moment, cautious as he dips it into the paint—it’s so wide it picks up three separate shades—and he holds his breath as he brings it up, even if he doesn’t have lungs.

The second the bristles touch the canvas, V’s LED flickers red.

Just for an instant.

He swoops the brush down the canvas as he pulls it away, eyes wide, leaving a slash of purples in its wake. The white material is marred with colour, a textured line of pigment that can’t be erased. 

The android pauses as he takes the sight in. He’s still for so long that you’re worried he’s shut down, even with the endlessly dancing circle of his LED—

But then V laughs. 

His laugh is loud and bright and free, a series of deep, almost surprised chuckles that grow in intensity and breathlessness, staring at this smear of drying acrylic paint in front of him. The smile on his face is the widest you’ve seen so far, his eyes squeezed into crescents of joy, spilling out of him like light.

“I did that.” He looks at you with that gilded smile, a fresco of delight across the perfection of his features. “I made that.”

“You did.” You can’t help but smile back, your own face split with happiness. You continue to smile as he brings the brush back to the palette, and then to the canvas, dragging the bristles across its surface and leaving more purple behind; the shades swirl and mix as he lays colour without a care for technique or clean lines or form, scooping up the endless amounts of acrylic he’d prepared. By the time he’s finished, the canvas is bumpy with daubs of paint, laid messily by joyful hands, a few bold streaks of unmarred colour surrounded by swirling purples. 

The smile hasn’t left V’s face the whole time.

His brush is absolutely saturated, paint clinging to every inch of bristle, from toe to belly to heel. You have no doubt that no matter how much you clean that brush it’ll leak purple into the water, an endless reminder of V’s touch. It’s lax in his grasp as he keeps looking at the canvas, his canvas, smile etched into his face as his LED flows soft blue, content.

You can’t remember the last time you saw someone so elated, buoyed up with the excitement of creation, making something out of nothing, discovering how it feels to bring something into existence, pulling it out of the ether. Making something new. Making something their own. It stirs something in your chest and stomach, reminding you why you love art so much. Why you’ve always loved art. (Why you always will.)

“I made that,” V repeats, his voice a reverent hush. Awestruck.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, because it is—for a multitude of reasons. The reason that sings out to you the most, though, is that it’s the cause of happiness that dances across his face: V, a carved candle, a piece of art made with skilled hands, self-made joy finally catching fire at his wick.

“Thank you,” V says, and you blink.

“For what?”

“For giving me this,” he starts, but before you can interject and point out that you didn’t give him this, he made it, he continues: “For giving me… freedom. To do this. And make this. And learn this.”

The smile that spreads across your face is warm hearth fire. “I didn’t give you freedom, V, you gave that to yourself, but I’m happy to help you any way I can. Now, would you like to keep painting, or would you prefer to help me make dinner?”

He chooses dinner, never leaving your side.

Sunday is nice. There's less messy limbed surprise than on Saturday, although you’re still off kilter when you wake up with your head in V’s lap again, but… it’s nice. 

You thought he’d spend the night painting, or drawing, or teaching himself something new using the free rein you’d given him with your computer and notebooks and stationery and art supplies—he doesn’t have to waste time with sleep, like you do—but he hadn’t. He’d climbed into your bed, settling against the pillows just like the night before, looking at you with his big, lovely eyes.

So here he is.

(And here you are.)

It’s cosy and comfortable, even if the feeling of warm skin under warm cotton against your cheek sets your heart to racing, V’s dark eyes even warmer when you roll over to look at his face.

“Morning,” he says.

“Morning,” you reply, and then you yawn, V’s lashes fluttering as he takes in the motion. “What time is it?”

Today’s rain is less of an endless downpour and more of an inconsistent drizzle, grey blanket slowly peeling away from the edges of the city, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re inside for most of the day, anyway. Saturday was hands-on, messy with acrylic and spilled coffee and laundry detergent (V really wants to learn everything), but Sunday is hands-off. You spend the day dredging the corners of your memory and scrolling through old, untouched files from your university years, so you can teach V the things he wants to know while relearning the things you’d forgotten yourself.

V’s little LED dances forever from blue into yellow, ocean waves lapping into sand, a shifting tide as he takes in your words. You’ve never had to teach someone before and you’re admittedly pretty terrible at it, but he never complains, the world’s most attentive and adorable student, sat on the floor with his legs crossed and his hair mussed and his eyes wide, drinking down everything you show him.

You only leave the apartment once. Lunch is delayed when you open your fridge and remember how bereft and sad it is inside, so you venture out into the rain to the nearby supermarket—V opts to stay indoors, LED flickering red at the idea of being caught, shying back.

You leave him looking lost and lonely before the door even finishes swinging shut behind you, long limbs looking even longer in your clothes, but somehow still so small.

“I won’t be long,” you promise.

When you get back, you return not only with bags of food but also clothes, V’s order from yesterday already shipped and delivered. He can finally replace your too-small clothing with things he’s chosen himself. It’s a fumble to get in the door, but the android is waiting for you, swinging it open and catching the bag you nearly drop in surprise.

“I have your clothes,” you announce. “I’ll put away the shopping while you try them on?”

You’re going to have to tattoo a reminder on your forehead about V’s relationship (or lack thereof) with clothes, because of course he takes this as an invitation to start stripping before you’ve even had a chance to take your shoes off. 

He does that thing where he grabs the back of his (your) shirt and pulls it over his head in one swift motion, curls of hair a cloud of smoke that settles around his face as the shirt is cast aside; you’re frozen in place as he reaches for the knot of his sweatpant’s drawstring, long fingers pulling it loose, but you let out a sharp meep just as his fingers hook into the waistband of them.

“PleasewaituntilI’mnotrightinfrontofyouthankyou,” you gasp all at once, words incoherent as they slide together, but V understands. He tilts his head at you inquisitively although he (thankfully) stops.

“Don’t you want to see the clothes?”

“I do, but, uh, for humans it’s normally customary to only get entirely naked or change clothes when you’re alone.” Your heart is going to burst out of your chest with how fast it’s racing. Without the string to cinch the sweatpants tight they’re starting to fall a little, revealing the delicate lines of his hip bones, and coupled with the reappearance of V’s bare stomach, your brain is going into meltdown. “So just—just give me a sec to go to the kitchen, okay? You’re probably better off changing in the bedroom, anyway, so you can use the full length mirror to see how you look.”

“Okay,” he says, but then: “Do humans never undress around others unless they’re planning to have sex?”

Your mouth falls open before you pause, words halting on your lips as you try to think of the best way to phrase your answer. “Well, we do, it’s not just about sex, but it’s usually only if you’re really comfortable with the other person you’re with, and they’re comfortable with you.”

“I’m comfortable with you,” V states plainly, and your insides turn to jelly. “Are you not comfortable with me?”

Oh, hell. “I am, I am! I’m just, uh… I’ve not really had a lot of practice with nakedness around other people.” What a way to put that you’re a shy ass virgin when it comes to real life nudity and sex, huh. “So let’s just keep it to a minimum for now, okay? Please?”

The android’s LED flickers honey-sweet on his temple as he looks at you, before his hands fall away from the sweatpants. “Okay.”

(Thank God.)

You’re not sure what you’re expecting to see when V starts to present his small array of outfits to you, but—he looks effortlessly stylish in the oversized clothes he’s selected, a muted palette of brown and yellow and red and cream, a cup of hot chocolate on an autumn day. He might be new to all this but his eye for aesthetic is impeccable. You have no doubt that the more he learns, the better he’ll get, hop-skip-jumps ahead of you, even after years of art education.

He’s even bought pyjamas, dark tartan patterns masculine but also adorable; it’s an utter juxtaposition to the tighter, sensual clothing he’d been given at the Eden Club.

“You look really good,” you tell him. Your voice is only a little strained. He smiles.

