#but if it's not healthy it should not be caffeine because it's supposed to calm you

[zirit]

If you're having a bad day, week, month or anything like that, I can offer a suggestion that usually helps me. Now, listen, I don't like therapy, I hate when people suggest to "just breathe" or "be mindful of your actions"... I'm going to add some things that might work best, but don't I ever do it to that extreme myself. If you feel like going all out, do, but if you don't feel like it, do the bare minimum or, you know, ignore my advice since it's what works for me and may not work for you, I won't be offended.

It's only a very small thing, it's doesn't make any pain go away... it's something I can do in 2-20 minutes depending on where I am, that I just use to clear my mind for a moment.

So, what I do is get some fruit juice, I prefer orange and even more so blood orange. It has to be fresh from a cooler, needs to be refreshing. I usually just think about how I want to drink orange juice because it feels nice, I feel like thinking about how I'm feeling bad and want to feel better won't work so well. I usually just take a deep breath to calm myself, as I don't like breathing exercises, but you can absolutely do that too. I think it works best if you keep something pleasant in mind, don't think about it too hard, anything that makes your mind feel less heavy will work. You can also be mindful of drinking, like, consciously drink, you know? I don't do that because it annoys me. What I do do, is take another breath after I'm done drinking as well as, since I usually drink about a big cup full at a time, in between sips. Not consciously, just letting my body do it. Once you finish drinking, you should hopefully be able to form a small smile without having to force it, and might be able to take a few minutes to just enjoy them.

I apologize for the terribly long text and hope you feel a little better soon. It's okay to feel down, emotions are weird. But it's also okay to tell them you're done now, the party is over, the sad can go home. ❤️ (By the way, you don't have to be sad to do this, you can also do it while happy or 'meh'. You deserve it.)

TL:DR Drink some fruit juice. ❤️

[thehealthcareinsights-blog]

6 Ways to Give Your Nervous System a Break

We all are raised in an environment where it is said that working hard is key to success

Because of this tendency, we usually forget to give our nervous system a break. Working tirelessly to achieve our goals and success for the organization while also handling our personal lives and the chores that come with it, 

Our nervous system is working 24/7 to process information from our environment and control our emotions. Working tirelessly can lead to constant stress and pressure Because of this, the nervous system can be submerged by issues like anxiety, depression, and many heart-related diseases

Like William James said, “The great thing, then, in all education is to make our nervous system our ally instead of our enemy.” We can make the human nervous system our ally by giving it time to pause. It is very vital to understand the role of the nervous system in the joy level of a human being. Therefore to make our nervous system our ally we need to find ways to reclaim our peace of mind. So in this article, let’s explore the six ways in which you can give a break to your nervous system. 

Enough sleep 

Sleep is what keeps our minds fresh and helps us recharge. When you don’t get adequate sleep, you cannot perform several functions, like concentrating or thinking clearly to make decisions.

When you have a diet that is perfectly balanced and exercise on a daily basis, it can lead to a healthy life, Sleep also prevents many health problems like stress, depression, headaches, and anxiety. When you get adequate sleep, it is said to improve your memory and cognition, which will help you improve your performance. So to achieve this goal, your body is supposed to get at least seven to eight hours of sleep and rest to your mind. 

Develop the habit of meditation 

The most vital way to make your nervous system calm is by practicing meditation and mindfulness techniques. 

One of the most crucial ways to make your nervous system calm is by practicing several mindfulness activities. Mediation is such an old technique, that was introduced thousands of years ago and has been practiced by many people around the world. The main motive of mediation is to take humans out of the maze that has occupied their thoughts and bring them to a more relaxed side of life. 

A person can feel more relaxed and have a positive attitude toward life when they practice meditation. Meditation and mindfulness techniques have various benefits for humans. It not only helps cure anxiety, depression, and headaches but also assists in curing physical diseases like heart disease, high blood pressure, high sugar levels, etc. 

Exercise regularly

Apart from calming the human nervous system, exercise also has numerous benefits, It not only controls your weight and reduces the risk of heart disease, but it also helps you boost your energy and helps you sleep longer. Everyone, no matter the condition of the body, should exercise regularly because it does not only help us lose weight but also keeps us energetic, and productive, which can help us achieve our goal.

Spare some time for nature

In this rapidly moving world, it is so sad that we have forgotten the treasure that is nature. Nature has miraculous healing abilities. 

Spare some time from your busy schedule and let yourself get lost in the beauty of nature. Go out in a garden and let the wind of moving trees touch your cheeks. Let yourself melt in the setting sun and Listen to the chirping sound of birds. This can help you connect with nature, which in turn is beneficial for your nervous system. 

Refrain from bad eating habits 

It is important to understand the harm that certain foods can cause. 

You should be very mindful of the things that you put in your system and the benefits and harm that come with them. In order to lead a healthy life, avoid drinking products like caffeine and alcohol as they have many bad effects on the human body, Caffeine is said to cause high blood pressure and restlessness in human beings and can mess up the heartbeat and sleep, schedules of a human being. 

In women, it is the reason for miscarriages and low birth rate

Women should be careful when taking caffeine and restrict drinking any products that contain caffeine. 

Restrict the use of electronics 

It is very important to realize the harm that social media and electronic devices can cause. You should be able to control your urge to use social media, not the other way around. Set a specific time for not using social media, especially during the three meals and before sleep

Spending time with family while having food can help you connect and engage with them and lift your mood, and it is very important to refrain from using any electronic devices before bed; this will help you have a peaceful sleep. 

Conclusion

In order to have good mental and physical health. It is vital to give the human nervous system a break. When you are committed to having good eating and sleeping habits and also spending time in nature instead of on your phone, you are on the path to healing your inner self, Turn down the volume of thoughts in your mind and focus on the present, Minimize the rush and maximize the rest. This mantra can help you have a calm nervous system, which can help you be productive in your life.

Visit More : https://thehealthcareinsights.com/6-ways-to-give-your-nervous-system-a-break/

[chaoticpuff17]

When the Chips are Down

Part 6

masterlist

hello, my darlings. I am on a posting streak apparently. Please enjoy the the reunion and confrontation we have all been waiting for--- chaotic puff

Y/N held her tongue for the rest of the day, choosing instead to remain cold and detached as Namjoon tried to establish himself in her good graces again, as if he had ever been there to begin with. He didn’t seem to understand that though. He was immensely pleased with himself under the false impression that she was jealous because of his dalliances while she was gone. If anything, he was the jealous one. You couldn’t be jealous if you didn’t care, and unlike her feelings for him, Namjoon cared immensely for her, however twisted and demented those feelings were. 

The day passed in relative peace after their midday confrontation, and slowly her first day back at the estate blended into her second. Miss In and Namjoon still tried to get her to eat breakfast, and she relented, eating a few pieces of melon along with a cup of green tea. Though she did have to sit through a lecture from Namjoon on how she should be careful with her caffeine intake. Eventually she snapped, reminding him that green tea had far less caffeine than a cup of coffee, and he left her alone after that. 

She was able to enjoy her morning in peace after that, retreating to the piano room to avoid Namjoon’s hovering. The room hadn’t changed at all in her absence. It was clean, evidence that it had been cared for while she was gone, though she doubted that Miss In would have left any corner of the house in disarray, but it was otherwise untouched.

