#I mean it’s more if you count all the doodles
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deqdlyowl · 2 days ago
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I actually have some old doodles TPtR au related... This one portrays an event from the second chapter.
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I have a few more things, but they're kinda spoilers and I'm not really into spoiling... Though one of them is just a spoiler of one interesting detail I want to add (the event my sketch shows most likely won't appear in the fic), while the other one is a WHOLE AHH SPOILER of the shit happening in, maybe like 10+ chapter, I'm still not sure how big I want to make the fic, ahaha.
Also rambling and venting out my feelings under the cut because I forgot to take my meds yesterday. You don't have to read but I would be happy if you do.
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Every time I start something I like, it begins to feel like a small obligation after some time, no matter how I feel about the thing I create. I love my fic and I really want to finish it, because it's also a huge emotional boost for me when I understand that I passed my word count goal in the chapter and I finally can write down my 24/7 daydreaming about CotL (even if not all of them, I often think about selfship, sorry, ahaha),AND I have a nice feedback. BUT. My ability is to abandon things. I have many unfinished drawings, unfinished crafts, like, a crocheted Spycrab or a full-sized HHH tf2 weapon, even though I really want to finish it all, but since I took a really long break, I just abandoned it all. That's usually the reason why I don't make comics. (The only comic I've ever made is that one silly meme about bees). And a month ago I started writing TPtR.
I'm scared of this happening to my fic, that's why I force myself to write if I'm not doing so for more than two days. Somehow it boosts my motivation, but at the same time, the thought of having to force myself to do something, even if I love it, makes me anxious. Why am I not doing anything if I love it? Perhaps it's just my depression with AuDHD kicking in, and sometimes I forget to take my ADs (I don't have ADHD meds yet) that makes me suddenly apathetic about everything. And then anxiety. And then I get sad when I can't come up with words.
Today I was describing the thing I have no experience in. I made tonnes of research, watched many videos of how people do it, tried to find words, but it looks... Meh. And I'm sad. And when I'm sad about something I do, I abandon it. BUT I WON'T. I will force myself to not, because I still want to write! I try to reassure myself that it looks shitty because it's still a draft and written in my native language. However, if looking at my current word count, the chapter won't be short, and it makes me happy. I'm sad and happy. I'm confused about my feelings about what I do!! I can just abandon doing ANYTHING and be lazy for years as it happened in middle school! But I have to force myself. To do anything at all. I already bed rot when I'm not studying, and if I'm studying at home, I still do it in bed. I'm losing weight (I'm severely underweight), my dogs feel bad (they're almost 12), it's my final year in school so I also study hard for my finals, my dreams say weird things (I believe in dream-telling or whatever, and I kinda can decipher them) and it all devours me from inside. But I can't give myself a rest. Or. I'll. Abandon. The thing. I love!
I'm repeating, but my head repeats everything most of the time as well, it's either loud and messy (adhd) or quiet and agonizing (autism), my ADs make my body parts twitch, I don't think that I need my therapist anymore, because it feels like there's no different between me before and me after talking to her.
I love my friends though. Their cheerful reaction to my fic or sketch updates is something that also boosts my motivation of doing something. I love art because of the feeling of creating something, but after finishing, I get the desire to see someone's reaction to what I did.
That's all, I think. I mean, not all, but I don't want to repeat again and again, my memory is getting worse as well, I feel like I kin Shamura ahahahha. I want to take an MRI. What if I have a tumor.
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shiningstarr15 · 5 months ago
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I need to draw more of Doublestar Duo. I’ve only drawn them like five times and it may seem like a good amount but to me that is CRIMINALLY LOW !! 😭🌟🌟
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sysig · 3 months ago
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Dr. “Has to get a good grade in therapy” Doran (Patreon)
#Doodles#Okay so none of them feature but uhhhh#SCII#It's related I swear lol#Damned#Finally a tag that makes sense here lol#Wander Over Yonder#Wander#I still mean Dr. Doran haha how clumsy of me :)#More concept stuff for funsies because yaayyyy#Fun to work with by design haha - he just wants to help people! He really does feel like a good fit ♪ Lovely feeling haha#Pretty fun to draw even if his design is rather cartoony haha#Realistically he'd probably have red curls but it's fun to hold some of his cartoon design elements! Wander's fur is all round like that#Freckles could be considered on-model depending on your definition lol the little patterning in his fur could count....maybe lol#So it's a bit of a stretch that's fine! His facial hair is definitely accounted for! Good good#And keeping his hat and banjo as props hehe hey if Stein gets to be all stitchy then Wander can be a bit quirky it's fine!#There's an explanation! It makes sense so it's fine! Lol#That really is my favourite part honestly it's rearranging [character] until they're puzzle-piece shaped <3 There's the spooks to it!#And I love the spooks :) The therapists get the least amount of Pain and Suffering but they're excellent spookage set dressing#Wander's great for that because he Can get a little in his head about him feeling helpful > actually being helpful#Which I think is Perfect honestly <3 He's such a great fit I love him#I didn't see much of the other therapists - Wilson got the double feature! I do want to check out the others'#But from the descriptions there didn't seem to be anyone specializing in kids' mental health?? Which is weird to me! There's kids there!#I mean even if he didn't specialize in pediatric therapy he'd still decorate his office the same way lol he just leaned into it#It's cozy in here ♪ Inviting! He wants you to feel better so badly! Please feel better#Just a totally chill guy other than the He Needs To Do Well#Hehe
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sleepinglionhearts · 2 years ago
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here, have some of the things that have been in my sketchbooks for a while
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moeblob · 2 months ago
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The amanda doodle turned out SO COOL AND PRETTY, I love the tags and how much thought went into it !!! one of the best fanart entries for her on this site imo
Thank you??? This is so kind - I really appreciate it! I liked thinking it over and giving her little details I doubted anyone would really pay mind to so I kinda had to elaborate in the tags for my own sanity.
I really want to draw her again at some point because I think she is so pretty... so thank you for this encouragement!
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crescentfool · 5 months ago
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based on a true story (ft @shoujok and @seashellshades)
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hausofwoo · 3 months ago
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graphic | mark lee
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pairing: mark lee x afab reader
word count: 6.6K
summary: stuck in the monotony of your job at the mall, every day feels the same: opening the store, sitting behind the register, and counting the hours til close. you've even memorized the routines of the stores around you. but when a new guy starts at the comic book store across the way, you realize your predictable days may soon change.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, comic book store employee!mark, retail employee!reader, really cute and fluffy until it's not, public sex (public space but no one is there), unprotected piv (DONT DO THIS), mark throws u around like a lil play thing, oral (fem recieving), fingering, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!
author's note: this one took forever yall i know its been a while! been going thru some shit irl but things are settling and i was deadset on finishing this bc it's so cute :'-) thank u to T and @hausofmingi for being my beta readers ( ˘ ³˘)♡
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working at a mall can be really tiring, but it’s not so bad when you have a crush.
you’ve been working at a retail store at your local mall for a few months now. it’s boring, there’s too many people on the weekends, and you have the worst hours. you found yourself working open to close for far too many shifts. but at the end of the day, at least it keeps the bills paid.
on slow days during the week, you’re always sat at the register, scrolling through your phone or twiddling your thumbs, counting down the seconds til closing time. sometimes you would even stare off into space, watching people pass by all day long.
you went to work always knowing exactly how the day would go; set up shop, maybe help some customers, and do fucking nothing for 8 to 10 hours. maybe a wave to the employees at the stores surrounding you, but sadly, that was usually the most interesting part of your day. you became accustomed to the monotony though, watching the same employees open up their shops next to yours.
the store directly across from yours is a comic book store. you know the few people that worked there, usually just saying “good morning” and going on with your day. you swear, you have this store memorized, knowing when the employees take their breaks, who’s working, what they’re working on that day. you didn’t really mean to, but when all you have to do is daydream, you kinda picked up on the routine there.
so when you arrive in the morning for yet another brutal open-to-close shift, you expect to just roll up the security shutters and sit back at the register all day. but there’s something different today; or rather, someone different.
sitting at the register at the comic book store is a man you’ve never seen before. his hair is perfectly messy and his glasses framed his eyes, which are focused on reading a comic. he’s working all by himself, which is surprising to you since you’re certain he’s new. you catch yourself staring and try to brush it off. he’s a new guy, so what?
you try your best to go about your day as normal, but you can’t help stealing glances over at the man at the store across from you. he has a captivating energy, and it makes you want to know more about him. he seems charismatic, being friendly with customers and earning smiles, then resuming his doodling once they leave. you notice that when he looks really focused, he bites the corner of his lip gently.
you gotta stop staring, or he will definitely notice. you decide to actually work on something for once, organizing the stock and straightening the shelves. soon enough, closing time creeps up on you. you do all of your closing duties and grab your things from the back. you close the security shutters, looking behind you quickly to see that the man is doing the same. he notices your gaze, so you kindly wave at him. instead of a wave back, blush forms on his face with a shy smile. and with that, he walks away.
the interaction was unreadable. he seemed to be so extroverted with customers, having no issue having casual conversations with them. why is he getting all shy now?
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you started to pick up on the new routine at the comic book store. from what you could tell, the man worked similar hours to you, often opening and closing too. he rarely worked with anyone else, so the majority of the time you glanced over, he was reading comics, manga, or doodling in his notepad.
you never really got into comic books like that, and only dabbled with reading manga, but the growing interest in this man made you curious about learning more on what he was reading. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the selection? perhaps get some recommendations? you just finished a short shift today so now was the perfect opportunity.
after grabbing your things and saying goodbye to your coworker, you make your way over to the comic book store. you approach the man, who’s sitting at the register as usual, reading. you see his name tag on his chest; a cute red pin with a spider-man drawing next to his name, “mark.”
“hi,” you say, pulling his attention away from reading.
“oh, hi,” he says, placing his comic down. “sorry, i didn’t see you come in.”
“it’s okay,” you reply, looking around at the goodies at the register. “i was wondering if you have any recommendations for a beginner at reading comics?”
“oh for sure,” he says, eyes lighting up. “marvel has tons of great ones. you could start with an ironman one, or maybe captain america? i personally like spider-man, but i’m definitely biased.”
“i’ll try spider-man,” you say after a beat.
mark gives you a nod with a warm smile before leaving the register to grab your comic. he searches through the spider-man section until he finds the first issue. he returns to the register, ringing you up.
“i think you’ll like it, it’s really good,” mark says, handing your receipt to you.
“i’m definitely looking forward to see what all the hype is about,” you chuckle. the conversation pauses for moment, clearly indicating that the interaction is pretty much over with. but you don’t want the conversation to end there, so you find something to keep talking about. “you’re new here, aren’t you? like you just started working here?”
“yeah, sort of,” he says, sitting back in his seat at the register. “i used to work here a while ago and i just came back ‘cause they needed someone.”
“oh nice,” you reply. “welcome back i guess?”
“haha, i guess,” he smiles, rubbing his hand on his neck. “it’s chill here, but it gets kinda boring.”
“tell me about it,” you chuckle. “it’s so slow during the week. i usually have nothing to do.”
“yeah, i just read or draw to pass the time,” mark says, pointing at his notepad on the counter.
“you like to draw?” you ask, curious.
“yeah,” he places a hand on the notepad, grabbing it. you can tell he’s getting shy again. “it’s just doodles.”
“you’ll have to show me some of those ‘doodles’ sometime,” you say with a sweet smile. you check your phone for the time. it’s getting closer to dinnertime and you’re starved. “i guess i’ll get out of here.”
“okay,” he stands again. “well, let me know what you think of the comic.”
“i will,” you say, turning to leave, then flipping back to look at him. “mark, right?”
he nods, asking for your name as well. he beams at you. “it’s nice to meet you. see you tomorrow?”
“see you tomorrow,” you say with a wave, walking out.
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for the next week, you find yourself aching to talk to mark again. you read the comic he gave you, and it provided a little bit of insight into him… that he’s a bit of a nerd. definitely not a bad thing. it’s actually really endearing to you, knowing his life basically revolves around superheroes, free time and work alike. that he probably draws little comics in his notepad, and has sweet dreams about being superhuman. why is that so fucking cute?
you have a reason to talk to him again, of course: the next issue of spider-man. the problem is building up the courage again, which is ridiculous because he’s just a guy. a nerdy one at that, and you know that he would be putty in your hands if you really wanted him to be. but the longing you developed for him during those long hours of your shift, seeing him across the way, looking so cute in his round glasses… it’s making you nervous in a way that is difficult to explain.
you’ve been putting off going back to his store at this point. wouldn’t someone that wanted to get into superhero comics come back for the next edition? why aren’t you using your excuse to talk to him? not only that, but he even said he wanted you to come tell him what you thought of the comic. you’re just overthinking things.
you have another short shift one day, and decide today is the day. you gather your things and walk to the neighboring store, feeling the familiar butterflies you felt the first time you approached mark at the register. he’s drawing this time, crouched down and focused. he hears you walk in, lifting his head to meet your eyes. maybe you’re crazy, but it looks like his eyes light up.
“hey,” he says, closing the notepad in front of him. you present the spider-man comic to him, and he flashes a smile at you. “what’d you think?”
you chuckle, holding the comic close to your chest. “it was good, but too short. there’s another issue, right?” you joke, hoping it lands.
he lets out a giggle, “yeah, there definitely is. i’ll grab the next one for you.”
he walks over to a section near the front of the store, flipping through the excess of papers before he finds the 2nd issue. “if you liked that one, you’ll like this one even more.” he returns to the register with the issue, placing it on the counter for you.
“duel to the death with the vulture?” you read from the page. “i haven’t seen any of the movies recently so correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t remember there being a vulture.”
“oh yeah, he’s in one of the later movies actually,” mark starts. “but you got a long way to go til you finally meet one of the iconic villians like the green goblin, or even the love interests gwen stacy or mary jane. it’ll be so worth the wait though.”
“how much do i owe you?” you ask, already pulling out your wallet.
“you can borrow it if you want,” he says.
“but this one belongs to the store, won’t you get in trouble?” you ask.
“just bring it back and it’s like it never happened,” he whispers, faking a shhh at you. “let’s just say it’s mall employee perk.”
you smile and accept it.
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your new routine feels like a nice change of pace. every second of every day used to drag by, and yet at the same time, when you got home, everything that happened was so unbelievably boring that it all felt like a blur. nothing really significant happened to you. but something about trying something new, learning about a brand new niche interest, and even developing a crush… it’s finally something exciting.
you looked forward to the next time you got a new issue. not just that, but the next time you got to talk to mark. he has this charm about him that piqued your interest. it feels so easy to talk to him, as if you’ve already known each other for a long time and it isn’t just a budding friendship. you’d find yourself stopping by the comic book store a few times a week, anticipating the next comic and the underlying tension between you and mark.
like today, when you finally got off of work after a long shift. you were able to close up shop quickly and now you’re walking over to the comic book store, attempting to run in before mark locked up.
“hey, is it cool if i get the next issue real quick?” you ask, popping your head in the store.
“yeah, one sec,” he says, looking up from counting the cash in the register. “lemme just finish closing up the register.”
“are you implying that you’re gonna let me borrow another comic?” you ask, a flirty tone floating beneath.
“well of course,” he says, swiftly closing the cash drawer. “unless you want to start collecting, which by the way, SUPER expensive.”
“i think i’ll stick to being a casual reader for now,” you joke, approaching mark at the register.
“i don’t know, you might change your mind after this one,” he says, grabbing a comic from his bag. he holds it out to you, you grabbing it with your fingers briefly brushing past his. the motion makes you feel a little dizzy, and you can feel heat rising to your cheeks.
you shake your head, realizing this one doesn’t belong to the store. “wait, is this your own personal comic?”
“yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he says, half focusing as he’s writing something on a sticky note at the counter. “i brought it in so you can borrow it.” you can see the corner of his mouth turning up, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.
“you didn’t have to do that—”
“i wanted to,” he says, lifting his head up to hand you the sticky note he was writing on. “just treat it with care.”
you take the note, which is pale blue with a cartoon spider-man in the corner. in the middle of the note is a scrawled out phone number. you look up to see mark rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“if you want to tell me what you think?” he says, almost like a question.
“or maybe when i get bored during my shift?” you ask, chuckling.
“i’d like that a lot actually,” he smiles, his previous nervousness quickly washing away.
“you’ll regret it though,” you say, sticking the note on the front page of the comic. “because i get bored here a lot.”
“don’t worry,” mark laughs, shaking his head. “i don’t think i’ll get sick of you anytime soon.”
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you finally reached issue #14 of spider-man, the one mark is lending to you. you grab it out of your bag at the beginning of your shift, sitting back in your chair behind the register and getting comfortable. you realize what it’s about and immediately text mark.
sent 10:17 am omg wait i didn’t realize this issue is the first appearance of the green goblin
you look across the way, seeing mark pick up his phone and smiling.
sent 10:18 am mark: oh yeah, he’s fuckin sick mark: you’re gonna love it
you click your phone off with a soft sigh, flipping back to your comic. you go about your shift switching from helping customers and checking them out, and reading. every once and a while, you’ll message mark with your comments and he would always reply with enthusiasm.
the end of your shift approaches quickly, and soon enough you’re closing the security shutters. you look behind you to see mark locking the doors and then doing the same. he must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he turns and flashes his famous smile to you. you walk over to him with the comic in hand.
“you were right,” you say, handing it him. “green goblin is super sick.”
“i told you,” he says, reaching for it, and your hands momentarily touching like last time. he gets flustered. “uh, i can give you the next one tomorrow if you’re working.”
“i am, yeah,” you reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “i am so curious though—when the hell does gwen stacy show up?”
“oh,” he giggles to himself. “you’re like, halfway there to finally seeing her.”
“i didn’t realize how extensive this series is,” you chuckle. “not that i’m complaining. i’m actually surprised by how much i like it.”
“i’m glad,” he says sweetly. “well, just come by tomorrow and i’ll give you the next issue.”
“i will.”
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the following weeks, you became overtaken by superhero comics and stupid-fucking-adorable mark. you would read an issue of spider-man at work, and text mark with your reactions to certain scenes. at first you thought it might be annoying to him, but he actually seemed to encourage it, asking for your opinions on the characters and storyline.
it doesn’t help that every time you see mark, you get butterflies in your stomach. and it seemed to only be getting worse; you keep finding yourself smiling when his name pops up on your phone. you wake up excited to go to work, because you know you’ll probably have another interaction with him. sometimes, mark would even catch you staring at him and give a little nod with a smile. but what made things exponentially worse was when you catch him gazing at you too, catching you off guard but making a smile spread across your lips. you are smitten, and if anyone else was concerned, mark is probably smitten too. the issue is getting him to finally take the hint and making a real move on you.
he may get a little flustered around you, but he’s not exactly shy. after all, he did give you his number unprompted. but after weeks of going back and forth strictly talking about comics and work, you started to lose hope. you just want him. he must want you back just as bad.
after another closing shift, you watch the mall-goers pass by and file out of the building. the mall is basically empty now, most of the neighboring stores already closed and employees leaving for the day. you had to stay a little bit late, cleaning up a huge mess in the store from some rude customers. you thought you would have time to stop by to see mark, but with the amount of things you have to put away, your chances are looking slim.
you shuffle around the store, placing items back on the shelves and organizing the tables of merchandise. you eyes shift over to the comic book store, expecting to see it dark and locked up. but it isn’t; mark is still in there, half the lights still on, with him unboxing comics from their latest shipment. you already knew it was restock day for them (god you have way too much free time), but you didn’t realize how many boxes they got in.
you open the front door of your store, whisper-yelling through the security shutters. “mark!”
mark’s head turns to look at you and flashes a grin at you. “yo, you’re still here too?”
you nod, leaning on the glass door. you hold up a few of the displaced items in your hands. “go-backs,” you shrug.
he points at the pile of boxes in front of him, “restock. we got a lot of shit in early for christmas.”
“don’t say christmas please, i don’t want to think about it yet,” you say with a laugh.
you turn away to get back to work, putting all the merchandise back to their assigned spots. you don’t know what the hell got into people today; messing up all your organization you’ve done and putting things in all the wrong places. it didn’t help that you had to deal with some assholes with returns today too. you always theorize it’s from a full moon or mercury retrograde or something; those things must be the reason people start acting up.
after about an hour of cleaning, you finish up and can finally call it a day. you close up shop and turn to see mark still working on stocking at his store. you approach the security gate of the store, with its front door still propped open.
“i still need my next issue by the way,” you say to mark, who stands from his crouching position in front of an open box. he walks up to the gate and pushes it up, just enough for you to come through. you look hesitant.
“come in, it’s okay,” he says, motioning you in. you duck under the security gate, slipping into the store. “how was your day? looks like you had a lot to do.”
“yeah, the store was a mess,” you say, following him to the register. “i’ve never had to stay so late after close.”
“it’s only gonna get worse the closer it gets to christmas,” mark says while weaving around the boxes with you.
“what did i say about christmas?” you joke, nudging his shoulder softly.
“sorry, sorry,” he laugh, putting his hands up. you wait patiently for him as he kneels behind the register, looking for your comic. he pops back up with a stumped look on his face. “i swear i thought i put it up here to give to you but i can’t find it. i’m gonna go check the back.”
he starts walking to the back room, and looks back at you. “feel free to sit if you want. our stockroom is a wreck, this might take a sec.”
you nod to him, squeezing past the tower of boxes to sit in the chair at the register. it feels kinda funny to sit back here, like you’re seeing the store from a different perspective, from mark’s perspective. you look around behind the counter, seeing the little notes and cute super-hero knick knacks gathered around.
there’s a mini batman funko pop positioned in the corner, with a sticky note placed under his feet reading “no drinks at the register.” you look over to see a large iced coffee with mark’s name in sharpie. well, we all bend the rules a bit. his name tag is placed on the counter by a stack of comics. you grab it to take a closer look. it’s a plastic red pin with a white pop-art bubble. in the corner is a small piece of paper stuck on it, attached with office tape. on the paper is a spider-man doodle, made with red and blue marker and pen ink.
you’re sure this must’ve been drawn by mark. you have yet to see any of his drawings (despite your prying), so maybe seeing this one up close will give you a sneak peek into his style. it’s a little messy, with scratchy lines and colors bleeding outside the borders. despite that, it has a distinct style that you’re fond of. it’s not perfect, let alone does it look like the super-heroes you’ve been reading in your comics. but it has a quality to it that feels less polished and flat. it has character. the messiness makes it feel more… real.
you set his name tag down, placing it back next to the large stack of comics. these must be his go-backs. he’s been so wrapped up with his shipment he probably hasn’t had time to put them away. you think maybe it would be nice to help a bit. he’s been nice enough to let you borrow comics from the store, and you’re just waiting around after all.
you pick up the stack of comics, situating them into your arms, when you look down and see that under the stack is mark’s notepad. it’s not closed like you’re used to seeing it, opened to a clean white page with a drawing covering up a majority of it. it’s in a comic book style, you’re not surprised. but it has the same quality that his name tag doodle does; scrawly and messy, with no real precise lines. the colors are splashed across the page, with blotches of scribbled colored marker decorating it. then realize what it is—who it is.
it’s you.
the whole image captures you and a little bit of your surroundings. positioned at your normal spot at the register, you’re looking down at a comic with your fingers playing with the ends of your hair. but it has a dream-like feel to it, with the pages of the comic illuminating your face as if a source of power is emanating from it. and then the best part: the wings. placed behind your shoulders are pair of feathered wings, outstretched in a sketched black ink. it’s beautiful.
it’s beautiful and it’s you. mark drew you.