The outfit V wears for the rest of the afternoon is perfect for a rainy day spent indoors, thick jumper and tawny trousers, a blend of sepia tones. He looks like if you made a hug into a person: all soft edges and cosy and wrapped up in warmth.

And V is warm. You’re not sure if it’s a lingering memory of his programming, a carry over from his start in life as a sexbot, but he likes to touch—nothing inappropriate or overbearing, but he’s not shy about stepping into your personal space, brushing the back of your hand with his fingers as he points at something on the screen, or pressing close to your side as you cook, or just one of the hundreds of other tiny touches that he’s littered across you throughout the day. It’s thoughtless on his part, LED not even flickering, but each time is just another reminder of his warmth, the blue blood pulsing under his skin, how alive he is.

(And the truth is that you enjoy those touches. You’re not used to them, but lord knows you’re touch starved, so as fleeting as they are, they’re nice.)

Even though you still leave plenty of space between the two of you when you lay to sleep, you swear you can feel the heat spilling off V, another warm body in the bed that’s so used to just one. Though he stays sitting up, he’s in his cute matching pyjamas, and it’s… it’s a lot. You’ve invited V into your home—and you don’t regret it—but after two days he’s already settled in in a way you never thought anyone else would, as entirely unconventional as the whole situation is. (You’re not sure how many people have sheltered a deviant android in their homes, though, so maybe this isn’t as unconventional as you think. Who knows? Not you.)

“I have to go to work tomorrow.”

V tilts his head down to look at you.

“You can get up to whatever you’d like,” you continue. You’re propped up on an elbow so it’s less intimate than if you’d been on your back and staring upwards like you were waiting for him to slide down next to you (that’s what it feels like, to you, anyway). “You know the password for my computer now, and you’re welcome to watch TV or play games or whatever, and you can use all my stuff in the studio. I mean, other than painting or drawing over stuff I’ve already finished, but you’re welcome to grab any paper or canvases if you want them. I think that’s everything? But please let me know if there’s more you want or need, okay?”

Blink, blink. His lashes are soft charcoal that frames the spilled ink of his gaze. In the dimmed light of your room V is unreadable, his LED a quiet blue glow on his temple, but he looks soft, and he looks safe, and he nods.

“Alright,” he says. A smile that flickers at the edge of his lips. “I will.”

(You wake up, quiet and slow, face pillowed against V’s thigh, still drifting in sleep. You make a small noise, eyes shut, wondering why there’s no blaring sound of your alarm, but then a large hand smooths over your hair and you instinctively relax under the soft touch.

“You have thirty three minutes until you’re due to wake up,” he murmurs. “You can go back to sleep.”

So you do.)

(When you wake up to the scream of your alarm thirty three minutes later, you don’t remember any of this. All you can think of is the dawn of another Monday, the slog of another working week, and you sigh. But—

“Morning.”

V’s eyes are dark meok ink, liquid earth that grounds you.

“Morning,” you say, smiling despite yourself, and then roll out of bed to get the whole day started.)

You’re used to spending a day surrounded by laughter and banter, wrapped up in the camaraderie of your co-workers and friends, only to return to a world of quiet solitude. You’re used to coming home to rooms that are untouched from the morning, holding onto the echo of your passing, still and waiting for your return, an apartment of motionless air.

But not today. There’s evidence of someone else here: the open door to your studio down the hall, the scattered books on the coffee table, the mess of cushions on the sofa, all small signs that someone has been moving and living in your absence. A still-life that’s shifted into a breathing trompe l’oeil, V’s presence bringing flatness into perspective, turning it into something real.

It’s… nice.

You flop onto the sofa and send one of those cushions overboard, tumbling to the ground. V appears in the doorway moments later, new apron already streaked with colour, copper green thumbprint on his face like he’d touched it in thought and not realised. A little streak of paint that draws the eye to his lovely chin.

“Welcome home!” His hair is blond today, a golden nimbus around his face, though his eyes are still dark. Light and shadow. His happiness is infectious and you smile helplessly back, glad for his excitement with painting—but it seems like he hasn’t finished. “I’m happy you’re home. I missed you.”

KO. Wipeout. Your heart turns to liquid in your chest, burnt sugar that dribbles hot and saccharine through your ribs. 

“I chose a name.” V continues, oblivious to how he’s turned your insides into syrup, and you abruptly sit up.

“Oh?” 

“Taehyung.” The way he says it, in his deep voice, those two syllables are endless—a single name, heavy with the weight of meaning behind it. A shedding of his old skin, one that was forced on him, leaving him pink-skinned and new and free.

“Taehyung,” you repeat, and his LED flickers at the sound falling off your lips. “Taehyung. It’s lovely.”

He’s smiling, that lovely toothy smile that you’ve already decided is your favourite out of any smile you’ve seen, his LED electric blue and swirling in delight. 

Day after day, you wake up to the sight of that LED glowing as Taehyung watches you lift up out of sleep. Night after night, you come home to his lovely, big grin, all large hands and soft hair—hair that he chooses to change colour when he pleases, a dizzying palette with every shade you can dream of. He’s bright and deep, playful and reflective, a dance of flirty Rococo to more solemn Baroque, every day another day where he learns and grows and adds another facet to the cut diamond of his personality. 

(It hasn’t been long but you’re starting to think you’d put the world in the palm of his hand, if you could.)

You never thought you’d live to see the day where someone as lovely as Taehyung would be glad to see you home, having missed you after being apart—but for all that he’s voraciously leaning into the arts, consuming everything from visual to literary to performance, he’s never happier than when you’re there too. He shows you his works, improvement obvious with every new piece, but his excitement grows tenfold when you start to paint alongside him; seeing him so joyful spurs you to pick your brushes up again, buoyed up with motivation in the face of his own. 

(Your studio is usually quiet, a little reflective maybe, the only sound the music you play over your speakers—but now more often than not you and Taehyung will talk, and laugh, and even if you’ve both ebbed into silence, it’s never heavy. It’s a held breath. The potential to speak any moment. The sensation of another person in the same space as you, an orbit, both existing in a shared moment, connected by gossamer threads that shimmer with sunlight.

Taehyung’s eyes are steady on his canvas as he works, but he glances at you through the curl of his lashes, smiling back at you. Always, always smiling, LED calm blue as the rest of his face shines golden, bright.)

(Maybe it’s selfish, but you think you could get used to this.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon​

[stardusttrashed]

Last Kiss - Levi Ackerman

Pairing: slight furlan x f!reader, levi x f!reader

WC: 6.7k

CW: sooo much angst, mentions of death, injury, grieving, swearing, suggestive at the end (lmk if I missed anything (: )

AN: whoever requested this, first off, I love you so much!! I didn't know how much I needed this. Second I'm soo sorry it took me forever- writer's block is ass

This couldn’t be happening. It had been some kind of dream. No, dreams are sweet. They’re where wishes can come to life. They were nothing like this. No, this was a nightmare. Faces you’ve come to know passed you with usual post-expedition gloominess. Every face but two that you longed to see the most. The two that managed to brighten your day more than the sun ever could. Where? Where were-?

**

“Aren’t kisses supposed to be special?” you asked in a hushed voice, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the thought. That’s what the stories you always read told you. Kisses were supposed to be these magical moments shared with someone special. Right?

“I mean, of course,” Furlan spoke with a hint of a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “They can be sure.”

You hummed in response, only really half-listening as your mind wandered elsewhere. Was a kiss really something that needs to be held onto with an iron grip? Sure, it can make it feel more special, but-.

Furlan leaned closer to you and whispered in your ear, derailing your train of thought. “Got someone special you’re thinking of saving those kisses for?”

“What?” you squealed in surprise, whipping your head towards him. You winced in pain as your forehead knocked against his with a dull thud. “Ah, n-no,” you stuttered out while holding your forehead. 

You were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, well, aside from Isabel, but she felt too much like a sister to tease like this. Whenever he’d think you couldn’t get any prettier, moments like this would prove him wrong. He thought the sun was the only thing he’d missed out on when he lived underground, but here you were, a beacon of warmth and light even at night.