 Thankfully it still seemed that the promise that this room was to be her sanctuary remained in place, and Namjoon left her alone. That didn’t mean that she was left completely undisturbed though. Miss In would pop in at regular intervals to see how she was doing, to bring her water or tea, to ask if she needed anything. It was far less annoying than Namjoon’s hovering, but it wasn’t quite the peace that she wanted. It was the best she was going to get though.

Eventually Namjoon himself came knocking on her door, pulling her attention from the book she’d distracted herself with. 

“I have a surprise for you, jagi.” he informed her, smiling sweetly, an expression she didn’t trust at all, but she got up and followed him regardless.  

He led her to the living room, a room that neither of them used very often which only heightened her confusion. 

Hoseok was there, and with him was a woman, a woman who was achingly familiar. 

“Iyla” Y/N’s voice was soft, shaking as she stared at the woman before her. How was she here? Why was she here?

“Y/N.” There was a pause before both women rushed to each other colliding and falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs as they clung to each other. 

“Oh god no.” Y/N whispered tearfully gently stroking her baby sister’s hair. “What are you doing here, Iya? You shouldn’t be here, baby.” 

“You never came home, and Jackosn stopped calling. Oh god, Y/N. Jackson is… he’s dead!”

“I know, baby. I know. I’m so sorry.” 

Hoseok and Namjoon stood back watching the two carefully. Both were ready to intervene if needed. Iyla was a wild child, and Namjoon didn’t want any unnecessary stress on Y/N or the baby. But both women seemed to be content to stay wrapped in each other’s arms shaking and crying on the ground.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to…” 

“Shhhh,” The older of the sisters hushed holding the other more tightly. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.” She promised even though she didn’t quite believe it herself. She pulled back carefully examining her sister’s face looking for any sin of stress or injury. “You’re okay? You’re not hurt?”

“I’m okay.” Iyla promised burying her face in her sister’s neck again. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, Iya.” 

Y/N rested her cheek on Iyla’s head gently rocking them side to side as they held onto each other. This was the last place she ever wanted to see her little sister, but she at least looked healthy and unharmed. 

Namjoon was vigilant as he watched the two women. Y/N was still newly home. She was tired and overly stressed already, as much as he hated to admit it. Being home was stressful for her. He was stressful for her. She’d settle with time. He was sure of that, but or now she was stressed, and as soon as she figured out that Iyla was now Hoseok’s woman, all hell would break loose which wouldn’t be good for the baby. Stress wasn’t good for the baby.

“Oh.” 

Both men tensed at the pained sound ready to jump in. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Iyla pulled back eyes darting over her sister’s form.

“I’m fine.” Y/N hissed settling a hand on her belly. “They just like to kick.” 

“Oh.” Iyla’s gaze zeroed in on her belly. “You’re huge.” 

“I’m pregnant.” 

“You look like a whale.” 

“That’s what happens when you’re pregnant.” A soft sweet smile spread across her face as she watched her sister fuss over her. 

As worried as Namjoon was it was interesting to  see his wife interact with her sister, and seeing them side by side he could see just how much they looked alike. They had the same eyes, the same hair, the same nose. Iyla was taller, not by much probably only an inch or two at most, but taller. To the untrained eye they could have been mistaken for twins, but the difference in hairstyles provided an easy out for distinguishing between the two. Iyla’s hair was long trailing down her back while Y/N had cut off most of her hair while she was gone. It hung in a shaggy pixie cut that had clearly been grown out from an even shorter cut. 

Namjoon still wasn’t sure what to think about the change in her hair. It was cute in its own way, but it wasn’t whatNamjoon preferred on her. It would grow out in time. Just like everything else in their lives, it would go back to normal. Everything had to go back to normal. He needed it to be normal, and so did she even if she didn’t quite realise it yet. Everything would be better when they were back to normal.

Things wouldn’t be back to normal for a while though. Namjoon wasn’t blind to the amount of work that needed to be done between them. Their relationship had always been tenuous at best, but it had deteriorated spectacularly before her escape. They needed to work on it. He wanted his wife. He wanted a stable family for their baby. Right now, he had neither. 

Namjoon was pulled from his thoughts as another pained groan filled the air. In a flash he was by her side, pulling her up from her position on the floor much to both women’s protests. 

“Y/N!” Iyla cried lunging for her sister only to be caught around the waist by Hoseok. 

“I think it’s time to go. Y/N needs to rest.” Namjoon declared keeping a firm hold around her. 

“I’ll take Iyla home.” 

“Home? What do you mean home? Where are you taking her?” Y/N was growing more distressed by the minute, and Hoseok was quick to drag Iyla to the door as Namjoon dragged Y/N deeper into the house. “Where are you taking her?” 

“They’re just going home, jagi. It’s okay.” Namjoon cooed trying to sooth her and failing. 

“No! She’s supposed to be with me! Where are they going?” 

“She’s exactly where she needs to be, jagi.” 

“How can you let him take her away?” She cried pulling against Namjoon’s hold forcing him to swing her up into his arms to get her up the stairs. 

“They’re engaged. Of course He’d take her home. She’s perfectly safe, jagi. I promise.” 

Y/N froze in his arms as they reached the top of the stairs, and he carefully set her down. “What do you mean engaged?” 

“Jagi…” 

“Kim Namjoon!” She barked whirling around to face him. “What do you mean engaged?” 

“Jagiya, you need to calm down. Stress isn’t good for the baby or for you.” 

“How could my baby sister be engaged to Hoseok?” 

Namjoon was no stranger to her fury, but even he was concerned by the venom in her tone.

“Jagiya, why don’t you sit down. I’ll have Miss In bring some tea…” 

“Why is my sister engaged to Hoseok?” She stood firm glaring up at him with a hand resting protectively on her belly. 

“Jagi…” 

“Answer the damn question, Namjoon.” She paused waiting for a response only to find Namjoon’s tired and worried gaze. There wasn’t even a hint of remorse in his eyes. “Oh god…” She breathed out as the horrifying realisation set in. “You gave my baby sister to Hoseok didn’t you?” Still no response, there was only a horrible damning silence that filled the space between them. “You gave my baby sister to Hoseok!”

“Jagiya, I really think you should sit down.” 

“How could you? How could you do that to my sister?” 

Namjoon was firm but gentle as he pulled her into his office forcing her to sit down. “I need you to calm down, jagi. Think of the baby.” 

“I always think of the baby!” She snarled even though she remained seated. “But I also have to think of my sister who you just gave away like chattel!” 

Namjoon scoffed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I didn’t even know you had a sister until Hoseok brought her here from GOT7’s headquarters. Any other secrets I should know about, jagiya?” 

“I was trying to protect her.” 

Namjoon paused in his pacing to level her with a stern look. “I don’t take kindly to lies, jagi.” 

“I don’t take kindly to kidnapping.” She shot back. “Figlio di puttana.” She spat under her breath cursing the day that Namjoon was born. 

“What was that?” Namjoon asked sharply.

A sweet smile spread across her lips. “Vaffanculo!”

“I may not speak Italian, but I still know when you’re swearing, jagi.” 

“Vaffanculo.” She repeated slowly drawing out every syllable of the word still with that seemingly innocent smile fixed across her features. 

“Jagi!”