“yo, sorry that took so long,” mark says while emerging from the back, eyes still focused on the comic in his hands. “i finally found it, but dude i had to do some digging—”
mark’s words are cut short when he notices you holding his notepad, comics that were placed atop abandoned on the counter by you. he visibly gulps.
“mark…” you start, not moving your eyes from the drawing. “what’s this?” without a response for a few moments, you tear your eyes away to see mark with blush on his cheeks, mouth open but unable to let any words out. “did you… did you draw me?”
“look, it gets really slow during the day, i just did a little sketch to pass time—”
“mark, this isn’t just a sketch,” you say, looking back down at the notepad. “this is amazing.”
“y-you like it?” mark says, hand rubbing the back of his neck.
“of course i like it,” you say.
“you don’t think it’s weird that i drew you without telling you?” mark asks, nervousness radiating from him.
“i don’t think it’s weird at all,” you say. “i actually love it. i like that you drew me as a superhero too, and one with wings at that.”
mark stays quiet, looking at his feet and probably overthinking everything right now. you look back up at him, tension building in your stomach as you ask what you already know the answer to. “you like me, don’t you?”
mark lifts his head to meet your eyes. he bites his lip anxiously as he nods slowly.
a streak of courage overtakes you as you grab his arm to pull him closer, him tripping over his own feet and crashing into your chest. you’re leaned against the counter, with mark’s arm behind you and hand placed flat on the surface. your faces are close, and you can feel his breath. his eyes are glued onto your lips, and he swallows thickly.
“mark, just kiss me,” you mumble, aching for him.
he wastes no time, leaning in to slot his lips between yours. he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you as close as he can. you melt into him, goosebumps floating across your skin in all-consuming desire. you move your hand to hold his cheek, thumb swiping on his smooth skin and fingers tangled in his soft, messy hair.
he pulls away, breath still shaky. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long…” he trails off before leaning in and kissing you again, this time with more passion. he swipes his tongue between your lips, with you willingly accepting him. his hands trail up and down your sides, then finally places a firm grip on your waist and lifting you to sit on the counter. he slots between your legs, his body pressed close to yours. your fingers card through his hair, earning a sweet hum from him.
his hands trail down to your ass, pushing you closer against him to where you feel the bulge forming in his jeans. he can’t even hold back his moan, it being muffled by your lips. he pulls away again, this time kissing from your cheek down to your neck. he sucks at the expanse of skin while he caresses the other side of your throat. you let out a soft hum in pleasure, savoring every bite and lick—
“fuck, you sound so hot too,” he says in between kisses. he moves a hand down to your breast, kneading it roughly. you throw your head back, soaking in the pleasure from just his hands alone. his beautiful fucking hands, the ones that drew you. his lips feel so good on you, but his hands feel even better. it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment for eternity and he doesn’t want to let you go. almost as if holding you, touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. it doesn’t feel real to you either; that mark, the cute boy you’ve had a crush on for weeks and weeks is kissing you, holding you, and yearning for you all the same.
you feel so wrapped up in the moment that you almost forget that you’re in public. sure, there’s no one left in the mall and the only people left are probably mall security, but the risk of being seen is still there. it just feels too good to stop.
“mark,” you say, giving in to the anxiety. “are we really doing this? right here, right now?”
he pulls back to look at you, still holding you close. “it’s just us here, and if it’s okay with you, i don’t think i can wait any longer.”
“i don’t think i can either,” you respond.
suddenly mark is ripping your clothes off, all while pulling you both behind one of the comic display cases. it’s your turn to take his clothes off, and you’re yanking his jacket off and pulling up his graphic tee and discarding them both on the floor. the exchange is a jumbled mess of constant touching of skin and clothes flying in every direction, a true testament to how desperate you both want each other. he’s kissing you all the while, taking every opportunity to peck at you between the tugging of clothes.
he leans you against the display bookshelf full of comics, completely unbothered when an issue or two falls off. your hand travels down into this jeans, feeling him hard and pulsing against your palm. you stroke his length slowly, focusing most of the stimulation on his dripping head. he lifts one of your legs slightly to get better access to you under your skirt, then looks at you as if he’s asking for permission.
you nod your head profusely before leaning in to kiss him deeply. it doesn’t last long, because suddenly he’s pushing inside you and you’re gasping at the stretch—
“you’re so—fuck—so fucking tight,” he hisses, attempting to push in as slowly as he can. your mouth is fully agape in bliss as he finally bottoms out, reaching deep inside of you. he catches your eyes, lust filled in his own as he slowly starts to move.
he’s slow at first, knowing that his size is stretching you out to the point where it’s nearly painful. but it feels so fucking good, his cock dragging in and out of your tight walls. you can tell he wants to pick up the pace, with his breath shuddering with each stroke. you take the opportunity to kiss him again, wanting to taste his soft lips as he gradually begins to pound into you.
he’s groaning against your lips, and your moans are muffled against his. you’re trying to salvage any sort of public decency by holding back your sounds the best you can. it’s when he grabs your legs and lifts you to press you against the display shelf that you realize that that shred of awareness of your surroundings is about to be long fucking gone.
he’s holding you up by gripping your ass, pistoning into you at a pace that you can only describe as brutal. it’s no use trying to stifle your moans anymore, with him hitting your cervix over and over and making you see stars at each stroke—
“mark, it feels so fucking good,” you can only whine out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter, tugging at his hair—
“you feel so fucking good, jesus,” he groans against your neck, heaving breaths tickling at your throat.
his pace is wild, but the force in which he’s pounding into you begins to cause the comic books around you to tumble off the shelves, creating a pile at mark’s feet. he doesn’t seem to care though. that is, until a comic book falls from a shelf above you and hits him on the head.
“ah!” he exclaims, realizing what happened. he stops his movements to look at you, holding back a smile.
you can’t hold back your laugh, giggling profusely at the ridiculousness of the situation. he laughs too, shaking his head and letting out a sigh.
“this is crazy,” he says, resting his forehead on yours.
“i know,” you reply, still giggling. with one last laugh, he leans in and kisses you tenderly, smile still formed on his lips. you melt into him, ruffling your fingers through his hair as he begins to pick back up the roll of his hips into you.
it feels like a sweet moment, the fact that you can be doing such a scandalous act and still giggle with him. the tenderness doesn’t last for long, however, when he hits that perfect spot inside you that forces you to release a sharp moan.
“mark, oh my god,” you whimper, attempting to roll your hips down onto him. “keep doing that, please—”
“fuuuck,” he groans, feeling your core clenching around his length. “you take me so well, baby.”
all you can do now is nod, whimpering and whining on him. you can’t believe that this man that has always been so endearing, so kind and lovable has this completely different side to him that you’re only now getting to experience. it brings a different sort of intrigue to him; that he’s more than just a cute boy that works at a mall. he’s complex. he’s a fucking man. he’s a fucking. sex. god.
his breathing starts to become irregular, and his pace is back to merciless. his groans, fuck, his moaning. he’s bouncing you on his cock in the perfect way to where your moans are matching his. you can feel his dick pulsing inside you—
“i’m gonna cum,” he can only breathe out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “can i?”
“yes mark, please,” you whine, tugging at the ends of his hair. all the while you’re clenching around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to his release.
with a low groan, his hips stutter and you feel his seed spilling into you, completely filling you up. the rocking of his hips stall, and he’s finally letting you down and kissing you sweetly, caressing your cheek with his hand.
“god, you are fucking perfect,” he whispers to you. you let out a giggle, leaning your forehead against his. “hey, i’m not done with you yet.”
he quickly moves you to the glass display counter, lifting you to sit you on it. he pushes your thighs open, lifting your skirt up to get a better look at you. he looks enamored, like he’s starving and the only thing to appease his hunger is by having you on his mouth.
he dives in, licking a stripe up your core with a groan. he repeats this action, as if he’s savoring every drop of your essence mixed with his release that’s slowly dripping out of you—
“so fucking hot,” he hums, releasing a hand from your thigh to tease at your entrance.
“mark, please,” you beg. “stop teasing—”
he attaches his mouth to your clit, swirling his tongue around in smooth, controlled circles. your hands fly to his head, body already twitching from stimulation. his finger is still prodding at your hole, wanting to enter but not just yet. he instead continues to ravage at your sensitive bud, intentional movements making your head spin. he knows what he’s doing and he knows he’s good, especially with the shaking of your thighs and high pitched moans escaping your lips egging him on.
he looks up at you, flattening his tongue out and doing long, drawn out licks. the eye contact is insane, the lust filled in them only making it that much hotter. he’s enjoying every second of this, seeing you shake and begging him to keep going. he loves the taste of you too, so sweet and almost addictive. he could die like this.
his teasing finger finally starts to deepen inside you, slowly at first. he can feel every pulse of your core around his finger, and it’s so hot that he can feel himself getting hard again. and you’re so wet, oh my god, so fucking wet. your arousal is dripping down his chin and his hand, making a sticky mess. when you start to roll your hips onto his face, he swears he’s in heaven.
he inserts another finger, feeling that tightness grip around them. it’s only getting more erratic now, clenching around him with each grind of your hips. he curls his fingers to prod at that sensitive spot, causing you to moan out his name—
“mark, don’t stop,” you whine, looking down at him basically making out with your pussy.
he continues the same movements, repeatedly hitting your g spot and swirling his dripping tongue on your clit. your back arches and legs unintentionally close around his head, making him push them back open with his free hand.
and then he starts humming against you. the vibrations send a shock wave through your body, that mixed with his fingers, his tongue, his hand gripping tightly against your thigh… it feels so intense and so so good. you cum on his tongue, with him desperately holding your hips down and he helps you ride out your high. he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, and you have to grab his head and lift it.
“oh my god,” you gasp, slowly coming down.
he smirks up at you with arousal-coated lips. “yeah, oh my god.” he stands up, immediately going to kiss you and you accepting him, wrapping your arms around him. he pulls away and leans his head against yours.
“i can’t believe we just did that,” he says, sighing out an exasperated laugh.
“i know, what the fuck, right?” you giggle.
“are you- are you doing anything right now?” he asks. “like, do you wanna get food or something?”
“are you asking me on a date?” you ask teasingly.
“don’t tell me you decided you’re creeped out by the drawing now,” he laughs.
“yeah. suuuper creeped out,” you joke, leaning in for another kiss. you hear a noise behind you, and look out through the security shutters to see a mall security guard passing by, scrolling through his phone.
“looks like he just missed the show,” mark says, causing you both to try and hold back your fit of giggles.
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a/n: thank u guys for reading! i rly enjoyed this one hehe :-) please leave feedback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!
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mell0wjello · 6 months ago
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𝓣𝓦𝓢𝓣 !𝓝𝓢𝓕𝓦! 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 !
~~~~~~
DNI If you’re uncomfortable with these topics !
𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼𝓵𝓪𝓫𝔂𝓾𝓵 𝓿𝓮𝓻 !
~~~~~~
𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝓈𝑒𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈
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mommy kink
Tries his best to top, but ends up bottoming almost every time
The reason he’s bad at topping is because: 1, he’s very stiff, he’s too overwhelmed. 2, he literally tops by the book
Before his first time, he read a book on tips and bases everything he does on that
He is trying his best to get better though
Serious praise kink. Degradation will actually break his heart
Riddle has surprising stamina so he can go a decent number of rounds, although he doesn't last as long
He's prone to overstimulation, this is all very new to him
Mostly liquidy, and tastes ok. Somewhat sweet.
Kind of loud, but he tries to muffle most of it because he considers it "indecent"
𝒜𝒸𝑒 𝒯𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑜𝓁𝒶
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Ass man
Eating ass, looking at ass, cumming in ass, fucking in ass. Completely ass drunk
Lots of foreplay for him. Even teasing can count as foreplay for him when he's in the mood, which is quite often
He's really mean. He'll deny you orgasms and will tease you the entire time about it.
He loves reverse cowgirl and doggy for obvious reasons aforementioned, but he likes seeing your spine arch as well
Personally I hc Ace specifically being either Bi or Pan. I feel like he'd also be open to poly relationships or simply bringing a 3rd person into the bedroom
A little bit of degradation on both ends will really get him going
Ace is a switch but prefers to be the one in control. He's super athletic, of course he'd have good stamina too.
Thicker consistency, and kind of sourish. A little harder to swallow.
So whiny and he curses so much
𝒟𝑒𝓊𝒸𝑒 𝒮𝓅𝒶𝒹𝑒
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Deuce is very sweet and very gentle
Would never do anything to hurt you
It would be pretty chill with him, very sweet unless you propose something else
Deuce thinks of intimate time as a private thing between the both of you, so he takes it very seriously
Your pleasure above his. His priority is to make sure you feel good all throughout
This by consequence also brings about some of the sweetest aftercare. He’ll make sure you know how loved and appreciated you are <3
For that reason, I think he’d be very open to experiment with kinks and positions, as long as it doesn’t involve hurting you or potentially putting you in a dangerous situation
Seeing your blissed out expressions fuels him to keep going further
Sometimes a few curses slip up, but he tries to hold them back
Tastes as decent as cum can taste like. Not watery, but not super thick either, it’s not particularly difficult to swallow
Cuddles afterwards always. Or at least expect him to end up falling asleep cradling you in his arms
𝒞𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒟𝒾𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹
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He films the whole thing on his phone and has a whole album dedicated to it. And he’s sneaky about it too, you can hardly tell when he’s filming, unless he’s blatantly doing it which also adds to the excitement
Asked for nudes way too quickly
Sexting (shocking)
He’d have no reservations using his unique magic. Are both of his hands busy? No problem, he’ll use Split Card for another pair, sometimes several
Taking advantage of his unique magic, he’d try all sorts of things to push you over the brink.
I feel like he'd test to see how much stimuli you can stand with all his clones
He’d put your hair up if it’s long enough, and pull on it
Cater would also have an obscene amount of toys from the most popular ones to the most niche.
He’d also be down for pretty much anything, at least once
A little thicker, with a little more sour and salty taste.
𝒯𝓇𝑒𝓎 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇
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He'd definitely use doodle suit to make his and your cum taste like whipped cream
For this reason he loves eating you out and vice versa
Trey sucks on whatever he can. Your shoulder, your neck, your tits, your fingers. Treating them like sweet candy
He loves to have you clawing at his back and leaving scratch marks all over it, so he really likes missionary
He'll help you brush your teeth after giving him head
Best aftercare ever?? Like he'd whip up anything you'd like, run a hot bath for you, and tuck you in afterward, maybe even cuddle if you feel like it
Although Trey is very usually mild-mannered, this switches around with you. He can become quite rough as a way of stress relief if you give him permission. He'll slap you, yank on your hair, keep a sharp grasp on your hips and wrists
Trey is vocal, but not too loud.
He can make it taste and smell like anything, but it does have a thicker consistency
He'd often incorporate real food, as a form of temperature play and sitophilia. He'd pour a chilled drink over your body to lick it all up or place something sweet between your legs to eat you out
~~~~~~
1K notes · View notes
lizziesangel · 4 days ago
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RAFE CAMERON ⟢ your locker
x FEM!KOOK!reader ⟢ MASTERLIST
SUMMARY: a note gets left behind when you’re standing in front of rafe’s locker
WORD COUNT: + 1k
GENRE: fluff
CONTENT WARNING: /
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you’re sitting in the back row of your english class, doodling absentmindedly on the edge of your notebook. it’s not like you weren’t paying attention to the lecture—well, maybe you weren’t. it’s just that he, sitting three rows in front of you, had completely stolen your focus.
his back is to you, but it doesn’t matter. even with just the back of his head to look at, it’s like he’s the only person in the room.
“are you even listening?” your friend, laura leans over from the seat beside you, her voice pulling you back to reality.
“sorry?”
she follows your line of sight, her lips curling into a grin when she realizes where your attention has been. “oh my gosh, you’re staring at rafe cameron.”
your heart practically leaps out of your chest. “shh!” you whisper harshly, glancing around to make sure no one heard. “i wasn’t staring.”
laura raises an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “uh, yeah, you were. it’s okay, though. he is hot. honestly, i’m surprised you haven’t, like, said something to him.”
“are you crazy?” you hiss, feeling your face heat up. “i can’t just talk to someone like him. he’s… well, he’s rafe cameron.”
“so?” she shrugs, acting like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “you’re you. you’re smart, funny, cute—”
“stop,” you groan, cutting her off before she can make you even more embarrassed. “he doesn’t even know i exist. there’s no way i’m talking to him.”
“you don’t know that.” sarah gives you a mischievous smile. “he could totally have noticed you. i mean, you’ve got the whole mysterious quiet girl thing going for you.”
you roll your eyes. “mysterious quiet girl? that’s a reach.”
she shrugs, still grinning. “all i’m saying is, you’ll never know unless you try. maybe i should just go up to him and tell him for you.”
“don’t you dare,” you whisper, your voice full of panic.
laura laughs, leaning back in her chair. “fine, fine. but i’m telling you, you’ve got nothing to lose. just go for it.”
“i could lose my dignity.”
laura scoffs with a smile, “you’re really dramatic.”
you glance back toward rafe one more time, catching the way he runs a hand through his hair. yeah, no. there was no way you were going for it. not today, anyway.
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you’re standing in the hallway between classes, leaning against a random locker while your friends chatter beside you. your bag was slung over one shoulder, the strap digging slightly into your arm. the bell for lunch has already rung, the hallway filled with noise, a mix of slamming lockers, laughing, and the scrape of sneakers against tile. you weren’t headed anywhere in particular, just trying to kill time while waiting on the rest of your friends.
leaning casually against a random locker, you pull out your phone and scroll through a few messages, feeling the buzz of energy around you.
that’s when you hear it—a low chuckle from a few feet away. you glance up, instinctively drawn to the sound, and freeze. it’s rafe cameron and his friends. they’re walking in your direction, cutting through the crowd like they own the place, which, let’s be honest, they kind of do.
your heart stumbles at the sound. you look up, and there he is—rafe cameron, standing just a few feet away with a small, crooked grin on his face. his friends linger behind him, their gazes flicking between the two of you.
you try to act casual, busying yourself with your phone again, but your stomach flips as they stop a few feet away.
“sorry,” he says, his voice smooth and casual, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “mind if i grab something from my locker real quick?”
you blink, your brain struggling to keep up. his locker. you’re leaning on his locker.
“oh, sorry,” you mumble, clutching your bag tighter, before you can move completely out of the way, rafe gently tugs at the side of your bag, just enough to get your attention. “thanks,” he says, his hand dropping as soon as you shift.
as rafe spins the combination lock, you hear a quiet snicker from his friends. your cheeks burn, but when you glance at them, they immediately shut up. kelce and topper both give you these awkward little waves, like they weren’t just laughing. kelce even smiles, wide and kind of goofy, like he’s trying to make up for it.
“hey,” topper says, like he’s trying to be nice. “cool bag.”
“uh, thanks,” you manage, your voice barely audible over the thudding of your pulse.
you blink again, unsure of how to react. your friends, meanwhile, are unusually silent, their eyes darting between you and rafe like they’re watching a movie unfold.
he pulls open the locker door and starts swapping out books, completely unfazed by the small audience. his focus shifts briefly back to you. “sorry about that. didn’t mean to interrupt.”
interrupt? like he’d done something wrong. you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s fine. i didn’t realize… um, this was yours.”
he chuckles softly, the sound doing something traitorous to your heart. “yeah, no worries.”
and then, just like that, he closes the locker, flashes you a small smile, and walks off with his friends in tow.
your friends erupt as soon as he’s out of earshot.
“oh my gosh,” one of them says, practically bouncing on her toes. “did that really just happen?”
you feel your face heating up, still staring at where he disappeared down the hall. “i… don’t know.”
but as you glance back at the locker—the one you’d been leaning on—you notice something slipped between the vents. something folded. something small and white.
your heart races as you pull it out, unfolding the paper.
“ you can lean on my locker anytime. :) ”
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strawbeerossi · 1 year ago
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You Think, Genius?
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Being friends with Spencer Reid is an adventure within itself. Movie nights are no exception.
Content/Warnings: Friends type humor, tension, mention of food/food fight, best friends to lovers trope, heavy kissing, very sweet smut (wild because I hardly write that, I feel like lmao).
Word Count: 2.7k
Anon Request: spencer reid x sarcastic funny reader? not mean but like kinda like Chandler from friends humour? with earlish seasons reid (season 3/4)ish cute smut. ADDING TO THE SARCASTIC!READER SHE AND SPENCE HAVE A BESTFRIENDS TO LOVERS ARC 🫶🫶
Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request
RIP Matthew Perry, thank you for playing the king of sarcasm and being my inspiration for this. 🩷
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“Serial killers and childhood neglect have actually been linked together for years. Some of the most notorious serial killers were abused in some shape or fashion at home. Which makes sense whenever you take into account how easy it is to psychologically break a person and cause them to shut down, children being more receptive than most adults.” Spencer rambled on about some study he had been reading about.
Everyone was mostly tuned out besides you, your left hand holding the travel size cereal box up in clear view, your eyes wide. “That explains why I can’t stop eating this cereal! My mom made my life a living hell and now, all I think about is cereal. Oh god.” You said in a sarcastic tone, causing Derek to chuckle from his desk.
“She’s a cereal killer.” He joked while you both were giggling, making Spencer look between you and Derek, a confused expression on his face.
“She’s not a serial killer. I don’t think she’d be working here if she was one.”
The laughter continued on at your coworker’s obliviousness. “No, Spence,” JJ shook her head as she approached your chair, gently taking the little box before holding it up. “The joke is that she’s eating cereal. Cereal killer.” The blonde explained as you were turning back to Spencer.
“Oh, it’s no joke. I’ve got six bodies in my apartment right now. Just waiting to get home to do away with them.” You continued on, a little snort leaving your lips as you were getting your cereal back.
As you were pushing a handful in your mouth, you watched as Spencer looked at you with his head tilted to the side. “You haven’t killed anyone. I know that for a fact. You’re too nice.” He said while he was tapping his pen against his desk, JJ let out a huff and waved him off before she was walking away from your desk to get to her office.
“Isn’t there such a thing as killing people with kindness? That is my big move. I will be nice to them and boom,” You punched the palm of your hand to appear menacing. “I go in for the kill.”
Spencer was shaking his head with a soft giggle at the mere idea of it, your sarcasm slowly seeping through the cracks in an obvious way where he could see it.
“Right. How foolish of me to not understand it.” He joked softly while looking back down to the page he’d been doodling on. Your humor was new to Spencer, something he wasn’t really used to. You were a very sarcastic person, hardly ever having a conversation without injecting the encounter with your wit and sarcasm. He was still pretty clueless with it, however he felt he was getting better. Especially now that you had him saying his own sarcastic phrases at random times. It was weird for the rest of the team seeing the way you’d slowly brought Spencer out of that little bubble he was used to.
He was always the one who didn’t understand jokes or take sarcasm, appearing confused a good chunk of his career from the jokes and lighthearted banter. Being friends with you was a good way to learn how to understand though, which was why he was so lucky that you were his best friend.