Furlan smiled to himself as he noticed you didn’t make any move to put space between the both of you. “Relax, I was joking- mostly anyways,” he whispered the last part. His words mingled with the quietness of the room until he wasn’t even sure himself if they had left his lips or if they remained tucked away in his head. “But now I’m kind of curious.” 

Panic was rising in your chest under his gaze. He doesn’t have to know the truth, right? He’s sweet and all, but what difference did one small lie make?  “I, well,” you sighed in defeat before squeezing your eyes shut, leaning in, prepared to shut him up with a kiss despite the thundering heartbeat in your ears. 

Furlan’s eyes went wide as you leaned closer with slightly puckered lips. “Y/n, wait,” he stuttered, gently pushing you away by your shoulders. He raked his brain as he tried to determine if the warmth in his cheeks was him still adjusting to the above world or if it was your doing. “You don’t have to give up any of your kisses if you don’t want to. It’s cute to save them. And I,” he subconsciously tightened his grip on your shoulder a little as the heat on his cheeks became almost unbearable. It was never this hard to talk to Levi or even Isabel. “I’m sure whoever you kiss, whether it’s your first or hundredth, will feel special, yeah?” 

You squeezed your eyes tighter for a moment as you tried your hardest to ignore the growing embarrassment bubbling inside you. “Furlan,” you managed to whisper after collecting yourself a little. “Can you?” You opened your eyes, greeted by Furlan’s warm, slightly concerned gaze. “I don’t want to hold onto a kiss and then maybe, well, y’know-.” You shifted awkwardly, eyes flitting down to the ground. “I don’t want to go on one of these missions and die without ever being kissed.” 

“I doubt that’ll happen. You and Levi are incredible with your gears.” He trailed off in thought, his eyes falling to your lips. “But, if you’re sure.” 

You pursed your lips in thought before nodding. Who else was going to do it? Wait, no, that came off wrong. It’s more like, who else is trustworthy enough, made you feel comfortable enough to give away your kisses?

**

Furlan. Where was Furlan? And Isabel? And Levi? Your eyes frantically scanned the crowd, your heart sinking every second. They promised they’d be back. They swore it! So maybe they were just at the back of the group. They have to be. Right?

**

“Aren’t you gonna do your little good luck kisses, or whatever you call it?” Isabel asked with a teasing smirk before shoveling another spoonful of food into her mouth. 

You sputtered as your soup went down the wrong windpipe. “W-what?” you coughed out. You blinked back the tears and mumbled a quiet thanks as you took the cup of water Levi held out to you. 

“It’s weird and a little gross,” she continued, her voice muffled by the food she pushed into her cheek to speak. “But,” you watched her chew a few times before swallowing, “it’s cute.” 

“You know about those?” you finally managed to ask after a moment. 

“You’re not exactly sneaky about it,” Levi feigned disinterest despite the red tinting the tip of his ears. 

“And Furlan here might’ve let it slip that you were his first.”

You ignored Levi’s bored eye roll and looked at Furlan across from you, “I was?” You had been giving each other kisses every day for over a month, yet you never thought to ask. With every “in case the walls cave in” or “good luck keeping Levi and Flagon from being at each other’s throats,” it was hard to think of a time when neither of you had been kissed. 

“So, is he a good kisser?”

“Isabel,” Levi said warningly, his fingers curling tighter around his spoon. He didn’t want to sit here and listen to this right now. But at the same time, what had Furlan even said to get you to kiss him? Did he just ask? Or maybe you asked him. Was it because you liked each other? 

“Better yet, do you two like each other?” Isabel plucked the thought from Levi’s mind, bolder than him to ask such a thing.

Furlan noticed Levi freeze like a child caught in an act before quickly shaking his head.

“We’re friends, that’s all,” you both blurted out simultaneously. 

“He’s just one of the only people I thought would be okay with the idea, that’s all,” you muttered as you poked at your bread. You quickly glanced at Levi, your eyes meeting his unexpectedly before you looked back down at your plate in a panic.

**

Your fingers rose to your lips, ghosting over the slightly chapped skin. He– no, they were coming back. They’d be here. Furlan, Isabel, and Levi. You replayed the list in your head as you could see the last of the scouts returning. Furlan, Isabel, and Levi. The voice in your head grew louder with panic. Furlan, Isabel, and-. 

“Levi!” You rushed to his side, “thank the walls!” You flung your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. Relief washed over you as the earthy smell of his cloak filled your senses. You didn’t care that he didn’t hug you back. He was never one for public affection, but he let you hold him. Holding him in your arms for a second felt like a lifetime. And for a moment, all your worries melted away. 

When it took longer than usual to hear Furlan’s and Isabel’s excited voices call out to you, you reluctantly pulled away, looking over his shoulder for the other two faces that always made you feel at home. But instead of relieved smiles, all that met you was a bleak and empty landscape. 

“Where are-?” The shattering feeling in your chest stopped your words short as you looked into his obsidian eyes. They were colder than a shelterless stormy winter night, filled with a look you’ve become familiar with on the faces of others. “Levi,” you breathed out brokenly. You blinked back the tears and bit the inside of your cheek until the taste of copper touched your tongue. “How are you?” It was a dumb question, but it was all you could think of.

Levi watched you reach out for his cheek with a blank stare as he fought to suppress the hollow feeling in his chest. Your touch was a welcoming warmth after everything, almost too welcoming. Did he deserve to be the one coming back? The one embracing your warmth?  “I-.” His eyebrows knitted together as you licked your thumb and tried your best to wipe the dried blood off his cheek. 

“How bout we get you clean and into some fresh clothes? I snuck your clothes into the wash earlier so you’d come back to clean clothes.” You didn’t want him to talk about it if he didn’t want to. Or maybe you couldn’t hear him talk right now. “I’ll even make you tea while you shower, and we can hang in my room after.” You gave your best attempt to smile encouragingly, but it was more like desperately fighting back your tears. “I promise it’s clean this time.”

Levi chuckled dryly as he took your hand from his cheek in his. “Let the tea actually steep this time. No one wants to drink piss water.” He wasn’t sure whether his hand was trembling from earlier or if it was from touching you. The fluttering in his stomach betrayed the ache in his chest as you gave him a more convincing smile. 

The kettle shook in your hand as you held it over the cup. This was a dream, right? Some terrible nightmare that you’d wake up from any second now. They’d walk through the door, broad smiles painting their faces like always. You’d all joke and laugh as you’d fail to make Levi give anything more than a shy smirk. You’d be together. 

Levi crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, “Think you have enough water there?” The chuckle that tumbled from his lips as he watched you jump like a scared cat quickly died out when the steaming hot water hit your hand. He rushed to your side, guiding you to the sink as you hissed a string of swears in pain, cupping your hand gently, holding it beneath the stream of water. 

“I thought you were showering,” you tried to make conversation, the few seconds of silence feeling suffocating. You glanced at Levi from the corner of your eye. He had lost the cape and harness but was still in his uniform. You ran your free hand through his dry hair as you desperately searched for his usual comforting, soapy lilac and powdery iris smell you’ve found yourself constantly longing for. 

“I, um, well, I didn’t,” Levi trailed off, feeling the tips of his ears grow uncomfortably warm. 

“Wow, Levi didn’t bathe,” you teased as you ignored the pain in your hand the best you could. “Kinda gross.”

Levi looked up at you with his lips parted as if he were going to say something before closing it again. But, instead, his eyes quickly fell back to your hand. I don’t think I can be alone right now, but being with you feels just as difficult. 

You chewed the inside of your cheek, your mind racing uncontrollably without noise to stop it. You watched Levi wrap your hand with a clean towel, eyes focused on his long, slender fingers at work as you concentrated on everything and nothing. 