“You kidnapped my sister and killed my brother, and you’re yelling at me for swearing?” She quirked a brow. “Is that really the issue right now?” 

“You’re sister came to Korea on her own, and Jackson ignored the terms of the agreement.” 

Y/ scoffed rolling her eyes. “Did Iyla come knocking on your door? And it wasn’t Jackson’s plan. It was Mark’s.” She watched Namjoon freeze in his pacing, shoulders tensed. “I called him. Jackson was only trying to help fix the mess you made.” 

“The mess I made? You ran away with our baby!” 

“You forced yourself on me!” She snapped back eyes flashing dangerously. “You tattooed your name on my shoulder! And this was all after you kidnapped me and blackmailed me into marriage! So yes, I would call this your mess.” 

She wasn’t blind to the hurt that flashed across his face, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. After every terrible thing he’d put her through, she just couldn't bring herself to care about his feelings. She shouldn’t be the only one suffering in this sham of a relationship. 

“Jagiya…” He took a step towards her, soft and pleading, but she was in no mood to placate him.

“Have you ever once stopped to consider the consequences of your actions? Or do you simply not care? You have ruined my life, and now you’ve ruined Iyla’s life too.” 

“We have a beautiful life…” 

“You have a beautiful life!” she snarled. “You got everything you wanted, but I’m trapped here, with you, and now you’ve sentenced my sister to the same fate.” 

“Jagi… Y/N.”

“I didn’t choose this. I didn’t choose you, but now I’m stuck with you just like Iyla is going to be stuck with Hoseok.” she huffed struggling to stand up, and Namjoon was instantly at her side ready to help her up only to be harshly pushed away by the irate woman. “Don’t touch me!”

“Let me help you, jagiya.”

“I don’t want your help!”

“Sit down!” he thundered, sending her a withering glare. “You’re stressing yourself out, and I won’t have any harm come to you and the baby!” 

“Then you should have left us in Italy.” 

Namjoon surged forward burying his fingers in her short locks and forcing her to meet his eye as he loomed over her. “I will never let you go. You are mine, my wife. This baby is mine.” 

“Get off me!” she harshly pushed him away pushing herself up with some difficulty. “Get the fuck away from me.” she spat moving to the other end of the room where his desk sat. 

“Y/N…”

“What did you expect?” she laughed eyes wild as she stared at him from across the room. “Did you think we were going to be a happy family?” she asked throwing a paper weight at him. “After everything you’ve done?” Next came a picture frame that had been situated on his desk, a photo from their wedding.

“Jagiya.” He held up his hands defensively. “You need to calm down.” 

“No.” she snapped, throwing another picture frame. “No.” she repeated more softly, looking away her chest heaving. “You have ruined me, and I will never forgive you for that.” Namjoon wanted nothing more than to go to her, to hold her, but even he knew that it would be a bad idea in this instance. She was worked up enough without him trying to touch her. “I tried. I tried to accept this and be a good wife, and look where it got me. You have taken everything.” 

“Things will be different this time. We’ll be different. We have the baby…” 

“My baby deserves more than this hellhole. I deserve more than this.” 

“We had a deal, Y/N.” He reminded her softly voice deep and calm even though he wanted nothing more than to shake her by the shoulders and yell. “I’m not the one who broke our deal.” 

“Well it looks like we’re both shitty people then.” She scoffed arms crossed over her belly. 

“I can’t undo the past, Y/N.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to calm himself down. “And I won’t let you go.” She scoffed again shaking with the rage and deep set hurt that had been festering since he’d first taken her. “Why don’t we make a new deal?”

“What?” 

“A new deal.” he proposed taking a tentative step towards her, scared to upset her anymore than she already was and cautious of any more flying objects. “We make a new deal, one to suit us both.” 

“And why should I believe that this one would be any better than the last?” 

“We’ve both made mistakes, jagi. Let me try to make up for them.” He pleaded slowly getting closer to her. “For both our sakes. For the baby.” 

“You’re despicable.” 

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But I love you, and I love our child.” 

“What we have isn’t love.” She laughed running a hand through her hair. “I hate you. I hate you more than any other being on the entire planet. And I don’t know what you feel, but it isn’t love.” 

“I love you.” He repeated earnestly taking a few more steps towards her. “And you’re my wife whether you like it or not. We’ll have to make this work, because I have no intention of ever letting you go again.” 

She grimaced in pain, a hand flying down to her belly. Namjoon was instantly by her side supporting her and leading her to his desk chair to help her sit down.

“What’s wrong? Is it the baby?” 

“I… I don’t know.” She whimpered as another flash of pain seared through her abdomen. 

“I’m calling the doctor. Just stay here, okay?” She nodded far too focused on the pain in her belly to care what he was doing. 

“Miss In!” he bellowed down the hallway, and quick as a whip the older lady appeared with a worried frown on her normally composed face. “Call the doctor. Tell her Mrs. Kim is experiencing pains in her belly. Call Seokjin as well.” 

“Yes, sajangnim.” She bowed. “I’ll bring some tea for her as well.” She bowed again hurrying out of the room. 

“Tell the doctor to hurry!” Namjoon ordered kneeling beside Y/N worriedly looking over her. 

“Yes, sajangnim.” 

“What is it?” Namjoon asked again one hand cradling her belly and the other gently pressed against her back as she hunched over in pain. “What can I do?” 

“I… I don’t….” She hissed curling in on herself more as another pain ripped through her.

Namjoon nodded to himself before scooping her up in his arms and swiftly carrying her to the bedroom. The doctor was on the way, but for now the best he could do was to make her more comfortable. Hopefully lying down would help, and hopefully she wasn’t in labor. The baby wasn’t due for another few weeks or so.

“It’s alright, jagi. It’s going to be alright.” he promised gently setting her down on their bed. “The doctor is on the way.” 

“Is the baby okay?” She whimpered clutching her belly. 

“The baby is fine.” he assured her, climbing onto the bed with her and cradling her in his arms. “You’re both going to be fine.” 

part 7

[mageofseven]

Brothers react to MC who has been running on little to no sleep and coffee for days but keeps saying they’re fine and not about to collapse

Decided to put these together since their prompts are pretty similar.

Also, Belphie's section kinda took it's own turn 😅 it's not bad, simply went heavier on the nightmare aspect of the one ask and doesn't really have much in the way of the caffeine or sleeplessness, but I hope you like it nonetheless~

~

Lucifer:

Not the habit of his that he wished them to mimick, if he's honest.

Is very worried about their health, both physical and emotional.

Confiscates the rest of their energy drinks and refuses to let them attend RAD the next few days so they can stay home and sleep.

Any arguements on the matter fall on deaf ears

And if they try the pull the "You do it too!" card since he often uses caffeine to get him through sleepless nights of work, he will remind them that he is a demon and his body can take a lot more strain than theirs.

Stays home with them to make sure they sleep; after all, he has been tasked with keeping them healthy just as much as he has with their physical safety.

Catches them trying to work on homework in their room on the first day and all but carries them to his room.

Makes them sleep in his bed while he does paperwork at his desk.

Whenever he'd hear them whimper in their sleep, he'd wake them and help calm them.

Has to do this a lot over the course of the next few days and becomes even more concerned.