“I was thinking of watching a movie. Do you wanna join me?” You asked, packing up your things as you looked over at Spencer as he raised an eyebrow.
“Tonight?” He asked, making you shake your head.
“No. Next week.” You answered with a deadpan expression while he crinkled his nose.
“You’re.. Being sarcastic..” He began while you rolled your eyes fondly with a smile.
“You think, genius? Come on, are you gonna come over or not?” You asked while putting your bag over your shoulder.
“I don’t see why not. Can we watch that new show that’s airing tonight?” He asked curiously, already following you out of the bullpen. He knew you’d give him a ride rather than sending him to go on the metro and meet you there later.
“Sure. I’ve been interested in it anyway. The new sci-fi one, right?” You asked as you made it to the parking garage with him as you were both in search of your car.
“Yes! It actually looks very interesting because from what I’ve read, they don’t make up their own rules as they go. They are using actual scientific data and evidence.” He gushed while you were clapping your hands together.
“Like learning in school! Oh how I loved school!” You were laughing as he had taken notice of the sarcasm and nudged your arm.
“Seriously. It’s going to be great! You may not think it now but you’ll enjoy it while learning about the real world when it comes to tech and space exploration.”
“We’ll have to see about that Dr. Reid.”
The ride back to your apartment was peaceful, the sounds of some radio station filling the quiet atmosphere of the car as you passed by numerous street signs. The comfortable silence was something you liked, never needing to strike up a conversation to enjoy Spencer’s company. Even if he was just reading while you were on your phone.
Back at your apartment, you’d just gotten the channel you needed pulled up, having about ten minutes until the show was supposed to air. Spencer made sure to tape it back at his own apartment, wanting to go back and watch alone to fully appreciate the show for more than its entertainment quality.
“Do you want me to run to the kitchen and get snacks?”
“You don’t have to run, Reid. You can walk.”
“Ha ha. So funny. Snacks or not?”
You were waving him off with a little laugh, offering a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Please go get some snacks. I think I have a big bag of that buttered popcorn you’re obsessed with.”
Spencer practically skipped to the kitchen upon hearing the news, retrieving one of your mixing bowls from one of your cupboards. After filling it up generously with the snack of choice, he was stopped by the fridge to grab two water bottles. With the two cold beverages under his arm, he was hurrying to the living room.
“I think we are all set.” He beamed with pride while placing the bowl on the table.
“Perfect. You’re right on time. It should start after these commercials.” You informed him while leaning forward to get a handful of popcorn from the bowl. While pushing a piece of popcorn into your mouth, you were only raising an eyebrow when you felt a pair of eyes on you. “What?” You asked, head turning to face Spencer as he quickly put his hands up in self defense.
“Nothing! I just wanted to see if it was good, that's all.”
“Right. I hate to tell you this, it tastes like buttered garbage. I don’t think you should subject yourself to eating it.” You joked, picking up a piece before flicking it in his direction, his eyes widening as he felt the snack hit his cheek.
“That could’ve taken out my eye!”
“Too bad it didn’t. We could get you an eyepatch.”
That was when Spencer took it a step further, getting a small handful of popcorn before throwing it in your direction. He was too busy laughing at your expression that mirrored his shock from earlier, pieces of popcorn in your hair and some on the couch.
“Is it a war that you want?”
“Me? You started it! Call it returned fire.”
That kickstarted a popcorn fight that didn’t seem to let up. Spencer was reaching into the now empty bowl before letting his eyes widen. He had no more ammo yet you had two handfuls. He was done for.
“You can apologize and we can end this.” You warned, your body now propped up on your knees as you had eventually turned to face him on the couch. “Just one ‘I’m sorry’ can end this bloodshed.”
“Never.”
“Suit yourself, Reid.” You were winding back one hand whenever Spencer was moving quickly to grip your wrist. There was some screaming, some laughing, and eventually you were being wrestled down onto the couch.
“Drop it!” Spencer laughed, both of your wrists being pinned down. “You do that and this will be all over.”
“No way.” You laughed, panting as you were being pinned down, some of Spencer’s long hair tickling the skin of your cheeks. You had both been in that position for a few more minutes before things calmed down, leaving you and the man above you to stare at one another and wait to reach a stalemate.
There was a growing tension, your faces only inches apart as he had you trapped between his body and the couch. Those beautiful eyes were looking down at you, almost as if Spencer was using the close proximity to take in every feature on your face. It was enough to make your face flush, cheeks hot from his gaze fixed on you and only you. The sound of the opening credits for the show you were supposed to be watching was playing in the background yet you could only look at each other.
There wasn’t a beat missed as he leaned down, lips against yours in a soft, yet cautious kiss. He felt like he had to play it safe, although the way you were feverishly returning the kiss told him all that he needed to know.
There was a fiery passion as your lips slotted together, almost as if they were made for one another. Your hands were moving to tangle in his hair, legs now wrapped around his waist as you both gave in to your urges that were always bubbling under the surface for however long you’d known the loveable genius.
It felt right, in a way. The way your were wrapped in one another’s embrace while having a moment of passion that you never expected to happen. However you had to admit, this was better than you ever thought.
Spencer was pulling out of the kiss, face flushed as he stared down at you with a shy smile. “It felt right. I’m sorry.” He whispered, only being pleased with the way you responded by pulling him down to connect your lips again, wanting to savor another moment as if he were going to disappear in thin air if you let him get too far.
The kiss had escalated soon enough, both of your clothes in a pile on the floor as you were tangled up on the couch, nothing but underwear separating you from each other. “Are you sure that you want this?” Spencer soon asked, his forehead against yours. Your friendship was always special to him, so naturally, he was worried about preserving those positive memories and the relationship as a whole.
“Definitely sure. I’ve thought about this for years.” For once, you were genuine. There was no hint of sarcasm dripping from your tone. That’s how he knew this was serious. “I’ve always loved you. I know you know that because I tell you all the time but it’s.. It's different than loving your best friend.”
Your confession had Spencer’s cheeks bright red, head nodding slowly to show he was paying attention. “Y-yeah. I love you more than a friend too.” He said slowly while he was bringing his hands down your hips, his fingertips tracing over your hot skin as he was hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties.
Your hips lifted to assist him tugging your underwear down, your own cheeks hot from being exposed in one of your most intimate areas. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had sex before and you had confidence when you did but this seemed different.
“I need.. Hold on.” Spencer began while pushing himself up a bit, your watching with a raised eyebrow as you propped yourself up on your elbows. He went for his slacks, getting his wallet.
“Are you gonna pay me for this?”
“What?! No! I-I just..” He began, shuffling through the wallet before he was pulling a condom from one of the wallet folds.
“You have a condom? You were planning for this?”
“No! I have.. I asked Derek for one. Obviously not for tonight but I had to be prepared!” He said quickly while tossing his wallet on the table.
You didn’t tease him any farther, instead your eyes gazing over his body as he was shimmying out of his boxers while standing. Just kissing you had his cock semi-hard, his hand wrapping around his shaft to give a few pumps in order to complete the process although it wasn’t too hard with the anticipation of what was to come tonight.
After sliding on the contraception, he was heading over to get settled between your legs. His eyes were glancing over your glistening pussy, your arousal shining in the dim light of the living room. “Wow.” He whispered, hand moving between your thighs as his thumb pressed against your throbbing clit. The pressure alone was enough to make your mouth go slack.
“Fuck.” You breathed while feeling the pad of his thumb start to rub your clit, your arousal coating it with each swipe. He was taking his time with teasing you, at least.
When he was finished with massaging the bundle of nerves and he couldn’t hold back any more, he was grabbing his cock before lining his tip along with your entrance, thick tip breaching your slick cunt as he was slowly pushing into you when you were both ready enough.
There was a pleasurable burn as he was stretching out your inner walls, your hands tightly gripping onto his shoulders as you pulled his body down onto yours just to feel his skin against yours. It was oddly more intimate than you could’ve expected, even with him staying perfectly still with his cock nestled deep inside of you.
There was a soft gasp leaving your lips when he gave a slow thrust, just testing the waters for now as he didn’t wanna go too crazy before you were ready. He didn’t plan on going super hard anyway, that wasn’t who he was. “You alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Keep going.” You urged.
Once you proved comfortable enough due to your persistence, Spencer’s thrusts began to pick up a steady pace and rhythm. Your moans were enough encouragement for him to feel confident enough in the act, not shying away from you as much as anyone would’ve expected.
They rhythmic sound of his skin slapping against yours coupled with your gasps, shaky breaths and moans were filling the living room, the long forgotten show still filling the background noise. Spencer had since embraced you, one arm wrapped under your frame as the other kept himself pushed up over you. He just wanted to feel you close, to hold you as he made love to you.
It was beautiful to him, the way you were holding him and keeping him close in return. It was like you were the only people in the world, no responsibilities other than being close to one another. The warmth of your flushed skin against his was all he needed to be happy.
It was a dream, essentially. A dream so vibrant that Spencer didn’t want it to end, even if he knew that realistically he couldn’t be in a dreamland forever.
As he was torn from his thoughts at the feeling of your hands on his cheeks, he was offering you a smile as you were locking eyes with one another. “I love you.” He said softly, repeating what you’d both confessed earlier while leaning down to press his lips against yours.
It was after the fact whenever you were finally speaking again, body sitting up from the spot you were in on the couch as Spencer had retreated to the kitchen to dispose of the used condom. “Do you wanna come take a shower with me? No funny business.” You put your hands up in defense.
“No. It’s too personal for me to see you naked.” For the first time, Spencer was the one to be sarcastic with you, making you both burst into laughter.
“I’ve taught you well. Come on.”
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the-odd-shu · 3 days ago
Text
I would recognise you in another lifetime
Masterlist: You do not need to read any of the previous works to understand this piece!
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Relationship: Jayce/Viktor/Reader (polyamory)
Word Count: 15k
Summary: Alone and immune to the Mage’s magic, you continued to wander a destroyed Piltover.
OR
Reader and Viktor are having marital issues in the alternate dimension whilst Cannon!Jayce just tries to survive.
(Reader uses they/them pronouns.)
NOTE: So this began as a short, fun what-if scenario, but I seemed to get possessed and turned it into a fully fleshed out one-shot :) Here is the original post that inspired this piece. And HERE is the work uploaded on Ao3 if anything prefers to read over there.
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The end of the world was cold. 
The wind seemed to scream with a thousand ghostly voices as it eagerly tugged at your clothes, forcing you to pull them tighter to your frame, or risk losing them. What little food you could scrounge up, was tasteless and dull; necessary fuel more than an enjoyable meal.
This new ‘perfect world’ was dark, and quiet and devoid of all of the colours that had first drawn you to the glittering City of Progress. You hated it. Even though a small part of you, not consumed by the desperation to survive and a burning rage, could still see a twisted beauty to this new, lonely world you inhabited. You had to squint hard to see it of course, but it was there.
There was an eerie beauty to the statue-like mechanical dolls dotted throughout the cities. Stood like sentries on both ends of the collapsed bridge, dotting the streets by the dozen, or perched upon dilapidated structures. They were uncanny, in all honesty. Machines playing at citizens. Specks of pure white in a world that was all shadow and gloom.  Motionless without the invisible hand and genius mind of a benevolent god to keep them vigilant. 
A god you were currently hiding from.
If there was one blessing that came out of the end of the world, it was that you had come out of the war with the ability to go unnoticed by the very man who had brought about its end. 
Even brushing shoulders in a crowd of his personal soldiers, you went unseen. Unnoticed. Unrecognised.
The figure striding uneasily along several paces ahead of you, was not so lucky. 
He did not notice, but those porcelain heads turned as he strode past. Held at bay by the will of their puppeteer.
Dressed in an overcoat of Piltovern white, this ghost from your past still walked with a certainty to his set shoulders that this world would eventually crack and break down. His journey into the city had stained his councilor’s jacket with flecks of mud, a hint of corruption already beginning to claw its way up one of his coat tails. 
The hammer perched on one broad shoulder had only just begun to erode from the force of the magic undetected in the air, but still held most of its original structure. It too was achingly familiar to you, and yet had been lost to time. Its presence brought back memories of long nights spent in a laboratory amongst friends who were on the verge of becoming even more precious to you. It reminded you of naps stolen on a couch too small for three people, and a chalkboard constantly brimming with new thoughts and ideas, alongside tiny doodles scrawled in the corners by your own hand.
Blinking back those bitter phantoms, you watched the figure struggle to navigate the crowd of dormant hivemind dolls. You could see from the paranoid toss and turn of his head, that he had begun to realise that the humanoid figures were not as statue-like as they seemed. In his peripheral vision, he would no doubt be seeing them stir and twitch jerkily, only for them to fall still again the moment he looked at them directly.
It was a necessary but cruel trick, played by the Mage who controlled them. A means to drill home the message that this ending was to be avoided at all costs. That this version of things could not be allowed to come to fruition again.
You trailed him at a distance. Close enough to keep him in view, but far back enough that he would not notice you. They never did. 
Far above him, and a whole, empty river ahead, the spire of Piltover’s Hexgate column shone in the sunlight as it cast a heavy shadow over the rest of the city. Even from so far down on the ground, you could just barely make out the hint of greenery growing across the dome’s surface.
Your quiet musing cut off at the sound of a scuffle up ahead. The unmistakable grind of metallic joints popping and spinning. You heard a panicked yelp, hurried footsteps, all before the silhouette of the man suddenly vanished from sight with a shriek of terror that promptly dissolved into sharp agony. 
The sound made your body instinctively lunge forward. The hivemind dolls had no use for cries of pain, let alone lungs. Their suffering had been erased alongside their identities, so there was no need- 
You wove under mechanical arms, skirted around marble bodies, and came to a sharp stop at the sight of a ravine. Far below, you could hear as another yelp and grunt abruptly cut off into a sharp, desperate whimper of pain, alongside the metallic crack of metal hitting stone. 
The trench was so deep, you could not see him in the darkness. Nor detect the glow of his hammer.
Damn it! 
Damn! 
It! 
Why did everything always have to be so difficult? How did all his alternate selves manage to throw you through a loop instead of following the blasted Mage STRAIGHT to the Hexgate dome like they were supposed too?
Idiots! The lot of them!
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Jayce woke up. 
And that in itself was a miracle. 
His head throbbed as he lifted it from the cold, unforgiving stone floor. Wincing at the twinge of his neck, he felt a bruise already forming on the right side of his face, spanning from his temple down to his chin. Vision swimming, he tried to push himself up onto his elbows. The cold had seeped into his fingers from how long he’d been laying there, and had turned his toes numb. 
Unfeeling fingers dug down into the grainy dirt as he tried to heave himself up onto his knees, only for a bolt of pure agony to shoot up his leg when he tried to use his left leg. The following shout of pain ripped out of his throat before he could think to stifle it. It echoed out between the tight walls of the cavern, chasing itself up towards the surface far far above. 
Teeth ground tight against further sounds, Jayce ducked his head and peered down under his torso to find his pant leg bloody and the bones of his fibula tenting his trousers out at a weird angle. It was obviously broken, and had no doubt burst through his skin in the fall. Just the sight alone, had bile rising sharply up the back of his throat.
As his initial cry finally faded, the sound of rhythmic, dripping water reached Jayce’s ears. The damp stench hit him next, forcing itself up his nose, as the reality of his situation began to sink in.
He was at the bottom of a ravine. Injured. And stuck in some alternate reality, that was not his own. A reality where Piltover and Zaun alike had been destroyed. And worse of all, he was alone. 
No one would find him down here. 
The hooded Mage he had followed into the city hadn’t seemed to hear him when he called out. And apart from those humanoid creatures, he had not seen another soul throughout the entire trip into the city from the very outskirts-
“Jayce.”
His entire body went rigid at the hissed whisper. His head pounded from the tightening of his jaw. His leg cried out as every muscle seethed. He waited. Breath caught fast in his throat. 
Nothing but the sound of dripping water replied. He let his breath ease out of his mouth. Maybe he should have been a little concerned that he was already beginning to hear things-
“Jayce.” The same low whisper repeated. Closely followed by the sound of tiny pebbles dislodging from rock. To his right, he heard and then saw the soft click and patter of the tiny rock crumbs falling to the stone not far from where he lay.
Blinding panic slammed into Jayce, as his broken body twisted around with a snap.
The ravine echoed his panicked movements back to him. The slap of a clammy palm against unforgiving, icy stone. The whisper of his filthy clothes sliding against each other. The scrap of his boots along the jagged stone floor as they failed to find purchase. His leg protested all of the movement, but the feeling of being watched made Jayce’s panic all the more consuming and rabid.
"Who-who's there?" He demanded, his voice coming out cracked and uneven. A mockery of the confident ‘Man of Progress’ he pretended to be back home.
His mind unhelpfully supplied him with the featureless faces of the dolls far above. Terrifying suggestions of them having followed him down here. Of them creeping closer in the dark, undetected until it was too late for him to hope to stop them-
The shuffle of shoes on stone had his head snapping upwards so fast that his neck popped with sharp warmth. His entire body seized as he spotted a humanoid figure perched on a ledge a few feet above where he laid. Back lit by the surface, far, far above, the figure was crouched, and peering over the lip of the ledge. From his vantage point, Jayce could just make out the curl of their fingertips over the edge of the platform.
Somehow, it did not resemble the rest of the jerkily moving puppets on the surface. For starters, it actually had the vague shape of features on its face, ears and the suggestion of a nose, where those other creatures had been smooth, marble-like masks-
It has several eyes, Jayce realised with a sickening lurch of horror. Two in the normal places that humans had eyes that shone subtly in the poor lighting. And then five points across its forehead, that glowed with an unnatural, inner light. If Jayce had not been so terrified, he may have thought they were arranged like the points of a crown, but in that moment, every instinct in his screamed how unnatural the sight was. How much like prey he felt, looking up at it.
"Impossible." The thing whispered to itself, which was a testament to just how silent the ravine was that Jayce could hear it. The two glowing points where its human eyes were, flickered as it blinked slowly.
Then its shadow abruptly disappeared from view. Jayce’s brow furrowed as its fingers remained in his line of sight, where they flexed. Then its head appeared again. Before disappearing once more. It was being indecisive. For why, Jayce couldn’t tell.
And then it hissed out a quiet, “damn the Gods,” before it swung its leg over the edge of the ledge and began to climb down TOWARDS him.
Jayce’s heart leapt up into the base of his throat as his eyes blew wide at the speed in which it moved. He was unable to tear his eyes off it, as the thing fluidly found foot and hand holds in the seemingly smooth rockface. It moved with the surety of an uncanny mountain goat down the uneven terrain. Clearly, it had been navigating this habitat for some time. 
All too soon, its booted feet slammed down into the ground and it straightened up like a man.
Jayce’s eyes promptly leapt over to his hammer, embedded face down out of reach, then he dragged them back to the thing. The lighting was poor this deep in the ravine, but his eyes had adjusted enough to make out ruined, Piltover style clothes, worn shoes and scraggly, unkempt hair. 
Its head tilted, studying him as he studied it. And then, fearlessly, it approached him. 
Jayce yelped, his fingernails scraping against stone, as he tried - and failed - to scramble away.  The creature froze in place. Jayce rolled onto his back, his leg protesting every motion as he threw up his arm to shield his face."S-stay away!" He ordered, mentally cursing the wobble to the words. 
For a moment, it didn’t move. He could just hear it breathing. Slow and calm.
“Oh. Oh my Love." It whispered with audible gentleness to its hissed words. “What has he let happen to you?” Jayce’s brows furrowed at the odd phrasing, before he flinched as the thing smoothly lowered itself closer to his level. Its knees hit the stone with twin thumps, before it shuffled closer on all fours. A failed attempt at being nonthreatening.
His entire body tightened up defensively as it drew nearer, but it seemed to pay his reactions no mind. "I'll throttle that bastard the next time I lay eyes on him." It continued to mutter to itself, an underlying fury to its words now, although Jayce somehow knew he was not the cause of it. "Allowing you to suffer in the name of learning. As if you haven't had a rough several days already."
It let out a frustrated little huff as it continued to mutter to itself. A sound so weirdly familiar, that Jayce realised with a snag that he recognised the voice. His breath stuttered as he realised he hadn’t noticed before, because of how rough the words sounded, as if the creature hadn’t had use for human sounds for a long time.
Unaware of his slowly dawning realisation, he watched as it crawled closer to his leg. A small part of him sighed in relief that it hadn’t taken an interest in his head or anything vital, whilst another part screamed at him to defend his new weakness. 
He was so torn between the two, that he ended up with no time to react either way, as the figure stopped approaching a healthy hand's length away, and simply leaned over the bloodied limb with a sharp tut. “Definitely broken.” 
Jayce would have laughed at the dry analysis, if he were anywhere but trapped in the bottom of a ravine with a seven eyed stranger.
"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Jayce asked, like an idiot. 
And its seven, glowing eyes snapped up to his face. 
 In truth, he already knew the answer to his question, but he also didn't. This person may have sounded like his partner. May have shared similar speech patterns, and mannerisms with someone he held dear. But this person before him was foreign to him. They moved differently to who he was expecting. Acted differently to the person he knew so intimately.
"Oh." They said again, voice creaking. Head tilting in the bizarre way his partner’s never would have. "You do not recognise me." And oh, the sheer sadness laced between those words as good as sucker punched him. It awakened a knee-jerk reaction in Jayce that instantly made him want to smooth over the hurt. To offer sweet words in reassurance. 
He only barely managed to bite his tongue in time.
Not like this. He wanted to say. I know you, but I do not recognise you. Not like this.
“I cannot see you very well,” he said instead, words chosen carefully. 
And they hummed, sitting back on their hunches as their glowing gaze pinned him in place. 
“Perhaps,” they said quietly, more to themself than Jayce. “Maybe I can…” they trailed off, a grunt of effort escaping their lips.
For a heartbeat, there was only the drip of water in the background. Then the five points on their forehead flickered and burned with such an intensely white light that Jayce cried out and shielded his eyes. 
“Sorry. I do not tap into the magic very often.” They told him, sounding genuinely apologetic, before quickly adding in explanation, “it gives me a headache.”
Behind his clenched eyelids, Jayce watched as the light dimmed to a more manageable level. Slowly, he lowered his arm and peered over it, to find the figure before him was certainly more visible, the eyes on their forehead offering a soft output of light.
No, wait, those were not eyes. 
With a grunt of effort, Jayce lifted himself up into a sitting position, his own eyes narrowing as he realised that those glowing points were in fact runes. Runes that were now acting as their own light source, like a miner’s headlamp. They emitted a glow similar to the light of the Hexcore. Specifically, how the magic had glowed when it had been infused into Viktor’s limbs when he had reawakened and stumbled his way across the lab. 
Gods, that felt like a lifetime ago now, when it had merely been a matter of days.
The runes- which, now he was looking, seemed to have been carved into their forehead - tilted with their head to that unnatural angle again as the figure asked seriously, “better?”
The word instantly banished the lingering uncertainty from Jayce's mind as with a jolt, he registered the rest of their appearance outside of the runes. As he gazed upon a face he knew intimately, and yet looked alien to him now.
They looked tired, was his first thought. However long they had been here, the years had worn into their skin, adding weight beneath their eyes, and grey streaks to their hair. They were older than the person Jayce knew back home, and yet, there was still that light of mischief in the glint of their eye, beneath the exhaustion.