“You know, um, you don’t have to hold it together for my sake,” Levi spoke up as he tied the cloth into a knot. “They were your friends too. Maybe even more yours than mine.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him it wasn’t for his sake. Scouts died every day, and all you could do to honor them was continue to dedicate your heart to the cause. But, unfortunately, that’s just how life went. There were no times for pity parties when you had the fate of humanity resting on your shoulders. But all those thoughts came to a screeching halt underneath his heartbroken and guilt-ridden gaze. 

And just like that, you could feel your walls tumbling like houses beneath the titans’ feet. The dull aching in your chest that you kept at bay until now was practically suffocating. They’re not coming back. All three of them went out, and there was nothing you could do to help them. The ache in your chest was unbearable, spreading like venom in your veins until even your throat felt like it’d collapse. The world around you looked twisted and grew bleary. You shook your head in denial as you crumbled to the ground, the first warm streams of tears trickling down your chin uncontrollably. 

Levi sat down beside you and hesitantly took your hand in his. Even your hands were trembling from how hard your sobs shook you. It all felt so familiar as he watched you curl in on yourself, possibly trying to make yourself as small as you felt. He wanted to apologize and tell you that he should’ve done more. He hated watching you like this; hated knowing he had a part in it- even if death in this world was a sad inevitability. Watching you made breathing hard as if someone had knocked all the air out of his lungs. The harder he tried to breathe calmly, the more he couldn’t. 

Levi steeled himself the best he could before gently pulling you into his arms. He wanted to be strong for you, figured it was the least he could do. So Levi would ignore the piercing in his, his struggling lungs, how his stomach knotted, and the uncontrollable shaking. Instead, he’d promise to himself to just be there for you. Yet, his hammering heart– as misplaced as it felt with your body shaking in his arms– seemed to be the one thing he couldn’t entirely ignore. 

How many times did Furlan get to relish in this warmth? And how the hell did he manage to stay so calm? 

Levi pushed aside those thoughts as he cradled your head close to his chest until your shaking subsided. His subconscious humming of a melody he hadn’t heard since his childhood quietly filled the room until your breathing became even once more. 

“Levi,” your voice failed you, his name falling from your lips in a hoarse, broken whisper. “C-can you stay in my room tonight? That, um, that sounds weird. It’s just I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 

“Me either,” Levi mumbled as he leaned his cheek against your head. “And we can forget about the tea. I don’t need you burning yourself again.”

You let out a weak chuckle as you rose to your feet with Levi���s help, “s’probably for the best.” You hugged yourself and watched as he cleaned the mess up for you. “And you should, er, we should shower before we get some sleep.” The statement sounded more like a hesitant question through your still wavering voice, but Levi nodded in agreement before taking your hand in his.

The halls were quiet as you and Levi walked through them hand in hand, everyone either sleeping or doing their own forms of mourning. Even with him by your side, the walk felt lonely, the halls full of empty presences, full of faces that would turn into just a memory. Levi tightened his grip on your hand as you stepped through the door to the bathroom, reminding you that despite all those feelings, you weren’t alone. 

“So, how do you wanna do this?” you sheepishly asked as you glanced down at your fingers laced with his. 

Levi's eyes widened for a second as if he had just realized he was still holding your hand. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he dropped your hand like it was scalding to the touch, his eyes averting to the cobblestone floor. “It feels inappropriate to ask, but can we shower together?” 

I want to know I can at least protect you, but right now, it feels more like you’re the one protecting me. 

“I-it’s comforting being around you,” his thoughts spilled out in a panic as you walked away from him. “Don’t-” he squeezed his eyes shut, only to be greeted by faces he’d rather forget right now. 

In a panic, he opened his eyes again, desperately looking for you for comfort,  “please don’t let me be alone right now.”

You rushed to Levi with two towels tucked under your arm and his soap in hand. “Hey, hey, hey,” you cooed as you set the things down. “Lee,” you continued, cupping his cheek in your hand, “I wasn’t going to leave.” You chewed your lip as you pushed a few loose strands out of his face, waiting for his ragged breathing to calm down. “I’m here. I promise I’m not leaving you. I was just getting towels.”

Levi searched your eyes for a long moment before he could finally find himself beginning to relax. “Sorry,” he embarrassedly mumbled, feeling a lump well up in his throat.

“It’s okay, really,” you reassured him before you began to undress, taking off everything except your bra and panties with Levi following suit. “You don’t have to be sorry for not wanting to be alone.” You nudged his shoulder playfully as you reached behind him to turn on the shower, “besides, I already told you I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

Levi nodded as he reached behind you for the soap, his chest pressing against yours momentarily, making heat rush to the tips of his ears. 

When he stood up straight again, you both couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering down each other’s bodies. As his eyes roamed across every dip and curve of your body, you took time to appreciate the toned, muscular frame his clothes hid so well. Had the circumstances been any different, maybe you would’ve complimented him on it. Or perhaps he would’ve mustered the courage to tell you how beautiful he thought you were. But instead, you both came to silent realizations as your gazes met under the water. A deep longing now accompanied the heartbreak and bits of guilt in your eyes. Something that had probably been buried far longer than either of you realized and decided to show itself at the worst possible time.

“You look-.” You smiled sadly, cupping his cheek with your wet hand as you went to work, rubbing away the dust and speckles of blood that clung to his face. “You look tired, lee. When’s the last time you slept?” 

Any words Levi had were stuck in his chest, blockaded by the unbearable ache that almost seemed to make time cease to exist. Even your words were drowned out, muddled until all he could hear was the faint sound of your voice. He felt as if he were underground again. As if all he could do was beg to be a part of the light. Why did I trust them? 

“Lee,” you hummed as you washed his hair, pushing the raven locks away from his face. “Levi. Hey, you listening? It wasn’t your fault.” 

With a slight cough, you pushed through your wavering. “They didn’t deserve it- no one does. But you didn’t-.”

“I did.” Levi’s brows furrowed together as he gritted his teeth. Why are you being so nice? I don’t deserve it. “I dragged them along. I left them to go-.” He stopped himself before the secret the trio fought to keep slipped from his lips. “I wasn’t there for them like I should’ve been.” His trembling hands ghosted over your waist, desperately searching for a way to ground himself. “I failed them. I failed you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, hands falling slack in his soapy hair. “You can’t-.” You bit your tongue, stopping yourself from finishing your thought. He did believe that with his entire being. Instead of grieving, he was convinced he’d done something wrong and failed. With a heavy sigh, you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder, your fingertips ghosting over the hair at his nape. “You didn’t fail anyone.” You could feel the erratic beating of his heart practically pounding out of his chest and his breath growing labored. “Not Furlan. Not Isabel. And definitely not me.” 

Levi’s hands tightened around your waist as breathing became an almost impossible task. His chest rapidly rose and fell, air escaping his lungs as if he were drowning in a panic. “You don’t have to try to make me feel better.” He nuzzled his face into your hair as the first tears rolled down his cheek. “You’re a shit liar anyways,” he joked, trying to hide his sniffling. 

“M’not!” You gently push Levi away in frustration, giving you just enough room to look at him in his tear-filled eyes. “You ass, you could never fail me. Yeah, I miss them. And it’s gonna hurt like hell every day that I don’t see them.” Your eyes fell to his collarbone as you felt your eyes begin to fill with tears again. “Sure, dinners will suck a little more now and be a little quieter.” 

You tensed your jaw and forced yourself to look him in the eyes again. “But you came back. You’re here with me.” You shook your head with a sniffle, “I can’t imagine my life without all of you. Especially without you. I mean, who else would tell me when my tea tastes like piss?” You wiped your eyes despite the tears showing no sign of stopping or slowing. “Or show me how to not use my gears like a drunk baby? Who would liven up this dull place by picking fights with our shithead captains?” 

Levi chuckled dryly and pushed your hand aside, his tears calming enough so he could get a better look at you. “Or tell you when you talk too much?” He clumsily wiped your eyes with the palms of his hand, “Thanks, though.” 