Eventually asks if something is bothering his Love that is fueling these nightmares

And if they'd rather not talk to him about it, he offers to help them get in touch with a therapist that they can talk to.

Ends up setting the human on a better track physically, but acknowledges that their emotional wellbeing is more difficult and more so depends on what they are willing to do for themselves than anything he can do for them.

Mammon:

Oh lord, they got this boy worried.

Not that he will straight up tell them, but still.

Gets Lucifer to let the two of them skip school for a few days to try fix them up (normally this would be a hard no from the oldest, but even he noticed how sleep deprived the human was and knew that it was necessary to fix their sleep schedule and have them rest).

Mammon was the only one that knew about his Human's nightmares though and honestly, he wasn't sure how to handle that part.

Step one! Put down the Monster, human!

Step two! He's dragging them to his bed and they are staying put till they fall asleep!

After that...the Avatar of Greed has no clue what to do.

The man lays down with them and relaxes them enough to fall asleep.

He stayed by them, just in case. He tried laying in bed with them, but eventually the man got uncomfortable so he switched to walking around the room or sitting on the couch. He avoided leaving the room or doing anything too loud though.

When he first noticed their cries from the bed, the man dropped his phone on the couch before rushing over.

He hovered over the bed for a minute. Should he wake them? Is it better to let them them sleep through it?

But as MC let out another whimper, the man knew he couldn't just do nothing.

"Oi! Babe!"

The human woke with a start and clung to their boyfriend before they were even aware of it.

Mammon sat on the bed and let his Human lean against him and cry. He didn't really know what to say so he just stroked their hair awkwardly as they cried.

"Was it the same dream?" He mumbled once they calmed down.

Silence. How was he suppose to help if they didn't wanna talk about it?

"I'm sorry..." MC whispered.

"Don't be sorry, babe; just talk to me 'ere."

MC tugged at him so the two of them could lay back down together.

"I don't wanna think about it..."

The second brother shut up at that, feeling like an ass for pushing them. Of course, MC didn't see it that way though; they knew he was just worried.

Mammon stayed in bed with them this time, not leaving their side even once after they fell back asleep.

After about a week of focusing on sleep, MC gets better physically, but the nightmares were still an issue.

It helped having Mammon close to them though so they were at least less frequent. The demon still has no clue what they keep dreaming about that scares them so much, but his Human feels safer with him there so that's something.

Leviathan:

MC tried really hard to hide their issue from him so he didn't worry

But of course, the third brother isn't blind and eventually noticed the extreme caffeine intake and lack of brain power

Leading him to ask questions and finally make his Henry admit they've been avoiding sleep for the last few days because of some really bad nightmares.

Immediately blames himself. The Avatar of Envy falls into a pit of self hatred, telling himself he should know this stuff and that MC kept this from his because they think he's weak and worthless and--

Yeah. MC has to spend time and what literally energy they have assuring him that none of that is true.

It was a Friday evening so no school to miss. Instead, Levi gets MC to go to sleep early

Which they agreed...as long as they could sleep with him.

Cue the blushing. The couple had yet to actually sleep in the same bed together yet or in the case of his room, the same bathtub.

Didn't really feel he could say no though with his Henry needing him so badly though.

MC could feel their boyfriend's heart pounding from nervousness as they curled up in the tub together; it didn't really calm down till the human fell asleep and Levi heard their soft breathing. It was actually pretty calming.

Not enough for him to fall asleep though. I mean, this boy usually stays up all night playing video games.

Ends up playing a game on his phone with the volume muted.

Eventually feels MC pressing up against him in their sleep and crying into his shoulder.

The boy freezes.

What was he suppose to do?! Does he wake them?? But they need sleep! But they're having a nightmare! Gaaah

The demon debated this for a few minutes before finally shaking them awake.

Even when they awoke, MC still cried against him.

Surprisingly enough though, the human was willing talk about their dream.

The nightmare they kept having...was about about him leaving them??

The envy demon's brain was stuck on buffering...what did he just hear?

The man didn't even feel like he deserved them, but some part of them was actually afraid he'd break up with them?

Dude couldn't even wrap his head around it, if he's honest.

"That'd never happen... I'm not dumb or anything, Normie..."

Though he doesn't like that they've worried about this so much that started having nightmares about it...their boyfriend is also kinda relieved because of them? Like, the bad dreams are proof that they actually love him just as much as he loves them, despite his self esteem (or lack of) always trying to tell him otherwise.

Satan:

Caught onto things pretty quickly and tried to simply ask them to go to sleep at a reasonable time that night

Just to discover the next day that they had lied to him and stayed up all night doing school work.

Annoyed, the blonde becomes a lot firmer with them. No more caffeine.

Once the human started to crash, Satan led to his room and had them sleep in his bed.

"I don't want to...dream it again."

"What is it that you keep dreaming, Kitten?" He asked, eyebrows raised

But they had already fallen alseep.

Concerned, the blonde stayed right next to them, sitting on the bed and reading a book while his other hand on top of theirs as they slept.

At some point during the night when Satan was ready to go to sleep as well, he felt the human's body suddenly tense up and their breathing became heavier.

He got up to put his book back on the shelf and MC almost instantly cried out in their sleep.

He dropped his book down on a randomly pile before sitting back down, calling out to his Kitten and shaking their shoulder.

The human woke up and found themselves clinging to his leg.

Satan stroked their hair.

"Shh. It's okay, Kitten; you're alright."

When the human calmed down, he discovered that they have been having the same dream the last few nights--or they believe it to be the same dream. They always forget it once they wake up, but it always makes their heart race and they just cry till feel empty inside, like they are not even inside their own body, but hovering outside of it.

He could feel it, how disconnected they had now become from themself, the world, even him. They were with him yet not.

The next few nights, he runs different magical tests on them to see if he can find the source of these strange nightmares that seemingly force themself out of their own body.

He will get answers. Satan cannot leave his sweet Kitten with this issue.

Asmodeus:

One of the few brothers that MC never tried to hide their problem from, though partially because they usually sleeps in his bedroom so Azzy was woken up by their thrashing and cries from the nightmare a few nights before they tried to use caffeine and sleeplessness to fix their problem.

Keyword here is tried; their boyfriend refused to let them do this to themselves. He knew better than most how important sleep was for a person's health and beauty and wasn't about to let the human sabotage themselves.

Ends up lighting a calming incense and massaging their back and shoulders before launching into a talk session. What's the dream about? Has anything been making you stressed lately? Azzy needs to hear all of it.

Finds out that they've been dreaming about...well, their past with their family in the human world. Some bad memories that get twisted into something even worse in the dreams.

"Doll..." Asmo, still sitting behind them from the massage, wraps his arms around their waist and kisses their neck then cheek.

Has mega long vent session about their family in the human world. Asmo lost some precious beauty sleep, but it was worth it because when the two finally went to sleep, MC didn't have a single nightmare that night nor the next few nights after.

As long as the human vented every once in a while instead of bottling it up, his Dolly was able to sleep with no issues.

Beelzebub:

Another one MC shared a bed with and knew about their nightmares.

In all honesty, I just can't imagine MC trying to hide anything from him and make it far enough to even have the caffeine and sleepless night issue.

Beely is simply too caring and observant. He's also someone I'd personally have trouble lying to since he's so sweet and I think many others would feel the same.