"What happened to you?" Jayce found himself asking, the words slipping out before he could fully register them.
They huffed out a laugh. As if his concern was amusing. “I could ask you the same thing, Love." They return easily, eyes dropping back to his broken leg. "You look like you've been through the ringer." 
There was a deep, heavy sadness to their voice. A grief that startled Jayce.
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Jayce and his unlikely Companion swiftly realised that he couldn’t move very far with his leg busted up; not with any dignity at least. But between them, they managed to find the driest corner of the ravine to rest in. Jayce dragged himself over on his three working limbs, whilst his Companion disappeared into the gloom in search of something burnable to begin a fire.
They returned soon after, a dead lizard hanging by its tail in one hand, and a handful of plants and twigs in the other.
“It’ll smoke something awful,” they explained to Jayce as they sank down to their knees opposite him and began constructing a feeble campfire between them. “But it’ll burn.”
With quiet efficiency, they set to getting the fire going, hands practiced and certain, where in another life, they only knew how to hold a pencil. Jayce fondly remembered having to teach that version how to turn on the oven in the lab’s kitchenette. And here they were, starting sensible fires and skinning rainbow lizards in preparation for cooking. 
He was not even entirely sure where they had been keeping the knife, having not noticed it on their person earlier, and was even more surprised when it turned out that they knew how to use it. 
“How long has the world been like this?” Jayce found himself asking, hoping that a conversation would help take his mind off his still very broken leg.
The smooth slicing of the knife blade through scales halted as their eyes flickered up to him. Their eyebrows drew together in thought, causing the runes across their forehead to distort. “Hard to say.” They told him evenly, their expression weirdly unreadable. “The years began to blend together after a time.” Which wasn’t really much of an answer. 
The conversation trailed off as quickly as it had begun, and before he knew it, Jayce was smelling the lizard beginning to cook, and had blinked, only to realise that his Companion had at some point risen from their spot on the opposite side of the fire. He snapped his head round, only to find them reemerging from the gloom again, their knife cleaned and dripping with water, whilst their sleeves were visibly wet. At least neither of them would be dying from dehydration any time soon.
“We need to set your leg.” His Companion said by way of greeting, and Jayce grimaced, and sat up a little straighter.
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The fever crept in quicker than Jayce had anticipated it would.
It wasn’t really much of a surprise, considering the injury, and the environment in which he had been injured in. But he and his Companion had tried their best to fend it off with what they had. 
Jayce tried to keep himself warm the first night by curling up as close to the fire as he could get without setting himself alight. He kept from worsening the injury by moving around with his other limbs, and upon his Companion’s firm insistence, remaining by the fire.
Wordlessly, they took it upon themselves to keep the flames stoked with burnable things. And disappeared off into the gloom beyond the light whenever Jayce’s stomach rumbled with hunger. They returned without fail, having caught some small, weird creature to cook for him. 
Vaguely, as the fever pressed in, Jayce noticed how they rarely ate anything they brought him unless prompted. He was not certain if it was because of the runes, or simply because they wanted him at full strength, but he had to practically force food into their hands. And then refuse to eat his own portion unless they ate with him. It never failed to put an exasperated smile on their face, which in turn filled Jayce with a little flicker of warmth. 
They were worried about him, he could tell. Could see it in the way they helped him clean and wrap his leg. Could see it in the careful way they handled the limb, eyes raking over the corrupted infection beginning to eat its way through his skin. Thick strings of sickly green and unnatural blue clung to the damp cloth they used to wipe the wound clean, to which they grimaced and Jayce simply tried not to look.
Instead, he occupied himself by theorising ways to get out of the ravine. His Companion even found him a stone with which to use the walls as a makeshift chalkboard. They kept the fire stoked, whilst Jayce theorised and scribbled all over the rock faces. Mapping out runes and scribbling down equations. Scrambling to find any possible way he could return home. 
The entire time, they withheld any suggestions that might have helped him figure out a way to help them both escape their current prison. Offering quiet hums or simply shaking their head when he tried to rope them into the conversation. 
At first, he found the avoidance weirdly endearing. An echo of late nights spent at the chalkboard with Viktor by his side as they tried to figure out an equation, whilst Y/n lingered by their desk, carefully sketching out the newest illustration for an assignment. Back then, both he and Viktor had tried to rope the Illustrator into their brainstorming, only to get unsatisfying hums in response, or the blank stare of someone who had not been paying attention.
But now, their lack of assistance quickly began to weigh on him, and Jayce at one point demanded at the height of his desperate attempts, for them to help him.
To which they had glanced up from the fire, regret swimming behind their eyes as they replied with obscure things like, “he’s testing you,” and “he won’t allow me to remain here if I make this too easy for you.”
The repetitive reference to some mysterious ‘him’ had been another piece of the puzzle that Jayce hadn’t been able to crack. They seemed to always be referring to some nameless ‘him’ with a tone of annoyance and sometimes hostility, but had failed to ever actually name ‘him’. Instead muttering about how if ‘he’ wanted Jayce to know ‘him’ yet, then ‘he’ would have already shown ‘himself.’
Jayce’s fever swept him under with a determination and intensity that left his mind scattered and foggy before he could truly get to the bottom of that one. 
In seemingly random intervals, Jayce burned. And then he froze. He would sweat, and he would shiver. And all the while, his leg festered. No amount of cleaning or rebandaging the wound with new, dirty pieces from either of their clothes would sooth the fire burning through his veins. 
With the constant presence of the pain, his paranoia seethed. He found his feverish gaze constantly flickering up to the top of the ravine, always expecting the humanoid forms of those machines to be peering back down at him.
Sometimes, he would snap awake from a nightmare and forget where he was. He would come to and see a figure sat on the other side of the low burning fire, and he would foggily register the seven glowing eyes and immediately sink into a blind panic. He would fumble for his hammer out of instinct, and then later be eternally grateful that it was always out of his reach. 
His Companion would startle in the face of his terror, only to flare their runes brightly with a wince to banish the darkness for him. Their face would come into focus, and Jayce would find himself relaxing every time. Regardless of the changes in their appearance from the familiar face he knew, Jayce still found comfort from just looking at them.
Once he had stopped panicking, they would then dull the lights back down to their usual glow before shuffling forward. They would call him ‘Love’ in that achingly gentle voice, and offer him grounding touches to further soothe him. And Jayce was so desperate for a kind hand that he melted into it every time. 
Panting from the dream, and still clammy and shaking, his body would automatically surrender to their concern, as they pressed cool rags to his burning forehead, and allowed him to lay his spinning head down in their lap, their fingers gently raking through his messy locks. He was in desperate need of a haircut, but wasn’t yet desperate enough to trust them to take a knife to it.
Once or twice, whilst he was dozing in their lap, he would come to, to the sound of them talking - snarling - at someone Jayce could not see. 
“I cannot fight this infection on my own.” He heard them grumble, their fingers still in his hair, massaging away the lingering headache with firm, soothing rolls of their fingertips along tense muscles.
There would always only be silence and the drip of water in response.
“If he dies again, you know I’ll never forgive you. Right?” They threatened the air, to which more silence would allow the words to fade into nothing. Unacknowledged. 
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The only full-proof way to keep track of the days was to listen to the prickle of the temperature dropping. When night fell on the surface, Jayce could see his breath fogging in front of his face. The stone he sat on would begin to leech his warmth from his skin, and the warmth of the fire would begin to fail to reach him, regardless of how well stocked it was.
When those hours hit, his Companion would wordlessly sidle up to his side and huddle closer to him, offering a solid line of warmth along one side of his body. And Jayce, like the weak man he was, would curl into the offered comfort, like a cat luxuriating in a sunny spot.
Wordlessly, he would wind an arm around their back to draw them close, and in return, they would lay their head back on his shoulder, and curl their fingers tightly into his ruined jacket. Tucking their knees up close to their chest, they would lean into him, and in return Jayce would lean his head down against their hair.
Between bouts of fading fever, Jayce would flit between slumber and staring into the fire, whilst his Companion kept him warm. They remained stiff at his side for hours, shifting and shuffling whilst Jayce tried to recover.
Only rarely did he notice them actually falling asleep. But when they did, they went limp against his side. Dropping down hard into slumber. 
Their head would become heavy on his broad shoulder, but those fingers would never completely untangle from his coat, as if they subconsciously feared him slipping away whilst they rested. 
They seemed to completely trust Jayce when they were at their most vulnerable. And in this small way, Jayce was able to repay them for their kindness. For their willingness to help him, even if it meant clambering down into a freezing cold ravine with no real hope of being able to climb back out again.
It was in situations like this, that sometimes their rune riddled forehead would lightly rest against the exposed skin of Jayce’s throat. And sometimes, whilst he was still glaring into the flames of the fire, the magic residing within would offer glimpses of events that Jayce had never experienced.
The latest of which, he saw snapshots of the lab back home. Of it, as it was after Viktor woke up from his coma and broke out of his Hexcore-made chrysalis. He vaguely caught sight of the structure itself, the imprint left behind by Viktor’s body still darkening the centre of it, before the dream steered his focus to a desk.
He watched through someone else’s eyes as frantic hands slammed down a pile of notebooks. He recognised his own handwriting, alongside Viktor’s as the hands tore open the notebooks, flipping frantically through the pages until they came across the rune indexes in each. 
A pointer finger slid along carefully copied rune illustrations, drawn by the lab’s Illustrator, whilst Viktor of Jayce’s handwriting beneath accurately named the symbol and explained each of their hypothetical uses.
“Warding.” The body’s voice muttered aloud. “Protection. Exceleration. Shielding. Fuck. Fuck! Speed- oh, yes! Repel! Okay, okay, Repel. Warding might be useful. Probably can’t go wrong with Protection either. Shit. Fuck. Pen. Pen!”
He felt the weight of the marker pen in his dominant hand, and startled at the sight of someone else’s terrified face staring back at him in the reflection of a small, hand-held mirror. He felt the cold ink from the pen spreading across his forehead, as the body began to hurriedly scribble runes across it. 
In the back of his mind, Jayce felt dread bubbling. 
He was coming.
Jayce had no idea who ‘He’ was, but the terror crawling up the back of his throat felt like an instinct. As if what was to come was inevitable. Inescapable. Somehow, he knew that there was no way to calm the pounding of this body’s heart or soothe their frantic breathing or racing mind. There was only desperation, and the terror of a lone person clawing at a chance of survival until their fingernails cracked and bled. 
He blinked, and for a moment, he was back in the cave glaring into the fire. The deep seated terror closing his airways lingered, and then he blinked once more and was thrust back into the lab. 
The body he was in flinched hard as the lab doors behind him were slammed open. He heard the familiar gait of his partner’s footsteps, and knew in his soul that the ‘he’ who had come, was Viktor. And that the metallic after note of each step, was a byproduct of the man’s new body. 
Jayce felt sweat break out on his forehead as his eyes darted from Viktor’s approaching form in the mirror, to the useless ink marks standing out on his forehead. His stomach twisted into knots, although Jayce did not yet know why. This was Viktor after all. His Viktor. 
Jayce felt his body outside of the runes’ influence shiver when Viktor finally spoke. His accent was heavily woven between his vowels as he called out a low greeting, an unnatural, unsettling undertone altering his voice ever so slightly. If Jayce did not know the man as intimately as he did, he would never have noticed the difference. 
In the dream - no, the memory - the body that Jayce was hijacking, turned to meet Viktor as he rounded the Hexcore-made frame and approached the desk. Dressed in a navy robe artfully wound around his unnatural limbs, the man kept his footsteps slow and terrifying. His eyes shone with the light of the Arcane as he tilted his head alluringly. The staff he walked with tapped rhythmically with every step. The ticking of a bomb countdown.
"Join me." He coaxed sweetly, a mockery of the sweet words he used to utter when inviting one or both of his lovers into bed after a long day spent in the lab. A smile tugged at his thin lips, too tight to truly be a warm one.
The body Jayce was in firmly declined his offer. Shaking their head and clinging to their pen as if it would be a suitable weapon against the man cornering them. 
Viktor frowned. “You are certain of this?” He asked.
“Yes.” Viktor frowned. “I am sorry to hear that.” He said, like a warning. Jayce’s eyes darted down to the man’s hand, to his palm which had begun to subtly glow. The body he was in lurched, as if to run, but Viktor was faster. His hand shot out, like a snake’s unhinging jaw, and all five of his fingertips touched the body’s forehead. 
Jayce felt frozen, forced into submission, as he felt the magic flow out of Viktor and dig into his mind. His thoughts. Probing. Trying to force a connection.
Only to run into a wall. Abruptly, the useless runes etched across his skin ignited with a cutting, siring warmth, forcefully converting Viktor’s magic into a power source. It pushed back sharply against him, and Viktor recoiled with a shout, ripping his hand away.
There is a weird, iridescent light in Jayce's peripheral vision, as Viktor's form stumbled back, his once glowing hand grasping hard onto the edge of the desk to keep his footing.
Jayce's head snapped down, and his eyes connected with the little mirror on the desk, and he realised with a start that the simple pen marks had sunk down under his skin; having carved a permanent presence into the flesh.
"You- you shut me out." Viktor whispered, his voice oozing with hurt.
The words that shot forth from Jayce's mouth were not his own, as anger and betrayal coated them thickly. "You tried to erase me!" The body he was in snarled, "you wanted to turn me into one of your mindless puppets!"
"Not erase, no! I would never erase you!" Viktor tried to reassure, looking horrified at the mere suggestion. "I just wanted to help you see-" but the dream slipped away before Jayce could be convinced.
The head resting on his shoulder abruptly snapped upwards, severing the connection, and forcing Jayce back into the cave. The echoes of what he had just witnessed followed him back to the smell of damp, and the crackle of the fire. 
The warmth at his side retreated as his Companion sat up and pulled away from him. They were breathing hard, hands shaking as shrunken pupils stared unseeingly ahead. Air sawed in and out of their mouth at a rapidly accelerating pace. The runes on their forehead burned with light. The beams they gave off were so strong, that they shone dancing iridescent light across the opposite cave wall.
Stomach sinking, Jayce carefully reached across the gap between them to lightly touch their shoulder. They flinched away from him; hard. Their hand instinctively scrambled for their boot where he now knew they kept their knife. 
“Hey.” Jayce tried to soothe, his voice too loud amongst the popping of the flames and their quiet, desperate breaths. “You’re not in the lab anymore. You’re in the ravine. Remember? With Jayce?”
They blinked, and their eyes suddenly came into focus, their pupils widening rapidly before shrinking back to their usual size.
Jayce remained frozen where he was, his hand still raised, and his expression open and understanding.
“Jayce.” They repeated quietly in a long breath, rolling the name over their tongue. The tension bled from their shoulders with the exhale, as their hand slid back out of their boot to instead flop onto the stone beside their thigh. 
“Yeah. Jayce.” He repeated, carefully shuffling closer without jostling his bad leg. “Can I touch you?” His hand still hovered, but he did not touch them yet. His partner was not like him in that regard. Where he was the type to throw himself into a hug and allow his mind to catch up later, they seemed to respond better to grounding themselves in their surroundings before searching for comfort. 
“Please.” They whispered quietly, barely loud enough for Jayce to hear. But he did. And he was ready for them when they slid closer to him and sank into his waiting arms. He wrapped them tightly up in his grip, hating how they felt so small compared to the person he knew. Not fragile, mind you, but smaller as if meals were scarce, which they might well be considering the kind of world they lived in.
Scrambling to pull his mind away from the bleak thought, he rubbed their back and said tightly, “that was some dream.” 
They went stiff in his arms, and then pulled back, expression searching. Jayce tried to keep a hold of his easy going smile, but the way their face shuttered with realisation told him he was failing. “Wait. You saw that?”
Sheepishly, he nodded, to which they groaned and sunk back down to hide under his chin. 
He could feel his stubble catching on their hair as they went, and mentally mourned his clean shave. The first thing he was doing when he got home was locking himself away to deal with all this unnecessary hair.
“It wasn’t a dream.” His Companion quietly admitted into the front of Jayce’s shirt.
To which he simply continued to run his hand up and down their back. As steady and comforting as he could manage. “Oh?”
“It was a memory.”
Jayce’s hand fell still as their breath stuttered. “Viktor?” Jayce said aloud, feeling the way his Companion tensed at the softly uttered name. “Viktor did this to you? The runes?”
They did not correct him, and Jayce’s stomach sank. “But that isn’t like Viktor at all. That man looked like him but he wasn’t Viktor.” Jayce tried to argue. 
“I’m not lying.” They tried to argue, beginning to push against Jayce’s chest in retaliation. “I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” They repeated with more conviction. 
“I’m not saying you are.” Jayce tried to soothe, loosening his grip so they could pull back, but not entirely letting go. “But what you’re saying doesn’t line up with what I know about my Viktor. Maybe yours is different?”
Their expression turned pained, and those eyes flickered away. “Maybe.” They said neutrally, and Jayce felt his heart clench.
“What? What did I say wrong?” He asked automatically, but they were already trying to pull away again. And this time he let them go. 
They rose on silent feet and rounded the fire. Movements fluid with a bite to their step that just further confirmed what Jayce had feared. He had offended them. Somewhere along the conversation, he had put his foot on something fragile, and they had raised their hackles to scare him off.
Absently, he wondered if they would turn tail into the darkness and leave him alone here as punishment.
“He wasn’t in his right mind when he tried to do it.” Their voice argued, as they pointedly reached a stretch of flat stone directly opposite Jayce on the other side of the fire, before sitting down heavily. Something tight in Jayce’s chest loosened at the middle ground. A silent ask for distance without outright abandoning him. “And when he was like that, no, didn’t seem to be a word he understood.”
“I believe you.” Jayce easily agreed to which they hummed, and turned their attention down to the flames.
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Come morning, they seemed to have forgiven him for whatever his misstep was.
“We need to refresh the bandages.” They said by way of explanation, before rounding the smouldering fire to offer Jayce a hand up. 
With a lot of grunting and readjusting, they managed to loop an arm around his waist, whilst Jayce slung his own over their shoulders. They quietly cursed as he used them as a glorified crutch to hobble over to the water pool a little ways back from their camp. 
It was a glorified puddle rather than an actual pond, with a tiny stream feeding into it from a smaller pocket of water higher up in the far wall. 
He was lowered down with care, his bad leg stretched out in front of him. His Companion dropped into a crouch at his side, their runes flaring once more with a poorly concealed wince, before they leant over his leg. With steady hands, they carefully began to unwind the strip of their shirt that had previously been the bandage. Strings of green goo clung to the underside of the fabric when they pulled it back, causing Jayce to wince and turn his head away.
“Well, it’s not worse.” His Companion helpfully informed him, to which Jayce let out a tense laugh.
“So we don’t need to cut it off yet, Doc?”
They hummed thoughtfully, tossing the soiled rag aside, before sliding their knife from their boot to begin cutting a fresh strip off. “Not yet. The infection is remaining close to the entry wound. If it gets into your blood, then we’ll talk about hacking off your leg with my butter knife.” “Gods, that is a horrible image.” “Then don’t imagine it.” They dryly informed him. Jayce watched them with a fond little tug at his lips, so engrossed by their chatter that he almost didn’t notice the weight of eyes on him.
Almost.
The hairs along the nape of his neck began to rise, as goosebumps prickled beneath his sleeves. Tensing, Jayce instinctively glanced up, his fever dreams of the dolls silhouettes staring back down at him making his heart leap. But of course, there was nothing there. Aside from his current company, nothing had followed him down into the ravine.
Then he saw a flash of dull white standing out against the gloom on the opposite side of the lake, and his mouth went dry. Eyes widening, his eyes fell on a figure shrouded in a simple cloak, grasping a staff. The same hooded figure he had followed to the city from the wilds. The figure that resembled the Mage from his childhood. 
The sound of fabric being sliced through, abruptly cut off.
"Oi!" 
Jayce jumped at the almighty bellow that punched its way out of the person beside him. 
Unbothered, the figure across the lake slowly turned their hooded head towards Jayce’s Companion. 
"Fuck off!" They spat venomously. 
The figure did not move. 
Jayce blinked, and the other side of the water was suddenly empty. 
They huffed out an angry breath. "Nosy bastard." They muttered sharply, tucking the knife away before bending forward to wet the cloth. "Keeping fucking tabs on me."
“Wh-who was that?” They huffed. “Already told you, ‘he’ll’ introduce him when ‘he’ deems it time, the prick.” 
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Jayce needed his mobility back. 
He needed out of this ravine, and he could not do so on a leg that threatened to rebreak itself every time he put his weight on it.
He had mapped out every equation. Had brainstormed every possible scenario. And the answer he had reached, was the same way he had ended up here. He needed to be able to climb out. But to do that, he needed a brace for his leg. The materials of which, he decided he would simply take from his hammer. Simple. He had created more complicated things with worse materials before. 
It just so happened that his Companion had wandered off to mutter to themselves again when he began, so they returned to find his leg mostly encased in various pieces of metal with torn off strips of his shirt barely holding it all together, whilst the remainder of the hammer lay scattered around him in parts.
“What’ve you got on the go here?” “What will hopefully become a mobility aid.” Jayce replied simply, torn between watching them sink into a crouch at his side, and tightening the latest fabric strip.
“Ah, like Viktor’s leg brace.” They mused, making Jayce’s hands falter. Outside of the weird memories, that was the first time they’d mentioned Viktor by name in front of him. It made his stomach sink to think why that was. 
“Hold this steady for me.” He instructed instead of dwelling on the thought.
They raised their brows and tried to back out. “You know I do not have the hands of a mechanic.” They tried to dissuade him, to which Jayce simply pushed the metal pieces into their limp hands. They grasped them obediently, but continued to be weary as Jayce turned his attention to his ankle. “If you handed me a pen however.” They trailed the sentence off into a tight laugh that led nowhere. “Gods, I never thought I’d miss pens of all things. Or paper.” Jayce frowned. “Do you not draw anymore?” “Not as much as I would like to.” They replied, “the spark kind of died when everyone else did. And the world has lost its colour.” And beat of silence, to which they promptly added, “which you saw a few days ago, of course. There literally feels like there’s no colour anymore, which of course is half of the fun when you’re drawing. Besides, my sketchbook did not survive the test of time.” They rambled before promptly adding, “I have charcoal at least. Keeps my hands busy.” Closely followed by yet another beat of uncomfortable silence.
Jayce had nodded along through the whole ramble, having had more than enough practice in doing so back in the lab. As he listened, he finished off binding his ankle into place, before he gave his knee an experimental roll to see if the knee joint was aligned. It clicked along the gear joints but seemed to be holding.
The soft click of metal had drawn their attention back to the present, and they quietly muttered, “I forget how smart you are sometimes.” That startled a flush onto Jayce’s cheeks and his eyes into looking up at them, and oh, oh no. The grief was back in their face. 
“Book smart.” They quickly added. “Just to clarify. No offence, Love, but street smarts were never truly one of your strengths.” Jayce let a small smile cross his face at the words. They brought back fond memories of venturing into Zaun with Viktor to haggle for machine parts, only to end up getting charged three times the actual price. He had never really mastered that particular skill, and had simply relied on Viktor’s common sense to see him through.
His Companion cleared their throat when he did not immediately respond, and slowly withdrew their hands from the metal parts they’d been holding in place. They held together beautifully, much to Jayce’s relief.