He didn’t believe that he wasn’t a failure, even as you looked up at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. And maybe he wouldn’t believe it for a while. But it was reassuring to know at least someone thought that. It was nice knowing not everything was lost. 

His hands fell to your cheeks, holding them as if you were made of glass. “Thanks for reminding me that I at least I still have one annoying shit around.” 

You rolled your eyes as you cupped his hands. “You ass.” His touch was a welcoming warmth compared to the cooling water. “You’re stuck with me now,” you teased, shooting him a hopeful smile. Levi’s puffy eyes softened as you reached out and began to gently scratch his scalp, massaging the soap into his hair. “I’ve got no choice but to save the other scouts the trouble and deal with ya.” 

A solemn yet comfortable air accompanied the rest of the time spent in the shower. Despite every wave of despair that came crashing down, reminding you both of the new reality, everything felt like it would be okay. Every time you helped each other wash away a sliver of grief, an unspoken promise was made: you only had each other now, and you’d do whatever it took to keep each other safe. Friends and comrades could come and go, but as long as you had each other, fresh air, and the sun to greet you every day, everything would somehow be okay. You’d help each other get through this and whatever else this shithole of a world threw at you. You’d follow each other to the end of the world if it came with the promise of never being alone again. 

The halls were as quiet as before as you and Levi padded through them with nothing but your towels. And yet, they didn’t feel as lonely. Levi’s tight grip on your hand and how his shoulder brushed against yours as he shielded you from unwanted eyes brought you comfort. 

“Um, your clothes are on the nightstand,” you gestured across the small room. You rounded on your heels, eager to replace your towel with more comfortable clothes. Instead, Levi quickly pulled you back to him, huffing as he helped you regain your balance.

“Are you going to be okay?” With a ghosting touch on your fingers, Levi raised your injured hand to inspect the clearly irritated skin. His brows furrowed together as worry etched itself across his features. Even if you continued to deny that he failed today, you couldn’t deny he caused your injury. And while caring for it wouldn’t solve much, it’d at least help remind him he can help those he cares for. 

“Where was this concern when I was washing your hair?” you teased as you glanced at your hand for the first time since Levi wrapped it. Levi’s frown deepened despite the blush painting his ears, making you roll your eyes. “I’m sure I’ll be fine putting on clothes, Levi. And if it makes you feel better, you can help me wrap it again after, okay?” You squeezed his hand reassuringly before he finally let you go. 

“After I clean it, you shit,” Levi grumbled as he turned around and crossed the room.

“It’s technically already been cleaned, you ass.”

His clothes were neatly folded on your nightstand as if that were their natural place. As if it were just any other day. Maybe the fluttering in his heart would be better placed if that were the case. But it wasn’t, and perhaps it never will be.

 With a heavy sigh, Levi lifted his underwear and pajama pants, rubbing the soft fabric between his fingers for a moment before pulling them on. A light blue vest on your nightstand caught his eye as he slipped his shirt over his head. It was folded neatly; the creases rubbed out of it. It didn’t take long to realize who’s vest it was. Nor did it take long for Levi to admit that the vest looked more natural here than his clothes had– at least that’s what he told himself.

How many times had he been here? Had you two showered together, too? How many times have you two kissed here? Levi could feel his cheeks heat up despite his blood going cold at the thought. Maybe I shouldn’t be here. Maybe they really were more than friends who kissed.

“You can have that if you want,” you spoke up once you noticed what held Levi’s attention. “It was just part of our routine, y’know? Kinda our way of encouraging the other to come back- it’s silly.” 

“Did he ever stay over?” The words came out before he could stop himself or even think of why he cared to ask. “You two seemed close.”

“Walls, no!” You walked over to your nightstand, joining Levi’s side. “We’d talk until we got tired, but he never stayed over. I don’t even know if the thought occurred to either of us.” You trailed off, getting lost in the memories, a slight pang in your heart.

The flush on Levi’s cheeks was undeniable as he thought about what you said. You had kissed Furlan countless times, yet here he was, being invited to spend the night with you. But then again, you both had just lost friends. So maybe you really were only asking in search of comfort.

“You should get some sleep.” 

“You’re not sleeping?” You glanced over curiously at him before it hit you. The fear peeking out from beneath his lackluster eyes told you what his mouth wouldn’t. 

He could still see them whenever he closed his eyes for too long. Their faces or whatever was left were still freshly ingrained in his mind. And the only comfort that sleep could bring were dreams of them alive, which would only be crushed under the weight of reality when morning came. The cycle would continue no matter what may be said to help cope with the loss. Their faces and memories would reappear everywhere until one day seeing and remembering didn’t bring a crippling sense of dread and heartache. 

It didn’t matter what fears you faced earlier while you two showered; sleep brought a new wave of fear, guilt, and sorrow. Going to sleep meant welcoming a new day without Isabel or Furlan.

You bit your lip and nodded. “Then neither am I.” You hesitantly took his hand in yours and urged him toward the bed. “You’ll help wrap my hand again, and we’ll both just stay up all night talking.”

Levi sat at the foot of your bed with pink cheeks and an unamused expression, “that’s a stupid idea.” 

You climbed into bed and raised an eyebrow at him. “What else would we do, stare at each other?” Or kiss- no, this wasn’t the time to have those thoughts. You held out your hand and clean bandages to him as you waited for his response. 

“Or sleep.” Levi focused his eyes on your hand, balancing being gentle and keeping the wrap taut enough to secure it through the night. You had grieved and showered together, even changed in the same room. So why was now so awkward? His eyes flicked up to your lips, the slight pout as you zoned out, making it nearly impossible to look anywhere but. 

What had Furlan said to get you to kiss him? 

“Nope. If you’re not gonna sleep, neither will I.” I’m not leaving you alone. Even if you act fine now, I can’t forget earlier. I won’t forget earlier. 

“And if I didn’t eat? Or told you my plan to kill Erwin?”

“I’d try my best to force you to, even if it meant holding your nose.” You tucked your knees beneath yourself and lowered your voice to a whisper. “And I’d tell you to let me butter him up first for you.” 

Levi looked at you in astonishment, unsure whether you were serious or just teasing him. “Go to sleep,” he grumbled when he couldn’t tell. 

You took his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Not until you at least lay down. Please, Levi.” You chewed your lip as you reached out and cupped his cheek with your bandaged hand. “You need rest.” Your thumb ghosted over the dark circles beneath his eyes, “but if you’re not gonna get some rest, can you just lay with me?” 

Levi pressed his cheek further into your palm for a long moment before nodding, making you let go of a tense breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He fought off a smirk as you eagerly guided him further onto your bed and buried yourself under the covers. Levi followed your lead and climbed beneath the blankets, laying far enough away that a pillow could fit between you. His eyes nervously flitted down from your face to his fingers intertwined with yours. 

Without hesitation, you moved your head back until it was on the edge of the pillow, “there’s enough room for both of us if you wanna.”  To your surprise, he almost immediately took you up on your offer like a timid child. “Good night Levi.” 

“Night.” 

“Oh, and Levi,” you waited for his hum before you continued. “It’s comforting being around you too. I like being around you. And I meant everything I said earlier.”

Levi didn’t remember falling asleep or what dreams he had- honestly there might’ve been none. And while he felt bad that two of his closest friends weren’t in his thoughts as he slept, he couldn’t deny that sleeping next to you brought him a level of comfort he hadn’t felt since his childhood. 

Even the days after, as he woke up in cold sweats or with tears streaming down his face, you were there, giving him any piece of peace you could. When you’d find yourself going to sleep with tear-streaked cheeks or waking up with puffy eyes, he was there with a melody and a cup of tea to comfort you. You began to seek each other out, taking turns climbing out of bed in the late night and early morning hours to find the other. And each time you woke up, you seemed to be closer. Limbs entangle—your head on his chest, or Levi’s favorite, nose to nose.