Instead, the big guy would comfort them each night, waking them from their nightmare and hold them close for a while before asking if they want some water or snack.

He'd listen to his Muffin talk about their the nightmare if they comfortable with it and promise them that regardless of what the dream was about that they're safe with him.

Would probably go to Satan and ask what he knows about the topic and if there's anything he can do to help stop MC's nightmares.

The poor guys just never wants his Muffin to feel scared or unsafe, even in their sleep 😔

Belphegor:

Another brother they never lied to about it, but honestly, only because MC was never given the chance to.

I mean really, how do you hide sleep and dream issues from the freaking Avatar of Sloth?

The very first night they had the nightmare, Belphie was woken up by some of their thrashing and cries.

Instead of waking them up however, the demon used his powers to slip into their dream to see what was causing them to break down so hard in their sleep

And didn't like the answer he found.

When he peaked into their dream...he discovered that it was about that night. About the Incident™️.

He watched another version of himself with his hand wrapped his Human's throat, killing them all over again.

Honestly, the sloth demon isn't when he did it, but found his real self materialized in the dream and on top of his dream version, beating down on the fake him and eventually choking him till the fake simply disappeared in a puff of smoke.

MC was on the ground, regaining their breath as they watched the two Belphies fight. When the fight was over and the remaining Belphie was alone on the floor, crying angry and frustrated tears, the human got up and rushed over to him.

Belphie pushed them away, avoiding their hug.

"Dummy. You shouldn't try to comfort me. I haven't even told you this is a dream yet..."

MC had no way of knowing what was happening then was a dream so from their point of view in this small memory turned dream, Belphie was nothing more than a copy of the man who tried to kill them, but they still felt the need to comfort him...

Devil, he didn't understand them. Not in this moment in the dream or in the waking world. This human... after everything, how can they care about him? How can they love him?

"Dream?"

And with that, Belphie made them wake up and the two were back in the real attic, curled up in bed.

The man sat up and scooted over to the edge of the bed, feet on the floor and head in his hands.

It took the human a few moments to adjust to what just happened, but eventually they wiped a few tears away and scooted behind him, hugging their boyfriend from behind.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't. You didn't do anything wrong, Butthead..."

Man, what's wrong with them? Belphie just didn't understand them. His brain was stuck on a loop with that thought.

"Belphie, I know you're different. You're not the same now as you were that night."

"Yeah, but I still did it," He raised his head and turned around to face him. "And don't pretend that it doesn't matter anymore because you wouldn't being having a nightmare about it if it didn't matter."

Their boyfriend had a point. The Incident™️...it was a traumatic experience for them. I mean, they died. Yet because MC forgives him and has fallen for him, they try to so hard to downplay it so they won't hurt him, but in truth, all it does is drive the seventh brother crazy.

"...You're right. It does matter." MC said softly. "But not as much as you matter to me."

MC took his hand and squeezed it.

"I love you... I don't want you hurt over this anymore."

"What, like it's okay that you hurt over?" Belphie took his hand back and stared intensely at them. "Promise me. Promise you won't keep downplaying this and you'll let me...shit, I don't know. Do anything you need."

"I..." MC lowered their head. "Okay."

Belphie pulled his Human into a hug.

"I love you, Butthead." He mumbled. "Don't ever try putting me before your own feelings or even your mental health. I'm not worth that..."

[angelbaugh-writes]

There’s Something You Should Know (1/2) {Aaron Hotchner x Fem! Reader}

Summary: After a one-night stand with the BAU’s unit chief, Y/N believe that she will never have to see him again. Her plan to avoid even more heart break crumbles when they cross paths once more and Hotch sees her with a kid.

Warnings: some cursing, I think?

Author’s Note: This is going to be a two-parter! I hope you guys enjoy this. I’ve worked pretty hard the past couple days. The second part should be out later this week. Thank you so so much for reading! Xox Angel Baugh

    The first time you met Aaron Hotchner was on a case a little over four years ago. Having the BAU come to your precinct to assist with a series of murders was not something you expected to ever experience. It came as a shock when you had three killings in a month. The most you'd had to deal with was a calm robbery or domestic abuse situation. Luckily for your coworkers and you, the group of FBI agents was quick to catch the man terrorizing your city. The most memorable part of the case was not the bloody crime scenes you weren't yet accustomed to, but the attractive unit chief you worked alongside for six days.     Fresh out of a divorce, Aaron was eager to get to know you during the week he spent next to you. Lingering glances and subtle grazes caused rising tension to grow between the two of you. It became a waiting game. What happened in the hotel room once the unsub was arrested almost seemed inevitable. Shared kisses and his heavenly, but oh so sinful, touch left you dazed. The dream ended abruptly when you woke up to an empty room. No sign of him. No note. Naked and alone, you felt humiliated. The man didn't have the decency to say good-bye. He used you for a quick fuck, and that was the end of it. ***     The last thing you wanted to do was call in help from the bureau. A copycat had started killings similar to the ones nearly half a decade ago. Your team tried to find the person responsible for the deaths using the same strategies as before. Nothing you did got you any closer to catching them. With a heavy heart, you send an email with the attached files to the last person you ever wanted to see again. Nausea filled you when you got a response back saying the group will be arriving in a few hours to assist.     A phone call from the babysitter was the last thing you needed to receive. She had a family emergency and was on her way to drop off your daughter. Panic was all you felt. God was playing you. You were sure of it. There was no time to find a new sitter so late. Aria had come to work with you before, but that was when you weren't trying to catch a murderer. The secretary, Julie, would always help out on those days by spending time with the spritely four-year-old while you finished up pertinent paperwork. But she had been out with the flu for the past couple of days. You quickly cleared your office of anything grisly or sharp. After child-proofing to the best of your ability, you walked to the front of the building to meet your daughter.     "Hey, baby! Mommy has a really busy day today, and Miss Julie isn't here today. Would you be okay sitting in my office?" you spoke softly as you led her to the room.     "Okay!"     "Thank you, Aria. Maybe for my lunch break, we can go to the park down the road."     The toddler's face lit up, "Oh! Yes yes yes!"     You sat with her in the office, watching her color a picture of a unicorn carelessly. A small smile rested on your face. An hour had already passed when one of your officers showed up at your door.     "They're here, Y/N." You nodded, giving Aria a kiss on the head before exiting. Three nicely dressed agents stood just a few feet away. Straightening your outfit, you made your way towards them.     JJ was the first to greet you, giving a tight hug. Rossi kissed your cheek. Aaron gave you a curt nod. He hadn't changed much since you saw him last. The bags under his eyes gave away how tired he was. You'd heard about the death of his ex-wife. You wanted to send your condolences but felt that it was inappropriate to do so. His gaze shifted to your office, spotting the little girl perched in your big chair.     "We have the big meeting room set up for you guys. Feel free to ask for more supplies or help. My team is more than willing to help with anything you need," you spoke steadily. "I'll be all over the place today because something has come up last minute, but I'll be able to give you guys my all tomorrow." Rossi thanked you before pushing Aaron down the hall.     "She looks just like him," JJ said quietly. You choked on air at the statement. She was right. Aria had long, black hair and warm, brown eyes. She had your nose and cheeks, but her smile was a carbon copy of his. There was no denying that he was the father. Anybody would be able to see through the lie.     You turned to the blonde next to you, "Do you want to meet her?" An enthusiastic nod was what you got in response. Grinning, you strolled into your office. "Aria?" The little girl's head raised at her name being called. "This is JJ. We worked together just before you were born."     "Hi!" she greeted excitedly, going back to her new coloring page quickly. Cinderella was concealed underneath a mess of pinks and yellows.     "Hey," JJ spoke kindly, "You like princesses, too? I have a little boy that likes superheroes."     "Superheroes are cool, but princesses wear pretty dresses and shiny," your daughter said matter-of-factly.     "Baby? Mommy has to go work for a little bit. Will you be okay in here?" you asked nervously. Leaving her alone made you feel uneasy.     "I could watch her why you talk with Hotch," JJ offered.     You sighed, "Really? Thank you so much."     The walk to where the two agents would be was nerve-wracking. You didn't want to see Aaron. Knowing him, he'd already profiled you and your kid. There was no way he hadn't put two and two together. The talk that you would have to have with him was the last thing you wanted to do. Maybe you should just quit and move out of state. Knocking softly, you opened the door     "I brought some of the files from the case four years ago." The two men turned to you.     "Perfect! Is the coffee still down the hall to the left? I need some caffeine," Rossi continued to speak as he left. You mumbled a quiet 'bastard' under your breath. You turned to the tall man, unable to form any words,     He took a deep breath, "Y/N, you should know that I'm sorry about leaving that morning. I was scared and ran away instead of accepting my feelings. I want to make it up to you while I'm in town." You were thrown back by his bluntness. Sure, he was always very forward with his feelings, but you expected a simple hello first.     "Aaron," you sighed, "I'd love to talk about it. My hands are full, though."     "Oh, right. How old is she?" he asked even though he knew the answer.     "She's uh...just about to turn four in- in a couple of months," you stumbled over your words a bit as you answered. There was no use in hiding the information from an intelligent profiler.     He let out a shaky breath as your words settled in. You watched his expression change from confusion to shock.    "Is she-"     You cut him off, "Yes. I understand if you don't want to be a part of this. It's an unorthodox arrangement, I know. We've been able to get this far."     His heart broke at your words. If he'd known, he would have... Well, he didn't know what he would have done if he found out. He would have been mourning the death of his ex-wife around the time you'd given birth. There was no way he would have been in a healthy enough mental state to help you and your daughter- and his daughter. Aaron Hotchner was the father of two kids.     "Why didn't you tell me?"     "After days spent together, you left as soon as you made a move. Was I supposed to think that you would be willing to help raise a kid when we don't even live in the same state? You never messaged me, Aaron. I thought it was some fling," you mumbled as you wiped away a few fallen tears.     He stepped forward, eager to comfort you, "Y/N, I haven't stopped thinking about you since that night. I wanted to call you, but I had to put my son first. You know what that feels like. Jack and I both lost someone and I couldn't move on like that. He wouldn't have understood. How I treated you was awful, and I wish I could go back and change it."     "We should talk more about this outside of work, okay? I know you like to go over the case after hours, but Aria and I would love to have some company at our place."     "You want me to meet her?"     "I want her to be able to know her father, yes. I think we should take it slow, though."     "I'm okay with that."