“Do you need anything from the surface?” They asked, eyes flickering up and down the brace. “It would take a day or two to hunt down tools not fully corrupted, but I’m sure I could find something?” 
Jayce frowned back at them. Genuinely at a loss for words. 
“What?” They asked, glancing over their shoulder as if the hooded figure was back.
“You- you could have left this entire time?”
They narrowed their eyes at him. “Yes?” 
“But you didn’t?” “Of course not.” “Why?” Jayce demanded with more conviction and surprise than he had anticipated feeling on the subject. “Why would you waste days down here? With me?” They huffed and rolled their eyes at him as if he were the one being unreasonable. “Because you don’t do well in the cold, Jayce.” They told him simply. 
And Jayce couldn’t help but think of the fire that they had kept constantly burning. Of the nights spent huddled up together. The countless times he had woken up shivering, panic bitter on the back of his tongue, only for warm hands to soothe him back into slumber. Effortlessly banishing dreams of snow and mages, beneath rune infused memories of the lab and all the chaos he used to get up to with his partners, back before everything went so horribly wrong.
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Within the hour, they began the long climb out. 
The brace held, and Jayce couldn’t help but take that as a win, despite the loss of his weapon.
True to their word, his Companion did in fact navigate the climb up easily. As agile as they had been when clambering down to assist him that very first day. They were attentive, whilst showing him the easiest footholds to use. Constantly glancing back down at him, as Jayce huffed and puffed and struggled to put one hand above the other. 
The long days spent resting had zapped his stamina. Whilst his bound leg offered constant protests to his every move. But Jayce forced himself to persist.
“Come on, Love.” His Companion encouraged for what felt like the hundredth time, having found a ledge wide enough to take a rest break on. They had already leaned over the edge to offer him their hand. “We will catch our breath here for a moment.” “I can keep going.” Jayce tried to insist as they caught his wrist and began hauling him up. He pushed with his good leg, his unoccupied hand grasping firmly onto the lip of the ledge. “I do not doubt that,” they reassured him as his knee hit the rock, and he was guided away from the drop. “But it will be a more pleasant climb if it is not out of desperation. We have time.”
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Jayce’s good leg slipped as a foothold caved under his weight. He cried out. Nails digging into the rock as he body lurched dangerously. 
Above, there was a flurry of movement. The blur of glowing runes leaving trails of light as their owner slid back down the rockface to grab him before he tumbled back down into the darkness.
They grunted from his additional weight, fingers like a shackle around his wrist. Keeping him from slipping further. Jayce somehow knew they wouldn’t let him fall. Even if it were out of sheer stubbornness rather than available strength.
“Love.” They strained, and Jayce shook his head as he scrambled for new handholds and somewhere to put his dangling foot. “I am NOT spending any more days down there.” They informed him firmly. “We’re so close. Come on, one last push!”
And they were. Jayce could actually see a sliver of sunlight along one of the cracks. Could smell fresh rain, alongside the damp of the stone. The sound of raindrops felt like music to his ears. A fresh melody after the maddening tempo of dripping stalactites.
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The pair climbed out of the ravine, and then continued upwards. 
The mechanical dolls had already begun to shift and turn their heads towards him, as Jayce panted and scrambled to find his legs. Only for the machines to promptly fall still as Jayce’s hand was promptly snatched up and tightly intertwined with that of his Companion. The touch sending a sharp but pleasant tingle down his arm.
“They will not be able to sense you, so long as you hold onto me.” “A byproduct of the runes?”
They nodded, and then began dragging him through the crowd, following Jayce’s original path. How they knew what direction he planned to head in, he was not certain, but the warmth of their hand in his helped him to think past it.
Together, they climbed and scaled and clawed their way up to the only part of the world seemingly untouched by the bleakness of the corruption. A stretch of greenery that spanned across the top of the Hexgate dome, cracked and fractured but no less beautiful. At the far edge of a platform, knelt a lone figure clutching what at first glance, looked to be a long stick. Head bowed as if in prayer.
The warmth of the hand in his abruptly slipped away as Jayce’s Companion let out a soft sigh and began making their way towards the figure. The surety in their step spoke of time spent in this patch of sunlight before. A thought given evidence when they approached the statue and greeted it like a slumbering sweetheart.
“Good Morning, my Love.” They whispered, voice swimming with warmth and fondness. Jayce followed half a step behind, watching with a frown as they leaned down to press a light kiss to the temple of the statue. They withdrew just as quickly, trailing tender fingers down the figure’s marble cheek, to its shoulder, before trailing light fingertips around its back. The plants growing out of its back bent easily to their touch, before seeming to bloom and reach back.
It was an odd sight to behold. Plants did not act like that when disturbed, or at least they shouldn’t. But then again, this dimension was full of mechanical dolls instead of citizens. And Jayce currently stood before a person who wore his lover’s face. So, putting everything else into perspective, the plants seeming to arch into a gentle touch, wasn’t all that strange of a sight.
“Who was he?” Jayce found himself asking, eyes sliding back to the face of the bowing figure. To the metal flecked hands wound around the handle of what Jayce realised with a sickening drop of his stomach, was a perfect replica of his hammer. As it was after being corrupted from the ravine; warped and uneven.
His Companion smiled sadly at his question. “Look closer, Jayce.”
His eyes flickered up to their calm expression, and then back down to the statue. To the echoes of a face almost entirely erased beneath the white marble. To the tiny garden of plants thriving within the broken crown of its skull.
It was the first mechanical being Jayce had seen so far, that still clung onto its past identity. Its facial features have not entirely been erased or consumed by gleaming gold or purifying white.
With a tired groan, he lowered himself down to his knees, his bad leg throbbing from the angle change. 
It turned out that kneeling down, had him at the perfect height to stare straight ahead into the statue’s blank, half-opened eyes, the suggestion of lax pupils and irises staring back at him. His gaze trailed up, to the arch of a brow before sliding in towards the inner eye and down the slope of a nose. A nose Jayce had spent a lifetime scrutinising in the mirror-
In his peripheral vision, a flash of blinding white had Jayce’s head snapping away from studying the statue. 
As before, his Companion stood over the statue’s shoulder like some imitation of a solemn angel, but it wasn’t them that had Jayce’s body startling. 
It was the ominously hooded figure looming just behind them. Under the weight of his gaze, that hooded head turned towards Jayce. Stood so still and silently, the Mage oozed power. The very galaxies appeared to have been caught in the shadow of their hood. Whereas tendrils of the arcane had sunk into the fibres of their hooded cloak, bleaching bursts of pink and blue in arching webs across the fabric.
The spell was abruptly shattered, when Jayce’s Companion suddenly rounded on the hooded figure, hands clenched into fists at their sides. “You know,” they sharply lectured, back straight as the robed figure jumped. “Normally, people say, hi, instead of just appearing soundlessly!”
The hooded figure seemed to fumble for a response. Head snapping to them as if the Mage had not been expecting his Companion to address him at all. Undeterred, Jayce watched as their shoulders remained tense as they pointedly looked the Mage up and down. “And what the hell are you wearing?” Jayce winced at the venom in those words. 
The Mage’s shoulders slumped dramatically, before they motioned theatrically to Jayce, which just earned them a humourless huff.
“Really? You’re trying not to scare him?” They dryly asked, making Jayce question how they had managed to get all of that from a simple look and gesture. “Well, you could’ve fooled me.”
The Mage sighed tiredly, fingers tightening around their staff. “Y/n, please.” They huffed, and the familiarity of that accented voice sent a pang of intense longing through Jayce. So much so that his stomach physically twisted at the pleading undertone to those raw words.
“...Viktor?”
Both dimensional variations of Jayce’s lovers stiffened at his quiet question.
“Uh, Jayce, I-” The Mage looked at his Companion for support, his hood obscuring his features, but somehow his exasperation shone through just as well. 
To their credit, his Companion just shrugged. “It’s not my fault you changed everything but your voice.”
The Mage huffed audibly. “Well if you hadn’t been here to mess up my introduction, then we wouldn’t be having this problem.”
Jayce watched as Y/n’s shoulders bunched, their knuckles tightening as they opened their mouth to snap back, but thankfully Jayce was the first to speak.
“Look!” He said loudly, startling both of them into holding their tongues. “I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know why I’m in the city, or why you’ve both guided me up here. So will someone please start explaining?”
His questions earned him another exchange of looks from the pair. A tense shake of the head from one, and a shrug from the other. 
Jayce did not like the heavy tension drawing tight between the two. The worst disagreement he’d ever witnessed between his Viktor and Y/n had been a ten minute back and forth where Y/n had misplaced one of Viktor’s notebooks and he had blown up at them for it. The notebook - thankfully - had been found mere moments later, but the fight had been terrifying for Jayce to witness all the same.
Clearly, whatever had fractured the bond here and left the two of them snapping at one another, had been far more significant than a simple misplaced notebook. And something told Jayce that the figure currently knelt before them was the main cause of it.
With a sigh, the Mage with Viktor’s voice stepped forward and tilted his head up just so. The sunlight finally penetrated the starry darkness collected beneath his hood, gently curling over his cheek and breathing warmth into his magically iridescent eyes. Jayce’s breath got stuck in his throat at the sight those familiar eyes turned soft with an untold emotion, of facial hair and clear signs of age on Viktor’s face. 
It was then that the Mage finally began to explain.
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"Send him back." 
Stood a little ways back from the pair of them, Y/n had their arms wrapped tightly around themself as they flicked their frosty expression over to a tense Viktor. When the Mage looked back at them, their jaw tightened and they raised their chin. Preparing for a fight. 
“It is only fair." They added.
"I was always going to." Viktor snapped back, just as sharply.
To which Jayce couldn’t fully conceal his wince. He had scarcely been in their collective presence for more than half an hour, and it had taken every molecule of councilor decorum to keep from sitting the both of them down for a much needed conversation. Whenever the Mage wasn’t looking, Y/n kept shooting him sad, uncomfortable looks, as if they wanted to add their input, but couldn’t quite find the right words. Whereas, Viktor had just seemed to keep his expression smooth and his head constantly turned away from the human. And it was honestly painful to watch.
Despite their differences, they were both so clearly similar to the people Jayce knew and loved that he almost didn’t want to leave them here with the petrified version of himself for silent company. But unfortunately, with a world to save, and his actual partners to track down, he was already stretched pretty thin.
So when the Mage turned back to Jayce, a silent question in his eyes, Jayce hardened his eyes, clutched his borrowed hammer tighter and firmly told him to send him back.
Viktor had complied readily. A hand emerged from the folds of his cloak, the fingers tattooed with blue runes and elegantly spaced lines encircling his fingertips. The runes on his knuckles began to glow, his hand raising in front of him to focus his magic towards Jayce.
Y/n shifted away from him as the tattoos along his arm began to light up as well. Their mouth was drawn into a tight line as they crossed their arms. Jayce caught a glimpse of the hesitance in their eyes. Noticed the way their own runes dimmed when sitting in direct comparison to the magic Viktor wielded with ease.
The sight had a stray thought slamming into Jayce, as his mind jumped to a dream shared in the darkness of the ravine. The panic the memory had brought on, and the stilted answers he’d failed to pull from them. The unease that settled low in his belly was unbalancing enough for him to throw out a panicked, “wait!”
Both Mage and human startled at his sudden declaration. The hand of the former freezing mid-cast, causing the swirling sphere of light that had begun to flash around Jayce to still. Whereas the latter took several concerned steps forward, a question already on their lips.
“Y/n, do not get too close.” Viktor warned evenly, to which they shot him a sharp look.
Before the pair could dissolve into another sharp spat, Jayce licked his lips and caught the human’s attention. “Your runes,” he said desperately, “can you give me the combination so I can help my Y/n?”
Their expression eased at his words, as it often did when they were about to call him ‘Love’. Only this time, the look was tinged with regret as they began to shake their head.
Jayce’s stomach dropped.
“I could,” they told him carefully, “but it would not help you.”
“What do you mean?” Jayce demanded, feeling a sharp stab of panic rip through him.
The human and Mage exchanged another tense look. Viktor inclined his head. Whether granting permission or offering them the choice to answer, Jayce was not entirely sure.
Y/n took another small step towards him, keeping him from picking the action apart for too long. "You see, that interaction between them and The Herald happens whilst you're stuck in this universe. By the time we send you back, you won’t be able to do anything, correct runes or not. It is down to them and luck if they manage to find the correct combination to remain separate from the hivemind."
"So there is nothing I can do?"
The Mage shook his head, and offered his own input. "Sometimes they are lucky. But in most timelines, they fall to The Herald like everyone else he attempts to cure."
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Jayce was gone. Again. Returned to his own dimension to hopefully have a better chance at a happy ending than this world had.
The light had scarcely dissipated from Viktor’s fingertips, before his lover was turning to him with a sharp look in their eye. “Drop the illusion.” They ordered him flippantly, eyes flicking across his robe and bearded face. 
Viktor almost smiled back, almost teased that the form had grown on him, but he could tell from the way they held themselves that their patience was thin today. 
So instead, he allowed his form to flicker, and then change. His white robe shrunk and stretched to become his typical two tailed cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Whilst the galaxy previously trapped beneath the fabric stretched out to cover his skin, which began to erode and return to its unique combination of metal and tendons. Between one blink and the next, his face split and his mask unfolded over his slumbering expression like a mushroom cap emerging from the stem.
“Better?” He asked humorlessly, glancing down at his Lover, who was now significantly shorter than him. They did not flinch away at his distorted voice in this newer, taller, stronger form. It had been so long since the end of everything, that now, they barely seemed to acknowledge the difference between his forms. And he had not sensed fear in the air when they looked upon him like this for years. A small mercy. 
They looked him up and down judgmentally, before shrugging. “Sure.” They said impassively, “whatever helps you sleep at night.” Viktor decided with great self-preservation to not remind them that he did not in fact sleep anymore. Which of course earned him another light jab.
“You couldn’t even grow a beard in that body,” his Lover commented absently, “so why did you give yourself one this time?” “I thought it would look dashing.” He replied simply. “Do you not agree?”
They rolled their eyes with a ghost of fondness in their face. “You forgot the mole under your right eye this time.”
“Oh. Then I am lucky Jayce did not notice.” Viktor relented easily. After so long, the details of that original body had begun to evade him after all. Sometimes it was the eye colour infused with the power of the Hexcore that he forgot. Other times it was the shade of his hair, or the exact length of his nose. Tiny, meaningless things that his Lover seemed to notice every time regardless.
“Speaking of Jayce,” Viktor began slowly, “you spoke to this one.”
“He was injured.” They returned sharply, avoiding his gaze. “He could have died down there.” “I would not have let him.” “And how was I to know that?” They demanded. “Our paths have not crossed outside of this ritual for decades, Viktor. We have not spoken properly since you destroyed everything.” “Because you hid from me. I could not find you. I tried to find you.” They swallowed audibly. “I had nothing to say to you.”
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The usual routine of the world fell back into step the following dawn.
Viktor waited on the dome of the Hexgates to watch the sunrise with Jayce’s statue, as the pair waited for their human Companion to find them. The Mage was not entirely sure where they went when they were not visiting Jayce and pointedly ignoring him, nor could he really find out on his own thanks to those blasted runes, but it was enough that they turned up at all.
There was no dimensional traveller to guide today, so they turned up an hour later than usual. Freshly washed and dressed in clean attire after so many days spent down in the cave tending to the latest Jayce in the depths of Zaun. It would have been a sweet thought if Viktor hadn’t been tearing the world apart trying to locate the both of them.
But they were fine. And they were here now, crossing Jayce’s blooming resting place to drop a kiss to the statue’s cold forehead and sink to their knees before him. From his spot on the grass a short distance away, Viktor watched with quietly amused eyes as they pulled a stick of charcoal out of their pocket and began carefully drawing out a series of runes across Jayce’s forehead.
It was a daily tradition by now, for them to do so. And for Viktor to watch them try for hours on end. They had grown so familiar with the runes, that they no longer needed to consult a notebook or Viktor’s extensive knowledge to accurately draw the symbols out. 
He had tried fruitlessly in the beginning to dissuade them from wasting their time. After all, what Viktor had done to their lover was permanent, and could not be reversed. To which they had turned on him with a burning fury and not so kindly told him to stick his pessimism back up his ‘cosmic ass’.
So Viktor had stopped offering his input. And they had stopped talking to him unless absolutely necessary. They carefully drew out the rune combinations, and Viktor lingered nearby. Quietly watching and regretting everything that had the three of them to where they were now.
What he hated the most however, were the runes on his human love’s forehead, which prevented him from offering so much as a glimpse into his thoughts. That kept him from honestly showing them just how remorseful he was. From showing them just how many times he had tried to reverse his mistake. How many times he had tried and failed to bring Jayce back for them.
"Hand." They demanded then, snapping him out of his thoughts with a start. They withdrew their stick of charcoal from Jayce’s cracked, marble-like forehead and held out their own hand expectantly.
Used to the routine by now, Viktor obediently leaned across the short distance and gave them the limb. His hand dwarfed their’s worse than Jayce’s ever had. A twisted mass of purple tendons and metal, which they gently wrapped their fingers around as far around his wrist as they could go before they guided his outstretched fingertips to the charcoal symbols.
They were always gentle with him in that regard. Despite how furious they were at him for ending the world. In spite of how powerful and imposing he was now, and how difficult he’d actually become to hurt - ridiculous pain tolerance aside. And somehow, the gentleness just made everything so much worse.
The marks did not flare to life. They dropped his wrist, and Viktor pulled back as they wiped away the old runes and set to writing down a fresh set.
"Though your determination is admirable, have you not grown bored yet?" He asked, as he asked them everyday.
"No."
"This isn't working."
"It will."
"There are hundreds of thousands of possibilities. Endless conceivable combinations. There is no way you will be able to try them all."
But instead of ignoring him as they always did, they turned to him today. Their eyes burned with a new found determination. With a light that had Viktor’s tongue going dry.
"Jayce wouldn't give up." They told him sharply, and oh, Viktor hadn’t heard that tone in years, and he hadn’t even realised he’d missed it. "If our roles were reversed, he wouldn't give up on us. Or did that Jayce's determination mean nothing to you." They finished, motioning to the place the other Jayce had been standing just yesterday, having been freshly prepared for the hell he would have to deal with upon returning home.
Viktor lapsed into silence. Eyes distant as he glanced from his blank faced Lover to the meadow of flowers he has cultivated for their late love.
“What?” They pushed an ounce of venom oozing into the word. “No witty quip about how you preferred the silence? How you would have preferred I remained out of your sight, allowing you to revel in the peace a little longer?” “No.” Viktor replied carefully, suddenly wrong footed. “You know I wouldn’t. Prefer it, that is.”
And something cracks open wide in their expression. A loosening to their tightly knotted eyebrows. A widening of their pupils as if something had just clicked into place. Shock perhaps? Realisation? 
“Oh.”
They turned away from him instead of elaborating, some of that hostile wind leaving their sails. 
Viktor could only watch on, a nugget of relief sitting low in his chest, as he was once again silently grateful for the luck of that rune combination working out in this timeline. That he hadn’t succeeded in erasing them. That their sharp tongue and fierce determination outlived his short-sighted thirst for power and submission.
"Hand." 
And like clockwork, Viktor offered it to them.
Their grasp on his wrist remained careful, but firm. So small compared to his much larger form. But fearless in the way they directed him.
Viktor’s fingertips smudged the charcoal when his fingers lightly touched Jayce’s forehead, as the Mage carefully reached inside in search of that thread within Jayce's dormant subconsciousness. He never quite knew what he was searching for when they did this, but he did know that the first time, the wall of resistance had come out of seemingly nowhere, and had shut out his probing touch with an unapologetic firmness. 
But as it always seemed to, Jayce's mind opened up to Viktor and his fingers sank in. Jayce's memories and emotions swirled beneath his fingertips, so fragile and so precious. With a bittersweet smile, Viktor offered him a parting burst of love and adoration before withdrawing. Jayce slumbered on, if not a little easier with the magical nudge.
There was a huff beside him as he withdrew his hand back to his staff. Viktor glanced down at his Companion, whose shoulders were drooping as they tenderly reached up with a damp, charcoal smudged rag to wipe the old runes away, before they took up their charcoal stick and began to draw new ones on.
There was a set to their brow this time. The subtlest of wobbles to their lower lip that made Viktor's stomach twist with guilt and longing. He wanted to reach out and gently pull the charcoal from their hand. To murmur that they needed a break before gathering them to him, but he knew from experience that he would just end up getting shoved away, and they would run from him. That they would use their runes to their advantage to conceal themselves from him.
"I miss him." They whispered under their breath, and Viktor's eyes closed tightly against the sheer pain in their tone.
"As do I." He reassured them, and they smiled tightly at him.
Wordlessly, they reached out for Viktor's hand, and he readily gave it to them. What stunned him however, was how instead of simply placing his fingers for him, they instead brought it to their lips first, and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Their eyes shone when he stared at them in shock, the affection so deeply missed, that for a moment, he was rendered speechless.
His eyes studied their expression, their posture, the magical void produced by their runes. Trying and failing to figure out what had changed. What had induced the whisper of affection he so desperately craved.
"I am still mad at you." They clarified wetly, "but I miss you too, Viktor."
And oh by the Gods, he almost caved right then and there. Just the quiet utterance of his name said so sweetly, so sadly, almost had him losing his cool. Almost had him throwing caution to the wind and hauling them into his lap regardless of the consequences. It was only sheer stubbornness that kept him seated where he was.
He wanted instead to reassure them that he was still here with them. That he had been here the entire time, despite being a little different. Despite having changed. That deep down, he was still their Viktor, and no amount of magic or Hexcore influence could truly take him from them.
But he ended up voicing none of those things to them, because they had already turned away and lifted his offered hand to Jayce’s forehead.
Viktor's fingertips made contact, and sank down into Jayce’s consciousness, all before jolting to a sharp stop. The Mage’s attention flickered fully to the forehead of the statue, where he felt a resistance beginning to bubble. All before the runes under his fingertips burst to life. He let out a pained cry, as his magic was snatched from his grasp, and turned to repel him. 
The grip on his wrist suddenly tightened, and his hand was torn away, severing the connection before the runes could take too much, but not before a sickening crack echoed out across the meadow. For one nauseating moment, Viktor thought he’d finally done it. That he had somehow managed to destroy Jayce’s statue. 
But no, it wasn’t the crack of Jayce’s statue body crumbling to dust. It was the sound of his hands - still outstretched towards his absent hammer - suddenly dropping to his sides as if all the solid particles in his limbs had turned to liquid molecules.
Viktor shot to his feet in moments. 
Regardless of the consequences, he lost no time in scooping up his Lover and hauling them out of the way. One arm wrapped tightly around them and bringing them in to his chest, he levelled his staff defensively at the statue as he began to back up.
The statue that was beginning to look less and less like a statue by the moment. Its smooth, white exterior had begun to flake and twist, whilst the various plants growing around it were beginning to slide right off it, as if their roots had been pushed cleanly out of it. Sheets of marble flaked off of the figure’s ribcage, as its chest began to rise and fall. 
More of the material began to fall off the thing's face, revealing gently closed eyelids and flaring nostrils. Then, the marble around the blown out portion of its head began to grow and round out into the shape of a skull, before it cracked like an egg and hair flopped out. Familiar, deep brown locks.