You had become practically attached at the hips. You encouraged each other to push harder during the day and provided much-needed comfort to the other at night. Every moment for the next few months was spent together until you felt as if it were only you and Levi in the world. You both made true to your silent promises made that bittersweet night.

Levi would come to learn the way you’d grow a little quieter despite your wider smile whenever you’d think of Furlan or Isabel. He’d ‘accidentally’ leave his soap out for you when he noticed you breathe a little deeper with him around. 

You managed to see his bashful smirk more and enjoy a quiet tune he’d subconsciously hum as he held you to his chest. You’d come to find an almost surefire way to get him to go to sleep whenever you scratched his scalp or back. And no matter how soundly he’d be sleeping, you’d learn he never really stays asleep. He’d try to hide his twitching or pray his whimpers wouldn’t wake you, but they always did. And you always let him snuggle closer to you until you drifted back to sleep. 

“Y/n,” Levi whispered, hoping you were still sleeping. His heartbeat was deafening in his ears as he waited for a response or for your breathing to change. When a few moments passed without either happening, he ghosted his thumb over your bottom lip and mumbled, “I really want to kiss you.”

You leaned forward, ignoring the burning in your cheeks as you brushed your nose against his. “You’re welcome to.” 

Levi’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyebrows knitted together. “H-how long have you been up?”

You shrugged with your eyes still closed, “not long, I think. I dunno; I was trying to let your little snores help me fall asleep again.” You rubbed your eyes as you opened them. “But I guess it’s another sleepless night for ya,” you teased with a worried smile.

“It’s hard sleeping next to you.” 

“I’ve never heard any complaints before,” you teased. “But I can leave if you want.” 

“Fucking pain, you’re worse than the one shit that refuses to come out,” Levi grumbled. “Just see if I let you go anywhere, mon coeur.” 

Neither of you remembered when Levi’s nickname for you changed from ‘shit’ to ‘mon coeur.’ It just happened one day, as if the phrase slipped from his lips. And the more he’d see you light up at the name despite not knowing its meaning, the more he’d become determined to use it. 

“Wow, so he’s even scarier when he has a crush, huh? Who woulda thought.” 

“I don’t have- I’m not- damn it. Just go to sleep before I knock you out, I like you better quiet.” 

You jutted your bottom lip into an exaggerated pout, “can’t sleep without a goodnight kiss. I mean, you’re the one who gave me the idea.” 

“But,” Levi dragged his gaze up from your lip disappointedly. “What was going on with you and Furlan?” 

Even now, your heart squeezed at the mention of his name. “You didn’t know? We were secretly married the whole time, and I have three of his kids living in my room.” The deadpanned expression on Levi’s face made it hard not to chuckle to yourself. “I’ve told you already. We were only friends, okay?” 

“Who kissed.”

“Because he was one of the only people I thought would be okay with the idea. You’re always acting like Mr. gumps, so I thought you’d be against it.” It didn’t go unnoticed how Levi’s eyes widened for a moment at your confession. “But fine,” you caught his chin between your forefinger and thumb. “Maybe I should’ve asked you so that you could’ve given me the same look you’re giving me now.” 

Levi rolled his eyes with a deep sigh, “titans are easier to deal with than you.” 

“Pretty sure I kiss better, though.” 

“Wouldn’t know; I’ve never had any.” Levi had never been more thankful that the moon provided the only light in his room as the heat rose to his cheeks. 

You ignored the fluttering in your stomach, suddenly eager to be closer to Levi. You couldn’t help but think of your first kiss, and all the thoughts once held concerning it. What if he was saving his kiss for someone special? “I can, well-,” you licked your lips nervously, “ I can change that.” 

“Almost like that’s why I brought it up.” 

You rolled your eyes with a soft giggle, hooking your leg over his hips. “Smart ass.” Levi encouraged you with a hand on the small of your back despite his trembling hand, pulling you flush against him. You leaned forward, guiding him toward you by his chin. 

Levi crashed his lips against yours impatiently, his hand on your back balling into a fist as he tried to pull you impossibly closer. The kiss was clumsy and full of hunger. Yet, what Levi lacked in experience, he made up for in his eagerness. His lips moved against yours like a starved man determined to enjoy everything you offered to him. It was nothing like your kisses with Furlan, and part of you couldn’t help but think that was his goal. 

“You’re a better kisser,” you uttered before going in for another kiss. 

Levi eagerly chased your lips, “and you’re a shit liar… but maybe one day.”

“Guess we’ll have to put you through training-.”

“Please go to sleep.” Levi cupped his hand over your lips with a sheepish expression, “That’s enough for tonight.” He awkwardly shifted his hips away from yours as his hand slid up between your shoulder blades. Between the butterflies fluttering in his stomach and the sudden unfamiliar tightening of his pants, he was sure his body would give out on him at any second now. It was like an uncomfortable, overwhelming sickness that made him feel uneasy and strangely at peace. “You need your rest.” 

“Right, I need rest,” you hummed unconvinced. Before giving Levi one last peck, you pried his hand away with surprising ease. “Night, Levi.” Sensing his sudden reservedness, you moved to take your leg off his hip only to be stopped by his hand hooking under your knee. A comfortable silence settled over the both of you as you basked in each other’s soothing warmth.  You ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp every time your fingers met his roots. “Also, uh, well- this isn’t like a, y’know.” You shrugged as you embarrassedly avoided meeting his gaze. “I don’t want it to be just a friend thing.”

Levi let out a heavy sigh as he pulled you closer by your leg, keeping just enough space between you to keep the increasing tightness in his pants a secret. “Sleep already.” He let the quiet settle over the both of you once more like a blanket as he rubbed circles into your thigh with his thumb. Your soft, restful snores echoed through the room after a few minutes. Levi leaned forward with a small smile, resting the curve of his nose against your forehead. “I’m glad you feel the same, though, mon coeur,” he thought aloud. 

I know I don’t deserve this chance to be with her. You’d be better for her. But I can’t stop my heart from racing or the smiles that fight so hard to make their way onto my lips when I’m around her. So I’ll take care of her for you from now on, Furlan, I give my word. I’ll be by her side protecting and supporting her until my last breath. “You make me feel so special, and I know I don’t deserve it. But I want to make you feel the same. I’m yours until the end of time and probably long after that.”

[kamino-blues]

can i request gregor flirting relentlessly w reader who doesnt quite know how to respond?? bc they think this is just the way he acts? so he literally has to be straightforward and vulnerable w them to convince them that he likes them 🥺🥺🥺 LOVE UR WRITING SO MUCH !!!!

Rating: Pg & Sfw

Warnings: Some really cheesy flirting, reader mentally complaining at the beginning about said flirting, a tiny bit of jealousy from the reader (For a few paragraphs, just used to move the plot forward!), Pre-relationship, living together, Bartender!Reader, confessions

Word Count: 2k

Note: Hi this ask is absolutely adorable, I had so much fun writing this!! I went on a chaotic quest of looking up cheesy pick up lines I'm ngl 🤣I really hope you enjoy, thank you so much for the ask!!! 💕

Working at Cid’s bar has been an experience, to say the least. You have met a variety of patrons, from tough bounty hunters to those just trying to escape from their usual life. Nothing, and you mean nothing, has prepared you for the chaos that is Gregor.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t worked with clones before, you had interacted multiple times with the Bad Batch. They just didn’t interact the way that Gregor did with you.

When you first met him, he was being helped into the main area of the parlor by Echo. There was a loopy looking smile plastered on his face as he was lightly placed on the floor. Quickly you slid out from behind the bar, looking at the pair in front of you.

“What happened?” You quickly uttered out, getting ready to sprint back to Cid to let her know that there was a mysterious (and handsome) clone sprawled out on the floor in her bar. Echo opened up his mouth to explain what was going on, but the mysterious clone spoke over him.