[deliberatelyvague]

Please Eat (diavolo x fem!reader)

Started: April 4, 2020 at 10:10pm

Ended: April 5, 2020 at 12:19am

Word Count: 3,669

Ships: [Diavolo x fem!reader]

Trigger Warning(s): depression, eating disorders, self harm (cutting), stressful events

Author’s Note: Uh okay first thing: I’m sorry this is so long, it just keeps going. Second: I’m not sure if doing something this deep so quickly on my page is a good idea, but I’m going to do it anyway. Requests are open and appreciated!

—————

If anyone ever tries to tell you that RAD tests were easy to study for, the best thing for you to do is to either laugh in their face or ask them to tutor you. It might be because the tests in general are much harder than the ones administered on Earth, or maybe it was because you’re a human who hasn’t had any background to any of these topics other than the background taught in class.

And you paid attention, you took notes (when you weren’t distracted by Mammon, that is) to the best of your ability, and you asked for help when you needed it. You even stayed up almost all night the first time you had a test studying and revising your notes, rewriting them and even finding videos to watch on that subject. You had walked into the classroom the next morning, hyped up from (caffeinated beverage) and ready to kick this test in its butt.

The downfall of this attitude came when you looked at the first page of the test to not recognize almost any of the material, only a few things scattered here and there. You say in your chair, staring at the paper and trying to work your way through the questions, making the most sense out of them that you could, but it wasn’t helping all that much.

You weren’t surprised when your test came back with a barely passable grade, but Lucifer was. Oh, Lucifer laid into you for a good two hours, talking about how you were going to ruin Diavolo’s program, and that you should study harder next time and ask more questions. You assured him that you would, and he didn’t seem all too believing in your answer, but he let you be.

His speech stuck something into you, however. Something that you felt all too well in the human world: inadequacy. You felt terrible, you had tried your best, you had studied, but it still didn’t help anything. That night at dinner you heard all the brothers talking about the test, and even though you hadn’t done the worse (that medal went to Mammon, who even though he didn’t study or even pay attention in that class, still managed to only get a few point worse than you) you by far hadn’t done the best. Lucifer and Satan tied for that position. Asmo, Beel, and Belphie got somewhere worse than those two but better than you.

You picked at your food, not all too interested in it, your stomach filled with your old friend. You could feel Beel’s eyes on you, and then once you looked at him you noticed his eyes were actually just on your food. You took your napkin from your lap and placed it on the table next to your food.

“You can have the rest of my food if you want it, Beel. I’m not that hungry,” you say, and leave the dining hall, no one bothered by your exit. There was a sting of pain, but you quickly ignored it. You didn’t need to be their priority 24/7, that’s just ridiculous.

You went immediately to your room, sitting at your desk and looking over your test and then at your notes and textbook, to see where you went wrong. Turns out there was an entire section you had forgotten about, which was what almost the entire test was over. You made revisions on your test and slid them into a file to save for the final over that class, and started to read the next chapter in the textbook.

You idiot, you really didn’t double check that you studied everything? You don’t deserve to be here, you’ll tarnish Diavolo’s name. Worthless, they should’ve picked someone else.

You gripped the edges of your textbook, trying to shake the words from your head. You knew they weren’t true, but deep inside you, you couldn’t help but feel like they were true.

You tried to come up with excuses as to why you had just forgotten about that section, but you couldn’t. You had locked everyone out of your room except for Diavolo and Lucifer, of course, so that you could study. You didn’t have anything distracting you, no demon or phone (which you had hidden away in a drawer by the bed).

So you really just forgot about it? You should be punished for that. You know how to do it, so why not administer them yourself?

But you hadn’t self harmed in so long. You had been clean for multiple years now, and you hated the thought of ruining that for a measly test.

But it’s not just the test, is it? You have possibly tarnished the name of your beloved boyfriend, you broke the respect you’ve gone through so many lengths to build with Lucifer also. You don’t deserve to have either of them, or to be in this program. Just do it, they won’t notice. You need to be punished.