With a gasp, and a jolt, Jayce came back to life.
His eyelids flew open, and his mouth unhinged in a gasping breath. The runes etched into his forehead solidified and sunk down under his skin in the mockery of a crown, as his hands flew to his throat, and then his bearded cheeks. Curious fingers patted along his nose, up his cheeks, checked to ensure he still had ears. And then he was bending forwards, to glance down at his body, clad in the very same outfit he had worn on the day Viktor absorbed him into the hivemind.
"I'm… I’m alive?" He said breathlessly. And there was bewilderment in his voice. And relief. So much relief. His voice was rough and tired. Weak and barely there. But it was Jayce. And it sounded like home. And by the Gods did it make Viktor want to weep with want and relief. 
Viktor kept his arms loosely wrapped around his human lover as the pair watched Jayce come to himself, and begin to take in his surroundings.
"I told you." Y/n whispered triumphantly, pulling Viktor’s attention down to them. They were practically vibrating in place, one tiny hand wrapped around the back of his hand. Then their face split into a grin, and they tilted their head up and back to catch his gaze. "I TOLD YOU!" They exclaimed in a victorious yell, blessing him with the widest, most excited smile he had  ever seen them muster.
A few short steps away, Jayce had struggled to his feet. He scrambled to get his weakened legs under him, his hands sinking into the soft soil as his knees shook with the effort. He seemed to have not noticed his company yet, as he turned his back to them, to stare out over the destruction of the world sprawled far below. His shoulders heaved with his fast paced breaths as he no doubt took in the dilapidated buildings, the empty river with the corpses of ships resting on their massive sides. The broken and collapsing spires of the bridge, covered in thorny spikes of arcane corruption.
Against it all, Jayce’s Piltovern white jacket was a stark contrast. A nugget of the past, preserved and allowed breath once more. 
With a start, Viktor realised what form he was currently residing in, and the visceral reaction Jayce would no doubt have upon turning and seeing him. Of having his world destroyed, only to turn and find the creature that had done it standing a couple steps behind his turned back. 
The Mage pulled his human disguise on like a cloak, feeling himself shrink down to a variation of his old height. It was the disguise he had been using for every Jayce that had stumbled into this world, allowing his age to show in the lines of this new mask, and the blanket of starlight caught in the fabric to conceal the parts of his old self he could not fully recall. 
Now on more even footing with him, his Lover turned back to him in his loose hold, a tight smile on their face. “You forgot the mole again.” They told him simply, reached up to rub their thumb over a spot just below his eye. Viktor smiled back, pulling the mark into existence beneath this touch, and watching with a lick of satisfaction as the tightness around their eyes loosened ever so slightly when they noticed its presence. 
The urge to close the distance and offer them a kiss in thanks was almost too powerful to ignore. In this form, he certainly had the lips to do so, but he could still feel the tension lingering between them. Although slack with Jayce’s revival, it still remained beneath the surface. Fragile and in desperate need of strengthening. So that kind of affection could wait. Viktor was a patient man after all.
A soft gasp from Jayce had the two of them pulling apart, although Viktor noted with a bittersweet tug that Y/n did not yet withdraw nor they loosen their hold on his arm. As if using Viktor as an anchor.
Jayce was glancing back and forth between the Mage and human with a slack jaw. The weariness in his face was coated in a generous dose of curiosity, which was so obviously a Jayce quality that it made Viktor ache. He wanted to see the weariness slip away entirely though, so he slowly reached up to pull back his hood, allowing Jayce to fully come to terms with who he was in the presence of. 
“Viktor.” He breathed, with such an open expression of grief and relief that Viktor could not tell where one began and the other ended. Then Jayce was scrambling forward, his leg brace creaking ominously from so long without use. 
It was Y/n, who had the foresight to lunge forward to stabilise him before he went down. The absence of their warmth left Viktor suddenly cold, as they darted forward to wrap their hands around Jayce’s forearms. 
Jayce finally tore his eyes off of Viktor’s face, expression falling slack as he stared into a new, achingly familiar face. He whispered their name, like a prayer, and practically tripped over himself, again, to bring a hand up to their cheek. Viktor chuckled softly at the way they blatantly melted under the touch and kind eyes, as Jayce’s gaze flickered up to the runes glowing across their forehead. The wonder that flickered across his eyes was in no way forced, as his thumb lightly traced their cheek. There was not an ounce of fear polluting the air as he looked upon them. 
“You made it.” He whispered simply, all before hauling them close, and forcing them to stumble back a step in order to keep their balance. Faster than expected, the human stilled their flailing hands to tightly curl their arms around Jayce’s broad back. Immediately, shaking fingers clenched tightly into the dirty material of his jacket, holding tight. The pair moulded together perfectly, as they always had. 
And the sight made Viktor's heart ache. He lowered his staff, and took a hesitant step forward, a private, relieved smile tugging at his own lips.
All too soon, Jayce pulled back. Arms still wrapped tightly around the human, he ducked down to press a firm kiss to the skin between their brows, just beneath the lowest rune.
“Careful.” Y/n warned wetly, words waterlogged with emotion.
To which Jayce just kissed them again, more desperately. Almost playful in his relief. “Beautiful.” He complemented, although Viktor was not certain if it was to the runes or simply for them.
And then he turned to Viktor, who felt himself stiffen under the weight of those eyes. Of the sheer relief and love reflecting back at him. They were shocking emotions to find on Jayce’s face. He had expected fear or resentment, or at least caution, but no, Jayce exceeded his expectations once more.
Unwinding one of his arms, he grabbed the Mage by the sleeve and yanked him closer with more strength than Viktor recalled him having. Viktor was so stunned by the sudden motion, that he could not predict Jayce’s intention until he’d already been folded into the hug. 
“It- it is good to see you.” Viktor said hesitantly, patting Jayce’s back as the man squeezed him tightly into his side.
This form fit perfectly under Jayce’s arm, slight and small as it was. It was a far cry from the big, lethal form Viktor had come to favour in this ruined world. But somehow, he knew that Jayce would not take kindly to that face after having just woken up from being sealed away by it in the name of ‘perfection’.
And that was fine. It was enough that Jayce did not look upon him with open horror or suspicion. It was enough that he would instinctively reach a hand out to Viktor, even now, when he least deserved it. Even if he may not truly want Viktor’s touch after everything he had done.
“Jayce,” and oh, it has felt like an eternity since he has been able to say that name so fondly, “you need not-”
Jayce simply turned his head and pressed a tender kiss to the knot between Viktor’s eyebrows. Just as he had kissed Y/n. Light and adoring. And by the Gods, had Vitkor yearned for the warm touch of this man. So much so that he could not help but lean into the second kiss, his eyes slipping closed as his staff fell to the ground with a clatter and he finally returned the hug with both hands.
There was still so much left unsaid between them. Apologies that needed to be offered, and mistakes that needed to be talked out. But for now, this was a start. A very hopeful, good start.
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Jayce ran straight from the Commune. Going as fast as his heavy hammer and ruined leg would allow him.
His heart was in his throat as he crossed the bridge. His breaths were sharp and shallow as he ran up the steps to the academy, dodging past bewildered looking students and ignoring the concerned calls of colleagues. 
His mind kept leaping back to the image of the thing shaped like Viktor collapsed on the floor of its home, dead and lifeless. He watched the unnatural glow of magic behind its eyes flicker and die. He could hear the metallic sound of the cog it had been holding rolling across the sand before running out of momentum and collapsing onto its side.
He had done it. He had completed his mission. And yet, it had not felt like a victory.
Viktor had made no sound when the hammer’s beam had ripped through him. Had offered no dying words as he looked at Jayce with what he could only describe as detached acceptance before his eyes had gone blank.
The thud of Jayce’s shoulder colliding hard with the laboratory doors slammed him back into the present. The door banged hard against the wall from how fast he had shouldered his way inside, having expected a barricade or at least a locked door. But there was nothing. He skidded to a halt in the middle of the room, panting hard as he wildly snapped his eyes around the room.
It looked like it had in the other Y/n’s memories. Viktor chrysalis still stood in the centre of the room before the window. The desk beneath said window was strewn with notebooks depicting rune translations. There was an uncapped marker pen on the floor, and a shattered, hand held mirror beside it. 
But there was no Lab Illustrator. No Y/n. Jayce felt his heart rate begin to kick up again. Even once touched by Viktor’s magic, the dolls still had physical forms. Once they had deactivated, they had screamed and gone limp, but they had still been there. If luck hadn’t been on their side in this universe, there should at least be a body to bury. Unless of course, Viktor had taken them back to the commune with him. Unless they had laid dying amongst the rest of his cult followers, and Jayce had simply run past them. 
His boots were filled with lead as he dragged his hammer deeper into the laboratory. 
Of all his luck, he seethed that this was the one element that had been entirely out of his control. He hated that he hadn’t been here to give them the right combination. Wasn’t here in time to get them out of the lab before Viktor found them.
He let out a furious yell, and with his emotions fueling his strength, he was hauling his hammer up off of the ground. Muscles charged by fury and grief, he brought the corrupted weapon down on the desk, to which the wood split with a satisfying crack. All of those useless notebooks clattering to the floor as Jayce watched. He was half tempted to burn them for all the good they had been. All those countless, irreplaceable hours of research, only for it all to mean nothing when it had truly mattered-
Behind him, in the depths of the gloomy lab, Jayce heard something shift.
“You should not be here.” A voice growled. Which was all the warning Jayce got before he heard the hiss of clothing. The shuffle of a shoe readjusting against tiles.
His hammer was back in his hand, fingers wrapping around the handle that would open the four points and expose the charging core. He spun on his good leg, widening his stance.
Across the room, he saw a silhouette. His breath stuttered and his eyes widening at the ominous glow of seven points on a humanoid head. 
Then the glow of his weapon illuminated the shine of something metallic soaring for his head. With a yelp, Jayce ducked. The wrench hit the wall behind his head with a heavy thump, before it fell to the floor with an unnerving clatter.
Eyes wide, Jayce glanced from it, back to the figure, his hammer lowered unconsciously. He barely dodged the screwdriver that had been sailing for his eye next. 
“OUT!” Came the roaring command from the shadowy figure. 
Jayce let out a choked shout, dropping his hammer in favour of using his hands to scramble away as they darted forward to snatch up a new projectile. 
“Wait!” He tried to reason, hands flying up. The little hammer was thrown at him regardless. Spinning head over handle straight for his face. He ducked that one too. “It’s me!” He bellowed, arms braced on either side of his head, as he ducked and threw himself out of the way of hammers, and screws, and seemingly every tool in the lab that those frantic hands could wrap their fingers around. 
“It’s Jayce!” He yelled, “it’s me! It’s me!”
He rounded the desk and watched as the light from the window slid over him, hopefully strong enough for some part of him to be recognisable despite the destroyed clothes, long unbrushed hair and the horrible beard. 
The figure stilled with a second hammer already drawn back over their shoulder.
“Jayce?” Came the whispered question, as if speaking too loud would cause him to disappear. For a brief moment, Jayce was back in the darkness of the ravine, staring at a shadow with seven glowing eyes. Only this time, he felt no fear. Just all consuming relief. “Yeah.” He croaked, “it’s me.”
The shadow fell quiet and shuffled closer. Clumsy and uncoordinated. Clearly watching Jayce rather than checking where its feet were being placed. Closer and closer those iridescent runes came, until their ominous glow became legible symbols, and Y/n’s pupils retracted as they stepped into the sunlight with him.
There was blood on their face. Curling down their temple, and dried over the curve of their cheeks. The fresh runes glowing against normal skin. Angry and raw as if someone had used a pocket knife to create them instead of a pen and a magical hand. The flesh had split deeply, the iridescent ink having sunk down to replace the blood that would have otherwise welled there. A sharp difference to the neatly, healed over symbols on the other Y/n.
“Oh… Gods-” They murmured, a hand rising up to cover their mouth as they looked at him. Taking in the cuts, and deep exhaustion lines. The unkempt, greasy hair and tangled beard. Jayce tried to smile, but he knew it fell short. “What happened to you?”
There was pen ink on their fingertips, Jayce noticed. Dry now. But there nonetheless. Further evidence of the scene that had occurred here. Of what had led to them hiding alone in a dark laboratory of all places.
“Too much to tell you here.” He replied, “besides, it looks like I should be asking you the same question.”
The hammer slipped from between their slack fingers, and then they threw themselves at him. Arms snapping round his neck to drag him closer with a desperation that Jayce couldn’t help but mirror. The familiar weight of them in his arms finally eased the unsettled fluttering in his chest, as he ducked his head and pressed a grateful kiss to their temple, the fresh runes buzzing pleasantly against his fingertips. 
His companion gave no indication that the action hurt, nor whether they could even feel it. Not that it mattered just yet whether or not the area was numb. 
They were alive. He was alive. And that in itself was a miracle.
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Masterlist
Thank you so much for reading :)))
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kyri45 · 1 month ago
Text
✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 29/10✨
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Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~
@xyuki-iris ha chiesto: I LOVE YOU'RE ART ALSO GOOD FOOD But I have a what if What if Redson found Mk having a panic attack over something serious about him being Trans.
Ouch poor baby Red Son would totally support MK and try to calm him down
@ashmeertheimp ha chiesto: First of all your story is glorious and congrats on getting lmk at the very top. Second does Mk want to work on his relationship with Nuwa. I think Nuwa did truly love Mk but she also loved everyone else on earth equally. Mk has forgiven Mac who actually made an effort to hurt Mk (past mistakes) while Nuwa was opposed but still didn't stop Mk from not fixing the pillar of heaven.
I always felt like after S5 his relationship with Nuwa is similar to the one Steven had with Rose after S5 of SU. So it's- complicated
@audioandart ha chiesto: mayhaps a silly question, but towards the very start of the mk shadow peach stuff when mk first shadows into the wall. He says "why is everything *more* flat". Is this implying he already sees the world as 2d the way we do or am I perhaps missing something? 😅 (I love your work! Have a good day 🫰)
ahah yeah I was!!
@fake-anjel ha chiesto: Your comic makes me stay awake at night thinking of the next cap, making theories and making imaginary scenarios and imaginary gacha reactions to them for some reason. I was wondering... If Wukong and Macaque have a child (hypothetically, and by the biological way) wich one would be the oven for the bun? You have a fan from Brazil<3
Well, I would say Wukong, but here comes the question: a Stone Monkey, born from a stone, would be able to reproduce themself? There are no other like the four celestial primates and MK, so I would assume that they weren't able to- reproduce normally. Also if they would does it mean the womb is a stone as well???
@sollythesalt ha chiesto: Just asking if Wukong is trans do his female organs also count as part of his un-glamored form or does he stay with his male ones when he drops his glamour? Also what does his glamour include in your au just out of curiosity?
No under the glamour and shapeshift he still has female organs
@dandy-doodles ha chiesto: I'm VICIOUSLY consuming your comic rn - It actually came across my feed from a reblog. Never watched the show before. Loved the comic so much I binged the entire series and now I'm sat with the task of reading JTTW. This hyperfixation is your fault I love you for it. @ivoronical ha chiesto: Hi! I don’t know how tumblrs asks work because I’ve never used them before, but just wanted to say that your art is ✨fabulous✨ and you’re shadowpeach bio parents au has convinced me to rewatch the show entirely. It’s also made Macaque one of my favorite characters and because of that I am halfway through making a cosplay of him completely from scratch and I’m very excited to finish it:) Anyways I’ve rambled enough. Have a nice day!!! @starzz-twi ha chiesto: Can I just say how much I adore your art! It inspires so much that I might try drawing lmk again 🫶🫶🫶🫶 @artemismoorea03 ha chiesto: I hope you know that your Bio Parents AU fills every waking moment. I swear I only get on Tumblr anymore to see if you've posted something. I eat up any art you post regardless of what fandom it is and I just have to tell you that your art tastes like a blue raspberry icee (the best kind). I hope you're having a fantastic day ♡
AWWW TYSM TO ALL OF YOU!!!!
@sakuralotus03 ha chiesto: What will family gatherings be like now that MK has 4 parents? Like his birthday or end-of-year celebrations. I want to see more of the dynamics of the 4 parents interacting and talking about their one and only child.🐷🤓☀️🌙
oH CHAOTIC INDEED
Anonimo ha chiesto: How does it feel to be one of those artists that like 70% of the fandom knows about
wait is that a random number or???
Anonimo ha chiesto: Will we maybe see Macaque interact with Bai He or Mei?? (I'm starved of DarkHorse/EnderDragon/NightFlare Duo and Raspberry/Black Cat Duo) But I am interested if you might make them interact! :D Anyways, I love how your art got better by each comic, you can see the improvement from the slight sharpness of the shapes in the first comics and the now softer lines.
mmmmm I will maybe I'll do some small scenes
Anonimo ha chiesto: Past Wukong working out: I'ma get so strong. Ain't no one beating me Present Wukong working out: I'ma be so good at hugging my son and husband.
AWWWWWW WHAT A GOOD BABA!
Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! I wanted to ask if we'll see just how sensitive Macaque's hearing is in your Au in a future comic maybe? Like... a thunderstorm happens or something when he's around FFM watching Mk and Wukong train or something that affects his hearing badly? But either way, love your art and style! :)
mmmm don't know if I have a scene planned for that...
Anonimo ha chiesto: Does Wukong and Macaque know about the other 2 Celstial Primates, Red-Hoarse Baboon and Lomg-Armed Gibbon, in your Bio Shadowpeach parents au?
I think so? In JTTW he knew so I would assume the same?
Anonimo ha chiesto: Will Macaque use his future vision at any time again in this comic? We now know in this Au he hasn't used it in years. But maybe will he use it again soon? I bet he won't but I still wanted to ask :)
not unless he is forced to
Anonimo ha chiesto: I’ve been listening to a song from a Pokémon movie: Always Safe by Cynthia, and I think of the Shadowpeach bioparents Au everytime
AWW that's beautiful the lyrics omg!!!
@notjustonefandom1 ha chiesto: So, I've been thinking about MK's staff. After he got it do you think he develops a habit of clasping his hands together, especiallywhen stressed or threatened? With the fluidity and energy he moves with, I think it would take a while for him yo find a chance to Summon the staff, especially if he isn't fast at it yet, so he just starts keeping his hands pressed together in preparation.
ooooohhh that's a cool idea!
Anonimo ha chiesto: Where does the Macaque has white fur head canon come from? I'm new to this fandom and I'm still learning things and I see it everywhere
I honestly have no idea but I guess either because Japanese Macaque are white furred or bc he died.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Ok so this may be a sensitive topic and definitely doesn't need to be answered so TW Did mk ever go through a depression thing after trying to die to save the universe in the last season in your au? A in like what if Wukong and Mac find out he used to SH?
hish. I'm not probably the right person to answer this. Probably he did had depression tendencies but didn't recognize them until someone pointed them out.
Anonimo ha chiesto: This ask os Going to be a little weird But Can I See Macaque Pining Wukong on the wall?In a Flirty way?(pretty Please?) I love Your Art so much!👑❤️‍🔥💎
Ouh.. *cleans forehead from sweat* is getting hot in here... maybe?
@autism-autobot ha chiesto: Wukong: OH BUDDHA, HE CALLED ME BABA!!!!! (SCREAMS WITH JOY) What DBK heard over the phone with his brother: OH andhdbrjjsm (feral monkey screeching)
Poor DBK gotta deal with the gossip now
@alastair-1205 ha chiesto: OMG THE MOST RECENT PART IM CRYING But I also love how Mac's first instinct is just grabbing Wukong and being like: "get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of-" you know? It's very funny but also builds on past comics since they woke MK up last time smth like this happened and I'm just !!!!!
GOTTA MAKE THE BABY SLEEP
@eerieqloss ha chiesto: OSISJJWJSJSJWWN OKAY WAIT SO IS MK GONNA START CALLING THEM MAMA AND BABA INSTEAD OF THEIR NAMES CONTINUALLY OR WAS IT JUST THAT ONE TIME
It wont be a one time!
Anonimo ha chiesto: I hope you are resting as you should Always remember to take your time, rest first, then work, ofc as far as possible 😅. I have a fun question (if you have the time ofc 👉🏻👈🏻): will we see Feral MK again? But you know, like another kind of "demonic learning" that maybe wukong or Mac will teach him to control or see that it's not bad as it looks
For now i want my baby to either be happy or traumatized not angry.
Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like i remember you asking about happier shadowpeach songs for your playlist, but I can't find the post anymore. But if you're still looking, Livingston's new song Glow reminds me of them and also made me think about the eclipse scenes in the comic.
Several of Livingston's other songs also give me shadowpeach vibes, but I think about them so much that I might just be seeing them everywhere at this point.
Oooh true a lot of his song fits really well!!
Anonimo ha chiesto: This is the only instance where having a kid really did bring a couple together.
TRUE LMAO
Anonimo ha chiesto: Soo...Wukong and Mac in the DBK Palace I have a question in my mind!!!! Actually I hope you to see it and draw it.. if you don't wanna it's okay! What if DBK & PIF flirt with each other or smt like this u know in front of shadowpeach?! They will probably look to each other and then blushing hard
HAHAHHA poor souls they would totally think of wanting to kiss each other but can't because they are emotionally constipated.
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sysig · 2 years ago
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Evil Alignments, Aces Wild (Patreon)
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Classic Sona, Aces Tired (lol)
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Hugs are nice ♥
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Don’t tell me what to do >:0
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Okay fine
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[Doubt]
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At least there’s a wakefulness period after the fact
#Doodles#Villainsona#Just Desserts#True Villainy AU#Vent#Just put it all in one for ease of consumption lol#I'm fine now thankfully it's just always a good form of expression to get it down on paper#And sometimes it ends up cool lol#Sona-sonas get center stage! Regular sona gets to hang out with Bar lol#Who also counts as a sona-sona kind of not really mostly probably#Anyway lol#[Purple Text] still gets to have the most excitable energy I guess lol - even while agitated#Constant ringing keys noise lol#Going in again a bit on their strain of what ownership means - still very skewed but they're happy about it so?? Good for them lol#You're only supposed to have one red string [Purple Text] and then they're surprised when some of them detach when they're not looking#Well their hobby is tying new fates so :P It's entertainment! Pfft#They never want for activities that's for sure lol#I do think the pose turned out neat for the multi-strings :)#More TVAU Charm uh oh :0 Kaiein >:|#He's being light on purpose - part of his contrast/''I'm better than you'' play egh#Not that Charm's paying much attention#Been a bit since the wing - ah dang I just realized I forgot the shawl lol oh well next time!#It'd be harder to see with her silhouette so dark anyway just pretend it's there haha#He's always ready with the insults >:| Not helping!#And then classic sona stuffs#I'm so glad I like food 99% of the time lol it's only when I'm stressed that my appetite just bottoms out#Wish it didn't also make my stomach hurt but I mean - it does make sense lol#Bar's always good for a point in the right direction at least haha he's a good lad#Ate and got through the scary dreams >:3 Made it out! Good good
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uchizana · 23 days ago
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CHORDS OF LOVE ──── yu jimin
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synopsis: during an unexpected storm that traps you and karina, the talented guitarist of aespa, alone in the studio, she decides it’s time to stop hiding her heart. with the rest of the band away seeking dinner, the atmosphere crackles with the potential for confession. as the wind howls outside, will karina's brave revelation about her long-standing crush bring the two of you closer, or will fear of breaking the band’s sacred harmony send her heart spiraling into uncertainty?
pairing: rockstar!karina x bandmate!fem reader
warnings: kissing, none more that I know of
word count: 2.7k
— english isn't my first language so sorry if there are any grammar mistakes.
aespa masterlist.