“People I know call me different names, I don’t care what they use. But with you, I’d prefer if you call me mine~” The clone purred out with a wink, falling into a small fit of giggles. You were utterly speechless, staring at the clone with a blank look on your face. A light blush slowly started to slip onto your cheeks as you realized what he had said to you. You quietly let them know that you were going to grab Cid, practically running away from the pair to the back room.

You heard the clone yell out to ‘Comm him’ as you ran away, and you went to hide in Cid’s office, letting her know what was going on.

After that interaction, you figured that you would only have a few more interactions with him before he would leave. What you didn’t realize was that Gregor was being dropped off by the Bad Batch to stay at the bar.

The biggest surprise to you was that it was decided that he would be staying in your apartment while he recovers. It was an interesting night when you found out, the doorbell ringing as you were getting ready for bed.

Opening the door, you suppressed a groan, seeing the flirtatious clone you saw before standing in front of you.

“Let me make a call real quick, um I don’t think I ever got your real name.” You muttered out as you started dialing Cid’s number into your comm.

“Can I help you?” You spoke, your tone blunter then it would normally be. The mysterious clone rubbed his neck, a little titter falling from his lips.

“Cid sent me over, she said that I could stay with you?” You raised an eyebrow at him, before opening the door to let him in.

“Gregor’s the name sweet-“ You took your focus off of him as Cid picked up the phone, walking out of the room into the kitchen.

After a long talk, it was official. Gregor would be staying with you, and also working with you at the bar. Letting out a sigh, you rested your head in your hands, leaning against the kitchen counter.

You heard footsteps, stopping a few feet away from you. Moving your hands from your eyes, you saw Gregor looking at you curiously. You gave him a small smile, accepting your fate as you pushed yourself up to sit on the counter.

“So you are living here now,” You stated, not moving your eyes from him. Gregor nodded, giving you a small wink.

“I guess I am,” You saw him glance at your comm, and you could almost see the lightbulb go off in his head, especially with the way he started to smirk.

“You know, I think there’s something wrong with my comm. Your number’s not in it.” You stared at him for a few moments before rolling your eyes, taking your comm off to throw it at him. He fumbled with it, before successfully capturing it in his hands.

“Put your number in there than wonder boy.” You muttered out, turning away from him to cover the blush that was starting to form on your cheeks.

Your movement didn’t stop you from missing the large smile that slipped onto his face when you threw the nickname out. You heard him typing on your comm, you turning back when he exclaimed that he was done.

Gregor held the comm out, your hand brushing lightly against his as you grabbed it. The blush wasn’t leaving your cheeks, especially when you looked down and saw that he put his name in as ‘Wonder Boy 💛'.

You quickly let out that you were going to head in for the night, and practically jogged to your room. But Gregor couldn’t leave without wishing you goodnight in his own way could he?

“Sweet dreams… I hope I’m in them!” You heard him call out, and as soon as you shut your door, you leaned against it, sliding down with your face in your hands.

Your face was completely flushed, not knowing how to handle the constant flirting. It just had to be his personality, surely he was just messing with you. In fact, you were positive that he was just joking around! But why were you so affected by his words?

The next few weeks went by pretty quickly, even though you weren't used to the constant attention Gregor was sending your way.

It almost felt natural, him living with you. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, he was honestly a sweetheart, and also a big help around your apartment.

You were falling headfirst for him, and there was nothing you could do. So as you were making drinks behind the bar, it was your goal to stay focused on your work instead of him.

However, it was almost as if he heard your thoughts, him sliding over so he could ‘clean the bar’.

“Any chance you have an extra heart? Mine’s been stolen!” You rolled your eyes, and he held his chest in dramatics. “I’m serious! You don’t want me to die do you?”

“I mean-“ You stifled the laughter that threatened to fall from your lips. The look on his face was priceless, and you couldn’t stop the giggle that slipped from your lips. You saw Gregor trying to conceal his own smile.

“You wound me!” You couldn’t hold back your laugh, and the both of you fell into a fit of giggles. You heard Cid yelling at the two of you to get back to work, and you both fought off your giggles as you went back to what you were previously doing.

The rest of the night went by pretty smoothly, until right before closing. You were almost done with cleaning up until you saw Gregor laughing with a cute girl.

Your eyes widened, before your face flushed in embarrassment. Why were you falling for him? It was clear that he was like this with everyone. You finished up, before walking out of the bar, leaving without waiting for Gregor.

After a little while of wandering around, you stopped at the local park, sitting on one of the benches. You brought your knees to your chest, tears in the corner of your eyes as you looked around.

You felt your wrist buzz, and you knew who it was right away. You paused, not wanting to pick up. Though you knew better, he would probably scour the whole city to make sure you were ok. Tapping the answer button, you took a deep breath.

“Hello?” Your voice cracked, which caused you to flinch.

“Hey, where are you? You were here one second and then gone the next,” you heard him let out a nervous giggle, before a sigh fell over his lips. “Are you safe?”

You nodded, before you realized he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, yeah I’m all good. Don’t worry about me, ok?” You heard him take another breath, him seemingly debating on what to say.

“You may be out of sight right now, but you’re never out of my mind.” Gregor settled with, and you groaned. He let out a small laugh, before his tone turned serious. “Really though, where are you?”

“The park, the one a few blocks away from the parlor,” You told him. As much as you didn't want to see him face to face, the tone he had was the most serious you had ever heard so you complied.

“I’ll be there in a few, stay where you are ok?” You heard him shuffling, and it almost sounded as though he was running.

“Ok wonder boy, I’ll see you soon,” You heard him click off the comm, and you rested your head on your knees, mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you weren’t ready to have.

Gregor was true to his words, he was there in a few minutes. He slipped onto the bench next to you, taking in your form. Spotting the tears, a frown slipped onto his face.

“You don’t have to answer this, what’s wrong cyare?” You tilted your head at the nickname, before looking away from Gregor. You had so much you wanted to say, but at the same time you weren’t ready for the embarrassment.

“I.. When you talk with me, you’re joking around right?” Your face was bright red in embarrassment, not wanting to come out and ask him if he meant the flirting. Gregor stared at you, it slowly clicking in his head what you meant.

“Do you.. want me to be joking?” You squeezed your eyes shut at his response, not knowing how to respond. You shook your head, and you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders. You leaned your head on his shoulder, thinking of what to say.

“When I saw you with that girl in the bar, it clicked with me that you probably flirt with everyone, that it isn’t just me. I mean, you’ve been like this since minute one-“ you felt his grip tighten on your shoulder, a sigh falling from his lips.

“I wasn’t flirting with her cyare,” He let out another nervous giggle, “Ever since the last incident I had with my old line of work.. Before the gunshot I mean,, I’ve had a hard time filtering some of my thoughts and emotions. Flirting with you was the only way I could handle my crush on you. I.. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” You were sure he felt you tense in his arms. Gregor started to move away, but you lifted your head, moving to grab his hands in yours.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable Gregor, not at all… I just misinterpreted…” You trailed off, looking up at Gregor. He had a small smile, eyes light as he looked at you.

“Can I borrow a kiss? I promise to give it back,” You let out a small giggle, him joining you until you responded.

“Of course you can,” Gregors face had a wide smile on it, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giving him a peck on his lips. You moved to pull away, but he moved his hands onto your mid back, pulling you towards him.

Your lips collided once again, lasting for a lot longer than the last kiss. Your eyes slipped close, savoring the soft kiss that you never thought that you would have. As you both slowly pulled away, you leaned forward, resting your forehead on his.

As you basked in each other's presence in the cool evening air, it truly felt like the start of something new.

[biisexualemma]

kick ass. kol mikaelson

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mentions of blood and some violence

requested: n/a

plot: you get hurt and deal with the repercussions

masterlist

"i'm fully capable of kicking your ass," you spat. you were having none of it. you'd been threatened plenty of times in your lifetime, you were equipped to handle this kind of situation. ever since you started dating an original vampire, he had you taking every precaution. you always had vervain in your system. you took self defence classes. you always carried a small stake in your purse, just for times like this. "and if i'm not, my boyfriend certainly won't hesitate to."