Silently you went over and got the razor out of one of the new pencils sharpeners you had bought a few days ago because you thought they were pretty, and they were having a sale. Moving over to your bathroom, you shut the door and locked it, bringing the blade to your wrist and slashing it a few times. You let out a small breath, an almost instantaneous relief washing over your body.

The dopamine that you had been drastically craving for so long flooded into you again, and you almost didn’t notice the knock on your room’s door. You quickly applied bandages to your wrists after you cleaned them, slipping the razor into the folded towels under your sink and pulling down the sleeves of your turtleneck. You were still wearing your school uniform, just without the jacket on top of it.

After being grilled for two hours and then having to finish homework before dinner you just hadn’t had the time to change. You stepped out of your bathroom to find Diavolo standing by your desk, his back turned toward you and one of his hands placed on something, looking it over.

You felt your stomach drop and you wanted nothing more than to curl up in your closet with a nest of blankets and pillows and just wallow in the darkness, but your boyfriend turned to face you, his hand now gripping the paper, a mask of confusion covering his face.

“I-I’m sorry, I know that grade isn’t acceptable, I thought I studied hard enough I just-”

“[Y/N], I know you studied hard for this test. You didn’t let me talk to you for a good three hours. What happened?”

Tears welled up in your eyes and he came over, wrapping his arms around you, one of his hands stroking the top of your head.

“I forgot an entire section from the chapter. I’m sorry,” You sobbed, and he shushed you.

“You don’t need to apologize, Princess. Sometimes that happens. It’s happened to me, it’s happened to Lucifer. Sometimes we just forgot.”

“But ‘Volo, I can’t forget. My mistakes look bad on the both of us, not just me. Imagine if that grade was worse, how tarnished this exchange program would be?”

His eyebrows laced together.

“Princess, your grades can always come back. One bad test doesn’t harm much, considering your grade in that class, it shouldn’t affect you much.”

You stayed quiet, biting on your bottom lip.

Don’t listen to him. He’s lying to you. That’s all demons do, lie. Are you really going to believe him over me, something you’ve known for so long?

You wrapped your arms around him, heat radiating off of his body. You didn’t believe him, he didn’t discredit that your grades could tarnish the program, so you would just have to make sure to study more. You could stand to skip a few meals, anyway. Then you could study and still manage to keep up your social life.

“‘Volo, no offense, but why did you come to my room anyway?” You ask him after you calm down a bit.

“I’m supposed to take you dress shopping for the ball coming up, remember?”

Suddenly the conversation the two of you had a few days ago came back. He wanted to instill some human school things, and you mentioned dances to him, and he was more than thrilled. He scheduled one for a few weeks from now as soon as he could gather the student council.

“Oh, yeah. I’m not changed or anything, just give me a few minutes, please. He nodded and walked over to your bookcase, filled with books from the human realm that you enjoyed, though some spots were vacant due to Satan.

You chuckled at him, going to your closet and picking out a long sleeved shirt and some skinny jeans, tucking in the shirt and making sure the sleeves covered your bandages.

“Alright, I’m good,” he turned and smiled at you.

“Beautiful, you know I love that color on you.” You blush and nod, taking his hand as he drags you to dress stores to find a base dress because “Barbatos can add anything you want to it.”

You felt bad, but then thought that Barbatos might enjoy something else to work on other than Diavolo’s issues.

You both decided on a simple long-sleeved crimson a-line dress, asking Barbatos to add whatever he felt would look nice. You had enough trust in him, and you’re sure that Diavolo will pitch in some ideas, too.

————

Your plan of skipping meals had worked well enough, you steered away from the brother’s questioning by grabbing a granola bar from the supply you kept in your room and showing it to them before you left for school each day. You packed a few grapes and other soft fruits for your lunch so when you were in the library you wouldn’t disturb anyone.

You had been studying enough that you felt confident in your next few tests in any classes, and your efforts paid off when you passed all of them. Lucifer seemed pleased, and so did Diavolo when you showed him.

You still ate dinner with the brothers when Diavolo didn’t invite you out, but slowly you started to lose your appetite. You didn’t want to eat. You’ve noticed how much trimmer your waist was, and how much clearer your skin was. You knew it wasn’t healthy in the slightest, but you felt better about yourself. And if you could improve your grades and lose a few pounds, it couldn’t hurt to do this for a few more weeks, right?

That night was a try-on for the dress for the dance, to make sure it fit you correctly with the shoes you planned on wearing and the add-ons didn’t take away from any place or attract eyes to any place you didn’t want them to.

You were met by Barbatos at the foyer, and he led you to the dress’s room. You gasped when you saw it. Underneath a light and on a mannequin stood your dress in all its glory: the red dress had black tulle added underneath to add a bit of volume to the skirt, and red flowers were embroidered to the chest area and the sleeves.

“Barbatos, this looks beautiful!” You exclaim, walking over it to feel the fabric.

“I told you she’d say that,” you hear your boyfriend’s voice, and you look over at him and smile, quickly looking back at the dress. “Are you going to try it on, or are you going to let the mannequin model it?”

You squeal and nod, Barbatos unzipping the back and leading you and the dress over to a division. You quickly undress and step into the dress and he zips you up.

You look in the mirror and frown slightly. It doesn’t sit on you like it did, and you expected that because you were losing weight, but you didn’t expect this much. It had only been a few weeks- maybe two or three- it shouldn’t fit you like this.

“Is something wrong, Miss?” You quickly look at Barbatos and shake your head.

“No, no it’s amazing,” you run your hands over the gap in the waist and the shoulders before stepping out from behind the curtains.

Diavolo’s face flashed confusion for the quickest of seconds before returning to adoration.

“Ah, that looks stunning on you, Princess.”

You feel blood rush to your ears and cheeks before Barbatos comes at you with pins, pinning it where it needed altered. He fit it so that it laid against your body like it had in the dressing room at the shop.

You thanked Barbatos when he was finished, and he brushed off the thanks, saying that it was his duty.

You walked with Diavolo back to your dorm, and he offered to buy ice cream. The thought of ice cream made your stomach rumble, but then the thoughts of how many calories filled it also came and you told him you were hungry.

“[Y/N], I asked Lucifer and he said you hadn’t eaten dinner for the past few days. I also find it hard to believe that a granola bar and handful of fruit can keep you filled at all. Why aren’t you eating?”

He had stopped and grabbed your wrist directly over where the scars were healed, but the skin still felt slightly tender. You winced slightly and pulled away.

“Princess, please. Talk to me. I won’t judge you,” he comforts after you stayed quiet.

Don’t tell him. You’re perfectly fine. You know you are. Why is it his place to tell you what’s best for your body?

You felt a sudden wave of anger so strong you wonder if there was a lesser demon of wrath around impeding your judgement.

“Why does it matter?” You snap at him. “I’m thriving right now, I’ve never done better in school and I’m managing to lose a few pounds. I’m doing good.”

He’s just jealous. He’s trying to hold you back.

“Why are you trying to hold me back? I thought you would be proud of me.”

“I am proud of you Princess, but you can’t sacrifice your health to make me proud. Please, Princess I’m worried.”

You roll your eyes and look at anywhere but him.

“Can you just take me home, please.”

His mouth opens like he wants to say something else, but instead just closes his mouth and nods.

“Of course, Princess,” he comes over to you and laces his fingers with yours, and you walk in tension.

He kisses you when you reach the gate of the House of Lamentation, and you part ways.