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jimin lets out a sigh of frustration, letting the pen fall free from the grip of her fingers, landing on the worn leather of the notebook. the pages are overwhelmed with half-formed lyrics, doodles of hearts and stars, and errant thoughts. it’s all a chaotic testament to her inner turmoil, a reflection of the pressure she feels to deliver yet another brilliant album. she drops her body abruptly onto the swivel chair, causing her to squeal at the sudden force, a sound that slices through the silence of the studio.
what was going on? well, jimin was trying to write a song for the next album of the rock band she was in—the band you were also a part of, and not just a member, but the very heart of its musical identity. it was complicated enough that the last few weeks had seen her pacing frantically when she wasn’t teetering on the edge of frustration.
the impossible task looms larger every moment, each hollow space on the page amplifying her every doubt. twelve songs, twelve distinct messages, and she still has nothing but crossed out words and half-formed melodies that refuse to budge from the intricacies of her mind
“hey! you okay?” comes a voice from behind her.
it’s aeri, her sandy-blonde hair falling over her face as she leans against the door frame, followed closely by minjeong and yizhuo, both of whom wear playful smiles. they giggle like schoolgirls as they watch her theatrical outburst, a wave of warmth washing over jimin despite her frustration.
“what was that for?” yizhuo laughs, her eyes sparkling.
“just trying to summon some creativity over here,” jimin groans, throwing her head back dramatically.
just then, a deep rumble of thunder rolls through the air, pulling her from her reverie. she jumps slightly in her seat, feeling the giggles of her bandmates filter into the little bubble of her frustration. aeri, with her ever-gleeful spirit; minjeong, always the pragmatist; and yizhuo, who somehow always finds the light in the chaos. they share a laugh at her expense, teasing her about how a mere thunderclap was enough to shatter her precious concentration. the light-heartedness brings a slight grin to her face, easing the tight knot forming in her chest.
“jimin,” aeri says playfully, “you look like the world’s weight is on your shoulders. relax a little. we have plenty of time before we need to head into the studio to record anyway.” the sincerity in her voice softens the ribbing, a reminder to jimin that she doesn’t have to shoulder this burden alone.
the thunder doesn’t just signal a storm outside; it mirrors the tempest within her. “i swear, these lyrics are just not coming together,” she admits, the words creeping out reluctantly. they mean more than just her struggles with songwriting—they seep into her personal thoughts.
“we didn't realize we were dealing with a diva here!” yizhuo jumps in, her voice light and cheerful as she shimmies her thin jacket over her shoulders. “relax, jimin. you’re going to burn yourself out. we have time before any of it matters.”
jimin scowls playfully but the laughter helps buoy her spirits. “you’re all just lucky i didn’t throw something at you,” she retorts with mock irritation.
“seriously though, don’t stress too much,” aeri advises, her expression more earnest now. “we have plenty of time before recordings. you don’t want to wear yourself out before we even get to the fun part!”
they all know how much it means to her—the thrill of performing together, the rush of being in front of their fans, the electricity in the air during their concerts. but right now, it’s hard to remember that. right now, it’s just the empty pages and the untamed notes swirling in her mind.
as the three of them discuss dinner plans, jimin shifts her gaze back to her notebook. the messy letters seem to mock her. she stares at the crossed-out lines, the hints of torn pages—a chaotic representation of her tangled thoughts. then she hears the unmistakable sound of jackets being zipped up, and her heart beats faster.
“what are you doing?” jimin asks, a hint of desperation threading through her tone as her eyes dart between them.
"we’re going out for dinner! we can’t just live on snacks while we’re working in the studio," yizhuo said, rolling her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing.
“we’re off to grab something to eat. something good, and then we’ll come back and keep working,” aeri ads, and you can see the kindness shining in her eyes. “you need a break, jimin. fresh air and a good meal might be just what you need.”
jimin watches as they exchange conspiratorial glances. just then, her eyes drift across the room and land on you, nestled comfortably in the corner of the couch. you haven’t moved to grab your coat despite the playful teasing. you’re her bandmate, the composer who has been behind the production of all the band’s musical hits, and the group’s guitarist—a presence that sends both comfort and confusion coursing through her.
your brow is furrowed slightly as you focus on your guitar. the twilight light reflects in your eyes, making it impossible for jimin to ignore the way her heart leaps just at the sight of you. there is something captivating, magnetic, in the way you lose yourself in the music, translating emotions into notes as you’ve always done.
and that’s the problem. over time, that admiration has turned into something else—something more profound. a crush that runs deeper than a passing fling or a drunken kiss. it’s the kind of affection that makes her chest ache when you smile, the kind that sets her pulse racing whenever you laugh.
“hey, you coming with us?” minjeong asks, breaking her reverie.
you look up from your guitar, a faint smile revealing a tenderness that tugs at jimin’s heartstrings. “i’ve got a few more things to work on, so I’ll stay here for now,” you say, your voice low and soothing.
jimin feels a rush of disappointment. she wants to invite you to join them, to share a meal and a moment outside this studio bubble that has kept them all locked in a creative frenzy.
“are you sure?” she asks, an urge swallowing her hesitation. “we could really use more brains. i mean, the sky might just help us to stir some creativity, right? plus, i’ve decided to try a new place that serves the best pasta in town!”
you chuckle softly, a sound she could listen to forever. “pasta sounds good, but i really need to sort out these lyrics before i can think of anything else.” your eyes dart back to the guitar strings in a way that makes her want to scream in frustration.
she watches you for a moment, the weight of her feelings hovering between them. the unspoken connection thickens in the air, but it’s the fog of uncertainty that keeps her immobile. how would you react if she confessed that her admiration had blossomed into something stronger? that every fleeting touch during practice ignited sparks that lingered for far too long?
“alright then, we’ll be back soon,” aeri interjects, clapping her hands together. “when we come back, you better be done with that song, or i’ll be taking that guitar from you!”
as the door swings shut behind them, silence envelops the room, leaving you alone with the sound of the rain trickling against the window, the storm still raging outside.
and then—there it is—this longing that has previously felt muted begins to pulse stronger. jimin's focus on her songs often distracts her from what lies just beneath the surface, a connection built on years of shared laughter, tears, and unspoken words. watching her struggle, you decide to take a risk, to bridge the gap widening between you both.
you rise from the couch, guitar in hand, and move toward her desk. the sight of the crumpled notes makes your heart ache for her, knowing she isn’t just creating music; she’s trying to carve out her place in the world.
jimin rubs her forehead and sighs, an audible sound of frustration escaping her lips. the tension in the room grows thicker; the air feels electric, charged with unspoken words and lingering glances.
“can't seem to get the right words out,” she mutters, her pen tapping against the page in irritation. you’ve been cooped up in this studio all afternoon, trying to piece together something worthwhile for the next album, but every sentence that flows from her pen seems to vanish into the void of her mind.
“ugh, i can’t think of anything!” she finally exclaims, tossing the pencil aside in frustration. it clatters to the floor, breaking the spell of quiet. leaning back on the chair, she tilts her head, exposing her delicate neck. the curve of her jaw catches the light just so, and for a moment, you forget about the music.
“why not try writing something about desire?” you suggest, your voice steady despite the flutter that ignites in your chest. it’s an idea that’s been bubbling in your mind since the last time you two shared that knowing glance, that electric chemistry lurking just under the surface. “you know, something forbidden?”
“desire…” she repeats, rolling the word across her tongue like a sweet melody. “that could be something.”
you nod, emboldened by the thought of igniting that spark. “yeah. something raw, something real—like secrets we keep or...”
“or that lingering touch we dare not explore?” jimin finishes for you, her gaze piercing through the dim light. there's a challenging tone in her voice, teasing and serious all at once, stirring something primal inside you.
“exactly,” you say, your heart pounding in rhythm with the notes you play. the tempo quickens, matching the beat of your thoughts. you’re both living in a world of unspoken possibilities, and suddenly, it feels like the walls of the studio are closing in, trapping you in this moment.
you set your guitar aside, the faint sound of strings vibrating mingling with the quietness of the room. the soft sound echoes like a heartbeat between you, creating a momentary pause where the world outside fades away.
“what do you know about desire?” she challenges playfully, a teasing smile breaking her earlier frustration. it’s a question that feels loaded as your chest tightens; you’ve known her long enough to recognize the weight behind her words. you can tell she’s not merely asking about the general concept.
“oh, i know a thing or two,” you reply, forcing a chuckle, though the truth is that you’re acutely aware of your own frustrations—of the yearning that’s been building each time you share a moment with her. each chord you strum, every late-night practice, has only made you more aware of how intoxicating she is, how your affection for her swells when you least expect it.
“like what?” she asks, leaning back the chair, her body subconsciously inching closer as if drawn to you. the light dimming, stripping away the outside world, leaves only the two of you.
you shrug, trying to mask the magnetic pull you feel toward her. “desire is…” you start, and the words spill forth unbidden. “it’s wanting something that feels out of reach, something you can’t have. it stirs up excitement and fear all at once.”
you take a breath and lean forward, resting the guitar on your knee, your fingers practically itching for more than just strings. “what if we wrote a song about—” you hesitate, the weight of your words anchoring the air around you, “—about the tension between... two people who want more than what they’re allowed to have?”
jimin's eyes shine with a spark that mirrors your own feelings. “you mean like us?” her voice is barely above a whisper, the question hanging uncomfortably yet intoxicatingly between you.
a pulse of vulnerability courses through your veins, and you search her face for signs, for permission, for something you hope desperately isn’t just a figment of your imagination. “maybe,” you manage, your throat dry as sand.
with a slight tilt of her head, jimin's expression morphs, shifting from playful to something softer, more sincere. “what if...” she trails off, glancing down at her notebook, biting her lip. “what if we expressed that desire? what if we were brave enough to put it into words?”
the silence stretches, thick with anticipation. you both know the unvoiced truth as well as you know every chord on your guitar. you’re no longer just bandmates; you’re two souls on the precipice of deeper connection, caught between friendship and something intoxicatingly new, dangerously thrilling.
“then we should be brave,” you say softly, inching closer on the carpet. the air thickens, charged with an energy you can almost taste. “just like the music we create.”
the silence that follows is charged, both of you holding your breath while the world spins outside your bubble. you can’t help but notice how her gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, a magnetic pull mirrored in your own gaze as you take in every feature that makes her jimin—her tousled hair, the glint of determination in her eyes, those lips that seem to provoke a longing you didn’t know was possible.
you lean forward instinctively, drawn like gravity. “what if we…” you murmur, but you don’t quite finish the sentence. instead, your heart races ahead of your mind, and you find yourself inching closer, the distance collapsing between you.
just then, jimin's breath quickens; she takes a sharp inhale that slices through the electrically charged atmosphere. her eyes widen a fraction, and in her gaze, you see an invitation strung between confusion and that intoxicating desire.
slowly, jimin leans forward, eyes locking onto yours. there’s a shift in the atmosphere, an understanding that dances in the silence—an unbreakable thread tethering you to this moment. and then, in a heartbeat, the distance collapses.
your lips meet, tentative and ignited by the electricity pulsing between you. the kiss is soft at first, exploratory, as if you are both testing the waters of this new territory. it’s warm and lingering, sending shockwaves through your body. there’s a hunger, a desperate need to explore the intimacy that’s always been lurking beneath the surface of your friendship.
as you deepen the kiss, time seems to lose all meaning. the world outside the studio fades away; it’s just you and jimin—everything you’ve ever wanted. every secret glance shared during practice, every lingering touch of fingers in an accidental brush, all the pent-up emotions spill over. her hands find their way to your hair as yours cradle her face, and the kiss transforms, blooming into something fierce and intoxicating.
the kiss feels forbidden, electric—a culmination of all the moments you’ve shared, the chemistry that had always clouded your interactions. everything that had remained unspoken now dances into the open, painting the walls of the studio with a vivid hue of realization.
moments stretch into infinity, lost in the rhythm of each other’s breathing and the distant echo of the life outside the studio. when you finally pull away, foreheads resting together, both of you are breathless, hearts racing as you hold onto this fragile moment of truth.
“wow,” she breathes, laughter bubbling at the edges of her words. there’s a mix of disbelief and wonder in her gaze, and you can’t help but smile.
“i guess that’s one way to write a song about desire,” you murmur, teasing as you catch your breath.
jimin chuckles, her cheeks flushed, and for a moment, the weight of the world falls away, leaving only lightness and possibility. “let’s make it a good one then,” she agrees, eyes sparkling, and you both know that this is just the beginning.
as you sink back into the rhythm ,,,,,,,of creativity, the lines of your collaboration shift and blend. this time, though, it’s filled with a beautiful new tension, a music born from uncharted desires that will carry you through the creation of a masterpiece—together. and maybe, just maybe, what started in this studio would reverberate far beyond the notes, echoing through the very hearts of your songs to come.
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woso-soso · 6 months ago
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Missing Puzzle Piece Pt.1
Mapi Leon x Reader x Ingrid Engen
Summary: Mapi and you have been together for years, what will happen when a new person makes an appearance in your lives.
Word Count: 3,639
Part 2
Any time words are Italicized it indicates another language being spoken, in the case of this story it will indicate Spanish is spoken.
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You’d known María for years, having met when you were barely big enough to ride the fair rides that came into town every year. Meeting at a volleyball camp held at your town's community center, and while María thrived at it you found yourself cowering in the back. Shrinking further into yourself as you struggled to integrate into the game, finding yourself more so on the end of flying balls. Balls you weren't prepared to hit back, leading to more than one frustrated groan from the team you had been forced onto. By the time lunch had come around you were left to sit alone at one of the tables set up, that was until a wild haired girl came bounding over. A smile wide across her face as she sets her lunch down at the seat across from you. You hadn’t caught her name at introductions, having been more focused on not puking on your shoes than learning anyone's names.
“I’m María,” she said, her mouth full of food. “But everyone except my mama calls me Mapi.” 
You stare at the strange girl in front of you, her arms covered in doodles. Many of them being extremely detailed, maybe the two of you would have something to talk about after all. “I’m Y/N,” you whisper hoping the much louder girl will be able to hear you. 
“So why are you here Y/N, I mean not to be rude but like you seem to hate it,” Mapi remarks not looking up from the food in front of her as she continues to shovel it into her mouth at a speed that was honestly impressive. 
“My papa, he got the dates mixed up when registering. I was supposed to be at the art camp next week but now I’m stuck here instead.” You answer somberly. Your papa was doing his best, becoming a single parent suddenly hadn’t been the plan and the two of you took it in stride together. Even when he did mess up, at least he was trying. 
“So you like art,” Mapi’s interest piques as she finally slows down to look up at you. You nod softly as you pick at the simple sandwich in front of you. Something you had thrown together that morning because your papa had forgotten to pack lunch the night before. “What do you like to do?”
“Well, I like drawing. My papa just got me a ton of new pencils to try. But I also really like taking pictures. I have this film camera at home, papa says when it's full we can send it off to get them developed. Apparently it's a long process.” The camera had been something your therapist had suggested, she thought it would benefit your dad to see what piques your interest. Helping get inside your mind since getting you to talk was a challenge. “Do you like drawing,” you inquire hesitantly, looking again at the intricate doodles that covered Mapi’s arms. 
“I love drawing, my mama says I get ink everywhere but I like drawing on my arms. At least then I get to see them all the time.” Mapi’s answer intrigues you. You could see the cap of a ballpoint pen stick out the top of her shirt having been clipped inside to attempt to conceal it. 
“I like that,” you state, a soft smile crossing your face as you look Mapi in the eyes. Her own large smile somehow getting larger. 
“Come here,” Mapi says suddenly, “would you like some drawings of your own.” You nod cautiously, moving around the table to sit next to the taller girl. Wiping her hands on her shorts before grabbing the ballpoint pen. “Here, stretch out your arm,” her hand gently takes your forearm, extending it across the table so it lays flat palm up. The pen tickles, but quickly you grow used to it. Mapi works slowly, making small marks across your arm as you relax into the feeling. 
The rest of the day is less anxiety-inducing as you switch over to the same team as Mapi, her presence not only calming but protective as you were able to hide behind her. Avoiding any more unwanted contact with volleyballs. When your papa comes to get you you can see him eyeing the ink marks across your skin, a relieved smile crossing his face as he watches you wave to Mapi her matching ink marks clear on her skin. 
“So did you make a friend today?” He questions cautiously. 
“I think I did papa,” a bright smile appearing on your face for the first time in a long time. 
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“You got in!,” Mapi shouts gleefully, her arms wrapping around your body. The letter grasped tightly in your hand as happy tears trail down your cheeks. 
After meeting Mapi the two of you quickly became tightly bonded. Spending many evenings camped out in each other's bedrooms exploring different art mediums, a football game usually playing in the background as you talked softly. Mapi had always encouraged your photography, she insisted that while you were one for few words your photos always told a story. It was because of her that you got up the courage to apply to art school, the same art school Mapi had gotten into and while she chose to focus on football and not attend you knew it was still the best place for you. 
“I did it, I can’t believe I did it,” you mumble into her shoulder. Your tears leaving a damp spot on her shoulder. 
“I knew you could do it, your mama would be so proud,” Mapi whispers softly, her hand stroking your hair. A new wave of tears starting at the thought of your mama. She had been gone for so long yet it felt like just yesterday she had been showing you her own camera, a camera locked up safely in the attic. 
You pull away from Mapi’s warm embrace slowly, your arms staying connected around her neck. Your stomach twisting as you stare into her eyes, you knew you had feelings for her. It would almost be weirder if you didn’t, the two of you had been inseparable since you were small. You had been there for her through hundreds of football games where she dominated over the boys and she had been there for you while you displayed your photographs at various school events. She knew you front and back, like a book she had read a million times and you knew her the same. Before you can even think about what you're doing you lean in, Mapi making no move to pull away as your lips connect. 
Mapis lips are slightly chapped, yet taste like strawberry as if she had just applied chapstick. Her arms tighten around you, pulling you in closer as the kiss becomes more frantic. The pent up attraction between the two of you coming out full force. The sound of your front door closing being the only thing to snap the two of you apart. Your face most certainly flushed bright red as you stare at the carpeted floor under your feet. 
“I’m sorry,” you breathe, quickly wiping your face clean of any chapstick. The strawberry scent lingering. 
“Why?” Mapi asks quietly, leaning back on your bed. Watching you as your brain races a mile a minute. 
“I shouldn’t have just jumped you like that, I just… I assumed things and I’m sure they aren’t correct,” your voice cracks as you try to keep from crying. Embarrassment is clear on your face with your blazing red cheeks. 
“How do you know,” Mapi asks. 
“How do I know? Because come on Mapi look at you and look at me, it's silly to think we could be anything more than friends.” You mumble.
“Well firstly, best friends. Secondly, what do you mean look at you? You are the most amazing person I know, I’m honored you like me that way. I’ve liked you for a long time now, I just never had the courage to say anything.” The two of you sit in silence for a moment, Mapi’s words hanging in the air. 
“Really?” You whisper, turning to look at her. 
“Really,” Mapi says, her hand taking yours. 
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The two of you are practically inseparable after that, wherever Mapi goes you are sure to follow. For years you worked at small photography studios, focusing on simple family portraits, weddings, and other parties. But by chance there was a day you got asked at the last minute to photograph Atlético Madrid's game against Real Sociedad. Atlético’s regular photographer had fallen ill and of course Mapi took this as a chance to throw your name out there. Sure some of her teammates were aware of your relationship but that didn’t seem to be a hindrance as you trekked out to the sidelines of the pitch, camera and monopod in hand. The game goes well, except for the occasional stray ball you stay safely tucked away capturing the high emotions of the game. 
“Did you get my good side,” Mapi jokes as she approaches, her cheeks flushed from having just finished a full ninety minute game. 
“Now when did you develop a bad side?” Your eyebrows raise in question as you continue to pack up your gear, preparing for a long night at home editing.
“Just checking, just checking” Mapi smirks, hands raised in surrender as she turns to take off back towards her teammates. 
While that night is long. You curled up on the couch as Mapi’s head rests in your lap, her soft snores reminding you how late it was, your hand gently combing through her hair as you edit the lot of photos you had taken. Only finishing as the sun begins to rise, a nagging headache forming behind your eyes as you close your laptop. 
“Come on love, let's go sleep properly,” you grunt as you nudge Mapi off your lap. 
“What time is it?” Mapi groans as you drag her to her feet. Her eyes barely opening enough to see her surroundings. 
“It's either very late or very early, let's not think about it.” You say as you push her into bed, joining her on the other side. Burying yourself under the covers, hoping for at least some restful sleep. 
What you hadn’t expected to come from the game was a permanent job offer from Atlético. They insisted they needed a photography assistant and that if you wanted it you were more than welcome to have it. It wasn’t something you even need to consider, quickly accepting the offer on the table. In the three years you were with Atlético you learned as much as you could, following the lead photographer like a shadow. Getting to know the coaches and players, learning where to draw boundaries with Mapi, you may be together but you weren’t about to risk either of your jobs because of it. 
That's what made it so hard to leave, when Barcalona came knocking at Mapi’s door it would have been stupid to say no. But the dread of having to start over in a new city made you nervous. You were already away from home most of the time, only seeing your papa a few times a year. You had finally established a career in Madrid, but at the same time you knew you couldn’t be away from Mapi. The two of you moved in tandem for a reason, you were two pieces to the same puzzle. You would rather put your career on hold to be there for her then be in Madrid, alone. 
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Things fall into place easily in Barcelona, a job as an editing assistant for the men's team opens up only a few weeks after you move in with Mapi. Sure it wasn’t where your passion lied but it was something. 
“How are you settling in my love,” Mapi asks one morning as the two of you laid together in bed, the sun leaking in through the slightly open curtains. Her hand tracing shapes along your spine. 
“It’s okay, I wish I was with the women's team but it's okay, it's a start.” You knew deep down your only actual chance to work with the women's team would be if someone leaves, and who would leave working for the most successful team in the league. 
“It will happen one day, they will see just how talented you are and they won't be able to deny you the  job you want.” You appreciated Mapi’s optimism, she had always been your biggest cheerleader. Reassuring you throughout the years as the two of you grew and changed with one another. 
“Thank you my love, we can hope, but let's not get them too high.” You whisper softly, tracing the tattoos that cover Mapis arms only stopping once your alarm interrupts your morning peace. 
The two of you go your separate ways when you hit the gate at work, her slipping off to practice as you make your way down the never ending hallways. Passing offices of people important enough to have actual doors, eventually settling into your small cubical towards the back of the room. A place you can tuck yourself into and hide from the rest of the office. 
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This continues for years, Mapi and you continent in your relationship never really sharing it with others outside of your family and friends. Your social media staying very much private, especially as you start to get more attention from fans of the team for the photographs you take, having been promoted to the men's team head photographer. You were happy, sure you had hopes and dreams you were still working towards but you found yourself fond of the simple everyday routine that you and Mapi had formed. 