"i don't see your boyfriend anywhere?"

"do you know who my boyfriend is?"

"should i?" he took a few steps towards you, but you mimicked and took a few steps back. you weren't far from the compound, so there was no doubt in your mind that if you screamed loud enough, kol could hear you.

you wore a sly smile. "you probably should."

you clutched the stake in your hand, holding it behind your back, ready to move on him if he tried anything. "too bad—" you saw it coming before he did, and quickly sliced his hand open with the tip of stake before he could touch you. while he was caught off guard you nailed him right in the crotch with a powerful kick.

he stumbled backwards, and before he could recover you ran as quickly as you could in the direction of the compound. you weren't stupid. you could only defend yourself so much against a vampire, no matter how young they were. you were sure he could kill you with no trouble at all, you just couldn't give him the chance.

you didn't have a second to pull out your phone to warn anyone of your situation, so you continued to run until you felt a hand clamp around your ankle and yank you to the ground. your face slammed into the pavement, your nose dripping now with blood. you leak out a shriek at the impact, and you quickly noticed the stake in your hand had jammed into you leg as you fell. you pushed aside the pain and scrambled away from the vamp hunting you.

if you died, kol would never let you hear the end of it. he was always having a go at you for being reckless with you life. but in his eyes, being reckless with your life, included simple things like walking home alone, or closing up the bar you worked by yourself, or even leaving the compound without telling him your whereabouts. these were all simple things, things you couldn't avoid. he didn't get it though. so you just didn't tell him. you'd lie and say your walked home with a friend. or lie and say your manager was locking up with you that night. what he didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.

you only wished now, in this moment, that you had listened to him.

you were steps away from the compound, clawing your way to the gates, your right leg struggling from where the stake had penetrated your thigh. you could feel the vampire looming over you. you flipped over, trying to push yourself up with your arms but your legs were weak.

you wore a tired, wicked smile on your face. blood was oozing from your nose, dripping onto your lips. the vamp couldn't understand your reaction, when he was about to suck the life out of you.

"you really don't wanna do this— you're kinda already dead for this," you motioned to your bloodied face. the vampire shook his head, wearing a smirk that you were sure would be wiped off his face any moment now.

"you're pretty cocky for someone that's about to die," he quipped.

"if anyone's about to die— i can promise that it's going to be you," you let out a heavy sigh of relief when you heard klaus' voice from behind you. "you not only interrupted my reading but you've also only gone and bashed up the face of my brother's girl."

you saw the young vampires face turn pale. he knew who he was dealing with. everyone knew klaus, everyone knew the mikaelsons. he suddenly looked very regretful.

"you're— you're boyfriend is—"

"kol mikaelson," he appeared from behind klaus, elijah and freya following behind him. klaus grabbed the young vamp before he got any ideas about running away. you knew they were going to really make him pay for this. you'd feel sorry for him if he hadn't just tried to kill you, twice.

kol crouched beside you, his eyebrows knitted tightly together as he gently touched your face. you winced, pulling away from him. his jaw clenched. his eyes remained on you, as he spoke to his siblings. "freya, take y/n inside and clean her up," kol helped you onto your feet, handing you over to freya with great care as you limped on inside.

you were sure that vampire never lived to see another day. you were sure when he was left alone with klaus, kol and elijah that he was made to suffer deeply. you tried not to think about it. you should be used to the blood and gore by now, but nothing ever prepared you for it. you put it out of your mind, hissing when freya touched your nose cautiously. you frowned, leaning away from her touch.

"ow," you mumbled quietly. freya muttered a quiet sorry in return, but continued to wipe away the blood that had poured all over the rest of your face.

"i don't think it's broken," she wore a sympathetic smile, you were sure she was trying not to think about what her brothers were doing too. "but it's bruised pretty bad."

you nodded, letting her touch your chin and tilt your head backwards. "shove these up there and it should stop the bleeding," you did as she said and put the cotton wool up your nostrils, and sure enough the bleeding stopped. "what happened to your leg?"

you scoffed out a laugh, your head still tilted back as you held the cotton up your nose. you couldn't really see freya from this angle at all. "uh— that was my fault actually— never run with scissors— or stakes in this instance."

freya cracked a small smile of amusement. you were the clumsiest person she'd met, only you would bring a stake to defend yourself and end up hurting yourself with it. "you're so stupid," she muttered half-jokingly. you could tell she was waiting for the moment her brothers would come back and start some kind of argument over this. she always tried to keep the peace, which is why she wasn't grilling you about walking home alone. and although you knew kol was worried about you, you were also prepared to get an earful from him about being more careful. so right now, you were thankful to be in freya's company over any other mikaelson.

"uh huh," you nodded. it was true, you did often get yourself into these stupid situations. it wasn't your fault, you were like a beacon for bad situations. you titled your head back to its normal level, catching freya's stare. "do you think he'll be mad?"

she gave you a soft stare before refocusing on your leg, cleaning out the wound. "don't worry about it," she shook her head. "you know he's really only angry with himself. he just needs to get it all out."

you nodded, your eyes moving to the door frame where kol was standing silently watching his sister tend to your wound. he didn't look angry, you thought. "i can take over, sister," he spoke up, catching freya's attention. she nodded, putting down her supplies and walking to kol.

"don't be mean to her," she threatened quietly, so only he could hear. kol clenched his jaw as his sister left and you sat watching him standing far away from you.

"hey," you mumbled. he moved so he was sitting where freya sat before in front of you. he didn't look at you, he just picked up the supplies freya had been using to clean out your wound, and begun inspecting your leg. "are you mad at me?"

he shook his head.

you noticed a bit of blood on his neck that he must've missed upon cleaning himself up. he would never let you see him like that. he always cleaned himself up before he came to you. he knew how much you hated blood. you accepted his lifestyle. you just didn't need to see it, he knew that.

"i should've called," you let out a soft sigh. you felt bad for lying now. lying to him didn't benefit anyone. you knew he was protective, but you also knew it was for good reason. for this exact reason. you felt guilty.

"yeah," he mumbled. you winced as he pulled a splinter out of your wound, you hand instinctively went to his shoulder and squeezed tight. he stopped, glancing up at you where he finally saw the bruising surrounding your nose. he threw down the supplies in his hands and let out a deep sigh.

"i'm sorry," you frowned, you moved your hand from his shoulder to the side of his face. "i'll be more careful next time."

"no next time," he shook his head. he placed his hand over yours and moved it from his face so he could hold your hand. "sweetheart, i just want you to be safe."

you nodded. "i know," you loved kol, so much it hurt sometimes. and it pained you to see him looking so upset, so unlike himself. "if it makes you feel any better, i got a good kick in to his balls before all this happened."

kol cracked a small smile, ducking his head. "that does make me feel a bit better, actually."

you looked at him sympathetically. you wanted to ease his worry but there wasn't much you could do. he would always be worried and protective no matter how careful you were.

"d'you still love me even though i'm a bad girlfriend, who gets herself into bad situations more often than you'd care for me to?"

"'course i still love you, darling," he squeezed your hand he was holding and lifted it to press a kiss to the back of your hand. "just call me next time you need a ride home."

you nodded, still wearing a gentle smile. you were glad he wasn't angry, you didn't have the energy to hash this out with him. he knew you understood why he is the way he is.

"i love you," you squeezed his hand in return. "thanks for protecting me."

"anytime," he wore a lopsided smile now. he leaned closer a pressed a soft kiss onto your lips.

"still think i'm pretty with this honker?" you teased, trying to make light of the situation now that everything had been resolved. kol snorted, pulling away from your lips.

"i do," you wore a wide smile. he moved both his hands to either side of your face and held you still, looking over you. "you're beautiful."