That was until you literally ran into a goddess. 
The tall dark haired beauty had exited the main conference room right as you were passing, not a chance for either of you to stop as you collided. The box of hard drives crashing to the ground as she grabs your arm to stabilize you. 
“I’m so sorry,” the brunette says quickly, a thick accent making it challenging for you to understand. Your limited understanding of English not aiding in the matter. 
“It.. is.. okay,” you stammer out, hoping you said something okay. The soft smile on the woman's face giving you some reassurance that you had. 
“I’m Ingrid, I just signed on with the women's team.” The woman you now know as Ingirid declares, her hand extended towards you. Your mind going blank as you gently take her hand. 
“I am Y/N,” you say with less confidence than her. 
“Well, it's very nice to meet you Y/N.” Ingrid declares, dropping your hand to bend down and retrieve the box you had dropped. Thankfully none of the hard drives had fallen out. 
And with that she was gone, your mind racing at warped speed. The tingle on your skin from where she had been holding your arm reminding you of the feelings that had coursed through you. A sudden wave of nausea washing over you as Mapi popped into your mind, your fun, sweet, goofy Mapi. How you could even think of another woman, one you don’t even know, one who will have to work with your LONGTIME partner. This sudden feeling of guilt settling into your stomach. 
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You avoid the topic with Mapi for the next few days, a weird silence falling over your shared apartment any time work is brought into the conversation. You know she can tell something is wrong, you can feel her watching you as you try to keep yourself distracted in the apartment. Being barely able to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time this sudden influx of anxiety being clear as day to anyone who knows you. 
It isn’t until one late night when you get home from traveling with the mens team that you and Mapi finally talk. She had stayed up late, catching you as you snuck in the front door.
“Please, my love, come talk to me. Somethings wrong, I can tell.” Mapi’s words make your heart ache, looking into her eyes you see someone who so desperately wants you to open up. Something that you had never seen before, up until now you and Mapi had never had issues communicating. Communication was actually one of the things the two of you pride yourselves on, something many of your friends were actually stunned by when they first learned how open the two of you are. 
You take your time to drop your bags, sliding your shoes off as you close the door behind you. The pit of anxiety growing more into a black hole. Sitting down next to Mapi on the sofa, not daring to look at her. The two of you sitting in silence for what felt like hours, Mapi’s hand gently grasping yours. 
“What is going on in your mind my love,” Mapi whispers softly as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 
“I… I um, I met one of your new teammates last week.” You swallow, tears pricking at your eyes as guilt eats away at you. “She bumped into me in the main offices,” you whisper looking over at Mapi as she watches you intensely. 
“Did she do something to you?” Mapi asks, a hint of urgency in her tone. 
“Nothing bad I promise, she probably doesn’t even remember meeting me. But… when she held my arm to keep me from falling I got this feeling.” You turn away from Mapi again, not wanting to see the look on her face. “And I hate this feeling, it's a feeling I’m only supposed to have with you, yet my skin burned where she held it. I feel like I’m betraying you even though I haven’t done anything.” 
You don’t dare look at Mapi, her hand hasn't left yours and she never shifts further away from you. But this feeling of guilt settles in your stomach, the fear that she will be angry at you for your unwanted thoughts lingers in the back of your mind. 
“Who was it?” Mapi asks after a few long moments. 
“What?” The shock is evident in your voice as you snap your head to look at her. Having expected anger, not curiosity. 
“What is her name? Who is it?” She asks again, meeting your eyes, a soft squeeze of your hand reassuring you. 
“She said her name is Ingrid. I think she just signed on with the team.” Sharing the only information you had. 
Mapi takes a moment to process what you had said, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks as she takes you in. “It’s okay,” she reassures after a moment. “I am guilty of the same,” Mapis' words shocking you. 
“What?” You hiccup. 
“I have had the same feelings you have had for her, I’ve been struggling with them to my love. She is… enticing to put it simply. I don’t blame you for feeling this way about her.” Mapi’s words both alarm you and reassure you. You had felt some security in knowing that while you held these feelings there was no way you were going to interact with Ingrid again. But knowing that Mapi also held those feelings, for someone she is seeing everyday, traveling with, showering with. A sudden wave of fresh tears form in your eyes. 
“You… you like her too. Were you ever going to tell me?” You ask suddenly, pulling your hand away from hers.  
“Of course I was, it's not like I would ever dream of acting on those feelings. I was worried about you. You’ve been acting off.” Mapi defends. 
“I’ve been acting off because I find this person attractive, the same person you apparently find attractive. A person you will be spending time with, alone.” A tone that isn’t anger but more so anxiety present in your voice. 
“I’m not going to ever act on it, I love you, that isn’t changing.” Mapi insist. 
“But what if you eventually find you are loving her? She seems charming, pretty. What do I have to compete.” 
“You aren’t competing my love, there is no competition.” Mapi’s words hang in the air as you process all that has been shared. 
But what if you want to share? The thought of Ingrid making your heart flutter, not in the way Mapi makes it flutter but in a way that feels like she completed the puzzle the two of you were pieces in. Your love for Mapi hadn’t changed, it had only grown over the years, but the thought of Ingrid felt like your heart was whole. 
“What would you think if I thought dating Ingrid would be appealing, if I thought she would fit in well with us?” You ask hesitantly. 
“Are you asking if I would want to open our relationship?” Mapi asks. 
“Not open, it wouldn’t just be anyone. Just Ingrid.” You respond, watching Mapi out of the corner of your eye. 
“I… I wouldn’t be opposed, not if she would be okay with it. She would have to want both of us, I’m not losing you because of someone else.” Mapi whispers. 
“I don’t think you would have to ever worry about losing me.” You say softly as you place a gentle kiss on Mapi's cheek. “Let's think of it this way, if Ingrid shows any interest we consider it. But we will not tarnish us by seeking it out, okay?” 
“I’m okay with that,” Mapi agrees, her arms wrapping around you tightly as the two of you sink back into the couch. A million thoughts racing through your mind as everything that has happened catches up to you.
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valsverse · 1 year ago
Text
— GENERAL DATING HC'S (part two)
pairing: percy jackson, annabeth chase, leo valdez, piper mclean, jason grace, hazel levesque, frank zhang (respectively) x gn!reader word count: 3.9k
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percy jackson
if anyone is boyfriend coded it's percy.
the way percy immediately squeezes your hand to call your attention the second he spots something he knows you'd love. whether it's your favorite song playing in a store, or the sight of pretty flowers in full bloom, percy's just as excited as you are !!
for some reason, percy really likes to shower you with hugs. whether you're out in public or nestled comfortably in your own cabin, he's quick to wrap his arms around you and hold you close! you can feel his warmth radiating against your skin as he presses his body close to yours, his face nuzzled snugly in the crook of your neck. he just doesn't want to let you go, at least not yet. maybe it's because he feels safe when he's holding onto you, and he doesn't want that feeling to disappear so quickly. not that you mind, though.
percy loovvees to hold your hand in public, like he literally can't get enough of it. no matter where you go, he would effortlessly slip his hand into yours, the coolness of his palm making contact with your own as you walk side by side through camp.
i feel like percy's hands are pretty cool to the touch, so during the colder months he likes to hold your hand and tuck it in his pocket to shield you from the cold. like, he doesn't want to let go, but he also doesn't want you to freeze LMAOO.
percy's kisses are varied. sometimes they're slow, sometimes they're quick or urgent, and a whole lot more. but each time, they're exhilarating. percy also has a habit of pulling and playing with your belt or waistband whenever you kiss, and it always catches you off guard, no matter how many times it happens. even when you're in the middle of doing something else, he'll grab you by the waistband and pull you in for a kiss. and when he's not tugging on it, he'll run his fingers around it, dragging his fingers around the fabric almost teasingly, LIKE GAH ZAMN.
percy lets you draw on his skateboard!! listen, i know he's only mentioned as a skater like twice in the book, but i don't care. he is a skater boy in my heart.
his skateboard is absolutely LITTERED with doodles of your favorite bands, or any other designs that came to mind, as well as temporary stickers that are already starting to fade. but percy doesn't mind at all because it looks cool and you're happy! so that's all that matters to him. he loves looking down at the marks you left on his skateboard with a stupid smile, even if it means he gets hit by a wall because he wasn't paying attention.
when percy is in love, it becomes evident in his every action. he makes it a point to look for your face throughout the day, be it in moments of triumph or defeat. he only wants for you to witness him at his best, and no amount of applause or pats on the back from others can compare to the feeling of your touch; the gentle caress of your thumb across his cheek accompanied by words of praise, are what he craves the most. :(( he wants your validation and approval, but struggles to express it, because behind his front lies just an awkward teen filled with doubts and insecurities, desperate to prove himself to you.
but when he's in the water?? in his ZONE?? that's a different story. his confidence level SOARS. his water powers are in full force, and he's flipping around in the water trying to impress you like a little kid LMAOO.
to percy, you're more than just his partner. the thought of living without you is unimaginable to him, and he refuses to even think about it. his love for you only grows with each passing day, and he swears that he couldn't love you more than already does, yet he knows that he will tomorrow.
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annabeth chase
MY GF FR!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️
annabeth always loved you, but as time went on, her perspective on you began to shift. she loved the sound of your laughter, and the way you would enthusiastically recount your experiences of the day. there was something in the way your eyes would light up when you spoke, that made her heart skip a beat. at first, she didn't recognize the emotions that were building within her, but the second she tried to deny being in love with you, she realized she was.
meeting you, loving you, finally making you hers—made annabeth have a whole different perspective on love.
she always asks for your opinions first. all the time. she asks for your thoughts on her latest architectural design, questions your perspective on her favorite book. because she values YOU. your input matteres to her more than anyone else's because she knows that you understood her in a way that no one else could. (also i feel like annabeth lowkey mansplains sometimes so she's trying to make up for it lmaoo.)
if your hair is long enough to tie back, she'll match your ponytail to hers. <33 but if not, she'll run her fingers through your hair instead, twirling the edges around her finger absentmindedly. annabeth doesn't like accessories in her own hair, but she loves seeing them in yours !!
she's VERY careful when tidying up your hair. like, if you ask her to brush your hair for you, it'll take her a while because she's so particular about it. she just wants the best for you!! <3
annabeth is the best with cats idc. (doesn't she have two in ttc?) she'll kneel down to pet it, making that "pspspsps" sound to get its attention LMAOO. she'll literally scoop it up in her arms and cradle it like a baby.
if you're allergic to cats or simply don't like them, she'll keep a distance and pretend to share your dislike, meanwhile, she'll already have come up with a cute name for the cat in her head, probably something similar to your own. <33
annabeth isn't really big on pda, but she makes up for it with other acts of love !! she has a variety of love languages, each more prominent than the next, but her go-to move is holding hands. she'll gently pull you along on your museum date, explaining the origins and details of each monument with a proud smile !!
you and annabeth gossip about books. not people. and yes, i am telling the truth, she told me herself. (lie) she'll even read to you while you lay your head on her lap JUST so that you two can talk about it later.
but when it comes to architectural books, sometimes annabeth forgets that not everyone is as passionate about architecture as she is LMAOO. she'd be like, "can you believe that John Poulson bribed people for his work? i would never stoop to that level," and you'd just be sitting there with a polite smile on your face even though you have no idea wtf she's talking about. but she does it because she trusts you, not because she wants to confuse you LMAOO.
annabeth is never easily vocal when it comes to her emotions. while she can be sharp-tongued when expressing her opinions, when it comes to her feelings, most of the time she struggles to find the right words. sometimes, she's not even sure how to articulate what she's experiencing. the sudden rush of emotions she's feeling now, with you, can be overwhelming, to say the least. her love for you is intense, but annabeth wonders if it's enough to fully convey how much she loves you. if she loved you any less, maybe it would be easier for her to express herself. but the truth is, she loves you so much that it leaves her at a loss for words. a daughter of athena. at a loss for words.
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leo valdez
this boy practically has permanent heart eyes for you — it's insane.
i think we all know this, but leo's definitely not one to hide his admiration for you. he's basically in a constant state of awe whenever you're around. he thinks you're the absolute prettiest person on earth, and he's LOUD about it. like, before you started dating he definitely looked up one of those cringe pick up line lists at least once in hopes of impressing you. (they didn't work.)
howeverrr, leo's affection for you runs deeper than just your physical appearance. you're not just eye candy to him. he values your inner qualities just as much as your outer ones, and he's always reminding you about it !!
mentioned this in pt 1, but this boy is an incredible cook and EVERYONE knows it. because of that, he's super perceptive when it comes to your food preferences, knowing exactly what dishes you love and those that you don't care for. he'll transfer food from his plate to yours because he wants you to enjoy your meal, and he'll and also happily devour any food that you dislike, while simultaneously insulting your taste LMAOO.
like one time you went to the bathroom, came back, and saw that the amount of your favorite food on your plate just doubled. 💀💀
leo loovvees taking photos of you. (let's pretend demigods are allowed to use phones) like, he'll snap away until his phone's storage is filled to the absolute BRIM. if you ask him to delete any unflattering ones, he'll do so but while fervently defending his collection, insisting that he takes so many pictures of you not because he's searching for the perfect shot, but because you look breathtaking from every angle. :((
in addition to his digital collection, leo also has a cherished polaroid board covered in various pictures, but the majority of them feature you. <33
leo spends a lot of time tinkering in his workshop, so if he has any scrap metal laying around (which he often does) he'll stay up late into the night creating something special just for you !!
leo looovveess kissing your cheek with a pronounced "mmMWAH!" sound. onces he's done, he'll turn his head slightly and look at you expectantly, indicating that he wants you to do the same to him. <33
he was probably the first one to say "i love you." in the relationship. he might've said it rather quickly because he was always sure about his feelings towards you even before your relationship had officially started, but he never pressured you to reciprocate. he was willing to wait for you to come to your own conclusion.
but until then, leo never stopped expressing his love for you. every morning and every night, he would whisper a giddy "i love you, mi amor" before rushing off to wherever he needed to be.
once you do finally say the words back to him though, he's grinning like an idiot for an entire two weeks. he'd often repeat his feelings for you, almost annoyingly, just to hear you say those four words he cherished the most back, 'i love you too.'
(also, this image is so leo. yes it's a green flag to me, and no i will not further elaborate.)
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piper mclean
piper has a habit of linking arms with you !! like, wherever you go, the two of you are literally inseparable. she also sees it as a way to declare your relationship, because she's proud to be with you and has nothing to hide! <33 she's also a hand swinger fr.
she lets you cut her hair !!! mostly because she secretly loves the sensation of your hands on her face and your fingers weaving through her choppy locks, but also because she trusts your judgement! piper isn't afraid of alternating her appearance, but she especially want to look good for you.
speaking of alternating appearances, you two match outfits. all the time. is it sickenly cheesy? yes. do either of you particularly care? no. even when you aren't wearing matching outfits, you both have a collection of homemade matching jewelry, so both of you are always carrying a piece of each other, even if it's just a simple bracelet. <33
NICKNAMES IN FRENCH >>>> OMGG. her most used include "mon amour" meaning "my love", "mon ange" [my angel] and "ma chérie." [my dear/darling] and yes she is very much aware of the effect she has on you. <33 speaking of, she 100% helps you ace all your french exams. such a good gf.
she tells you all about her family history. piper loves how your eyes light up with genuine curiosity. with you, she feels more appreciated. :(( she'll you all about the culture, customs, and even a few traditional songs.
piper knows she has a good singing voice, but she still feels self-conscious whenever she showcases them in front of others. but when it comes to you? she'll sing all you want, since she feels a huge sense of comfort whenever you're around. whether it's through cuddles or other means, it's in your arms that she feels the most at peace, and it's also where she feels the most comfortable saying, "i love you." !!!
she teaches you how to use a dagger lmaoo. she'll carefully guide you, tell you how good you're doing (sometimes), and even sneak in a few kisses if she's feeling extra affectionate that day!!
piper hates being labeled as a typical daughter of aphrodite. she constantly feels the need to prove that she doesn't fall into the stereotype that comes with being a child of the goddess of love. but ever since you came into her life, ever since she started loving you, you taught her that she doesn't have to be ashamed just because her half-siblings fall into certain expectations. you've shown her that she should be able to be her own person without the restraints of being a daughter of aphrodite. and she might not always express it, but she's entirely grateful for that. for you. after all, we're all just fools in love, and you're the soul who showed her what love should truly be like.
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jason grace
ugh, the chivalry radiating off this man is crazyy.
whenever you talk to jason, he always has a way of letting you know that he's listening to your every word. even if he's occupied with something else, he'll make a point to let you know that he is paying attention to you. he'll immediately direct his gaze towards you, and abandon whatever task he was previously engaged in, leaning in closer to you the longer you speak.
even if you try to cut your story short or apologize for repeating yourself, jason will NEVER rush you or make you feel uncomfortable. instead, he'll hold you close with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, encouraging you to keep talking and sharing your thoughts. because jason doesn't mind hearing the same stories over and over again, as long as they're coming from you. <33
and even though he's always paying full attention whenever you speak, his gaze always seems to settle on your lips. and when you smile or laugh, he's completely mesmerized, unable to take his eyes off of you !! like you can LITERALLY see his eyes widen and his lips part, as if he can't believe how beautiful you are, because he can't get enough of you.
jason is the epitome of a gentleman FR!! 🗣️🗣️ he never fails to open doors for you, give you his jacket when you're cold, and even offer his hand as you make your way down the last few steps of the stairs. but that's only the surface level, we haven't even gotten to the real deal yet okayyy??
if you so much as utter a complaint about your feet aching or your shoes being too uncomfortable, he's already kneeling down, his broad back facing you with his hands gesturing for you to climb on for a piggy-back ride. he'll be running around camp like a lunatic, carrying you on his back or in his arms, but he doesn't care because he always puts your comfort and safety first !!
and if you happen to be walking through a cramped space with him in front of you, he effortlessly lifts you up by your arms so you can pass through without any trouble! what's even more impressive is jason's lightning-fast reflexes, especially when it comes to protecting you. if something is about to fall on you, he's always there to catch it before it can even graze you. and if you happen to trip, he swiftly catches you in his arms without making a fuss !!
his protective nature extends to the battlefield as well. even though he knows you're more than capable of defending yourself, he fights alongside you, ready to shield you from ANY harm.
whenever you hug jason, you always get lifted off the ground a few inches. like he almost doesn't realize he's doing it as he hoists you up off the ground with EASE. while you're just dangling from his arms LMAOO.
jason never fails to express his love for you verbally every day, but he also has a way of communicating it without speaking a word. he'll naturally reaches for your hand under the table, stealing quick kisses on your shoulder when no one is watching. even the way he touches you lingers, like he doesn't want to let go. and when you catch him gazing at you, and the transition of his grin to a subtle smirk AURGHJ!!
even before you started dating, jason fell for you and is honestly still falling, wanting you more and more with each passing day. all your flaws, mistakes, and imperfections included, he wants you. and only you.
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hazel levesque
hazel is the best gf ever!!! she hypes you up every chance she gets. like, she literally never misses an opportunity to boost your confidence. she finds beauty in the most subtle things, like the tiniest ring on your finger, and truly believes that you look absolutely stunning in it, even if it's not her personal taste since she grew up in a different era. but she's so open to exploring new fashion styles and modern ideas for you, and also so that you guys can match. <33
whenever hazel leans in to kiss you, there's a touch of hesitancy in her movements. not because she doesn't want to kiss you !! she just wants to make sure you're comfortable. :(( she's clearly trying to gauge your reaction and make sure that everything is going well.
she worries that maybe she was too rough last time, (SHE WASN'T AT ALL LMAOO) or that she's moving too slowly this time around. you honestly find it cute how she worries about such small things, and in response, you wrap your arms around her and kiss her back, immediately dispersing ALL her concerns. <33
hazel is soo pretty in red lipstick omg. the way she leaves lipstick prints on your cheeks and playfully pecks at the skin on your neck while laughing is so cute!
hazel wants the absolute best for you! but don't underestimate her, this is the same girl who died to stop gaea at 13, okay? she's so brave. she respects all your boundaries and will always prioritize your safety and comfort first!
horseback riding. all the time. hazel is the only valid horsegirl. she'll go on and on about them, from their behavior and habits to their history.. but nothing makes her happier than seeing you genuinely interested in what she has to say!! she feels so special around you. :(( you've spend countless afternoons horseback riding with hazel. it's definitely one of your favorite pastimes now.
hehe i can definitely see you sharing your interests to her, and even introducing her to modern music/bands. it's probably a shock for hazel to switch time periods and witness the evolution of music. like, there are times when modern songs makes her all shy and stuff. but your love for it has definitely been able to sway her perspectives! she probably picks up matching band shirts or records as souvenirs when returning from her quests. <33
hazel loves hugs !! they often begin with excitement, both of you giggling like children. but as time passes, the embrace transforms into a soft and quiet hold. there's always a subtle competition between the two of you to see who will let go first, and hazel always emerges as the winner. <33
if forever does exist, hazel wants it to be you. her heart is overflowing with a million emotions, all of which are directed towards you. through your gentle guidance, she's learned to appreciate the beauty in even the most ordinary moments. the thought of losing you is unbearable. she never wants to let go of you. not now. not ever.
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frank zhang
your guys' first date was definitely at an arcade/amusement park! he's hardcore blushing the entire time, while you totally crush him at all the activities. (he let you win) and, to top it off, he made sure to win you some impressive, oversized stuffed animals at the end!!
frank would pay close attention to all the details about you. like he literally knows stuff that you don't even remember telling him. 💀 even if you mention something in passing conversation, he'll make a mental note of it and remember it later on.
protective!frank standing up for others. anyone he cares about, including his friends and you. :(( he's not an angry person, sometimes he's even a little timid, so seeing him all loyal & passionate for those he loves really makes your heart swell up.
frank also leaves you sweet little notes frequently, and goes out of his way to get you lunch or anything else you might need !! sometimes after a long day, he'll come up behind you and wrap his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder and asking about your day. <33
bear hugs are frank's thing. both literally and figuratively. he's the kinda person who would wrap his arms around you, and if you don't object, he'll keep holding you tightly while taking a few steps to maintain balance. and before you know it, you'll both be tumbling onto the couch or his bed, with his chest breaking your fall. but instead of feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable, both of you start laughing, with frank hugging your waist even tighter in affection. <33
frank is really protective but in a subtle, non-verbal way. like, he has a habit of wordlessly moving you to the safer side of the sidewalk. and, even if it is not yet dark outside, frank will insist on walking you home, making sure that you arrive safely. he doesn't want to be overbearing, but he's also just genuinely concerned about your safety. :((
frank isn't really a pda guy, but he absolutely adores hand holding! it's a subtle way of indicating that he's yours and you're his. also, there's just something comforting about the feeling of your palm against his, and he finds himself tracing the curvatures of your hand as like it's a map he's trying to memorize. it's a small gesture, but it means the world to him !!
frank does almost every subtle manner. oh, you need a hair tie? he's pulling off one of yours from his wrist. having trouble carrying groceries? he's already there. it's like he has a 6th sense for when you're even slightly uncomfortable.
you're frank's safe place. he can literally feel his worries and fears melt away as you hold each other. you're all he ever wanted love to be, and he knows that as long as he lives, he'll love you.
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