—————

You didn’t have another issue until the next night, when you were setting up a small nest of pillows in your closet. You had put a light in there and made it a perfect place to study, other than your desk.

“Hey, Normie, Lucifer says you have to come to dinner tonight,” you hear Levi’s voice call to you through the door.

You huff and call back that you weren’t hungry and you could practically hear Levi’s eye roll through the door.

“He said if you said that to send Mammon so he could pester you, so I think I’ll just save you the agony of that and just tell you to come now.”

You scoff and pull on a flannel, buttoning it up over your sports bra you had been wearing.

You open the door and walk with him to the dining room, sitting at your place. You could feel all of the brother’s eyes on you, and you could hear Asmo whimper slightly.

“[Y/N], what have you done to yourself?” You hear him whisper, and you choose to ignore him. You hadn’t seen any of them but Lucifer for at least 5 days and that’s what he chose to start whatever conversation they planned on having with you?

You look at the plate in front of you, it was spaghetti and a side salad with garlic bread. Coincidentally, one of your favorite meals on Earth.

You pick up the fork to the side of your plate and place the napkin on your lap, stabbing a tomato from the salad and putting it in your mouth. You could still feel the eyes of the brothers on you.

“Why are you all staring at me? Please stop,” you ask them, and they almost immediately diverted their gaze to their food where they started to eat.

You finished the salad and took a bite of the garlic bread, almost gagging immediately. Not because of the taste, you noted. So why had you gagged? You placed the garlic bread down before taking your napkin off of your lap and setting it beside your plate.

“You think you’re done?” You hear Lucifer ask. You frown and look over at him, your heartbeat picking up in your chest.

“Yes? I’m not hungry. I wasn’t planning on coming to dinner but you made me anyway,” you told him, and pushed away from the seat.

“No, sit back down. You’re not done eating,”

“Yes I am, Lucifer,” you shot back, but you didn’t move from your seat.

Suddenly you were overloaded with all of the brother’s pleas that tried to make you eat. You felt the room start to spin as you look at the plate of food. You could only imagine the embarrassment of trying on that dress and it not fitting correctly, of you looking like a laughing stock next to Diavolo in an ill-fitting dress.

“[Y/N], please, you have to eat.” You heard a brother say, and to be honest you couldn’t remember or discern which one it was. All of their voices were melding together.

“No! I don’t have to do anything! I’m not fucking eating okay? You’ll have to deal with it. I can’t. I can’t eat this food, I’m sorry. I’m leaving.”

You stand up from the table, rushing out of the room and to your room, fastening the lock on your door that even Lucifer couldn’t get through with his powers, only Diavolo. You went directly into your closet after grabbing the blade from the towels and shut the door. You were in almost pitch black other than the little sliver underneath the door, but you didn’t bother turning on the light before you cut into your wrist. But you didn’t feel the dopamine this time, so you made another one.

Your movements were in such hysterics at this point that you didn’t notice how many you had made and how bloody it had gotten before you heard your door open and a bunch of feet come running in.

“Princess,” you hear Diavolo’s voice.

“Please, make them leave. Please,” you whimper out, loud enough for them to hear. You hear a few pairs of feet leave and a door close before Diavolo opens the door, looking at your wrists.

“Princess-” he started, and you sobbed.

“I’m sorry, ‘Volo, I’m so sorry, I just-”

“It’s going to be alright Princess,” he soothes you, and thankfully the cuts weren’t that deep, they had already stopped bleeding when he rinsed them in the sink.

He brings you to your bed after he puts ointment on the cuts and bandages them.

He sits leaning against the headboard and brings you to his lap and leaning against his chest.

“Princess, I don’t expect for you to talk to me unless you want to, I’ll wait here as long as you need me to.”

“Are you angry with me?”

“No, no! Of course not. I’m more disappointed than anything. Princess, you know you can tell me anything, and I’m saddened that you thought that the only resort you had to take whatever you were feeling out was on yourself.”

“I didn’t want to burden you. You have so many duties.”

His hand came up to rest on your hair, stroking it and rocking you slightly.

“All of my duties can be waived. I can always deal with my duties at another time, but how would I be able to console you if you are dead? How am I supposed to help you, Princess? I don’t want to lose you. I’m watching you waste away to nothing right in front of me and I don’t know why, I don’t know anything!”

“I just feel a lot of pressure from school, I guess. It’s a lot of changes at once, and I was never very good at changes. Then I started studying more in place of meals, and I started losing weight, and I liked the results. But now I can’t eat more than a few bites of anything substantial at mealtimes, because I’m scared I’ll look like an oaf standing next to you in my dress if I gain any amount of weight.”

“Princess, you shouldn’t treat yourself like an object. You aren’t just any ‘exchange program member’, you’re my girlfriend. You’re the one I want to marry, the one that will carry our children eventually. You aren’t an object to make me look better, you are your own self. You shouldn’t base your value or how you treat yourself off of other people’s perception of you or how you think they perceive you.”

You stayed quiet for a good while, thinking about what he said. You leaned back away from him, looking into his beautiful golden eyes, bringing one of your hands up to rub your thumb on his cheek bone.

“Can you help me, please? I need help. I don’t think I can do this alone.”

“Of course I’ll help, Princess. Everyone will help. Lucifer, Satan, Asmo, Beel, Belphie, and I’m sure even Mammon and Barbatos will help in their own ways.”

You smiled slightly.

“I love you,” you tell him before laying back on his chest.

“I love you too, Princess.”

————

This was written by me in no way trying to romanticize mental illnesses. I try to write what I feel would help me in the moment. I completely understand that mental illnesses don’t just ‘disappear’ when you’ve figured out that someone loves you or someone helps you once- that’s why I don’t write what happens after in most cases. If you are struggling, please reach out to anyone you trust, or call a hotline.

[whereflowersbloom]

Hypermarket adventure

When Tim Drake woke up that morning he had no idea he would have to buy a new coffee maker because the one they had was unusually broken. Damian Wayne. A faint headache pounding behind his temples as Tim massaged them, exhaustion sinking deep in his bones, and wonders how long it's been since he had more than four hours of sleep. Damian was responsible for this, one of his secret schemes to make him stop consuming caffeine. Tim was sure it was his fault, so the broken coffee maker refused to give him the fluid of life and he had lost it...and maybe Tim destroyed it with vicious vengeance. In his defense, he had been up for more than twenty-four hours. Sleep later coffee first.

So naturally he announced to Alfred he would be making a quick trip to the store to get a new one, politely asked the British man if he required anything from the store. Alfred seemed to consider the offer for a solid minute before asking him if he could get some groceries and essentials on his way back home. Handing him a list. Before he walked out of the manor Dick volunteered affably to accompany him, convincing a grumpy Jason, who was comfortably sitting, reading a wrinkled newspaper, to tag along. Jason surprisingly agreed, with the condition he was the one driving. Alfred rapidly suggested to take the demon spawn with them, he could use some frest air. Now things could only go downhill from this point. This piqued Steph’s interest, who casually commented she had nothing better to do. Soon they were on their way to the closest hypermarket.

Dick was there to make sure Damian didn’t behead anyone and get enough boxes of cereal he could hide before Alfred looked at him with disappointed eyes. There’s nothing worse in this world than Alfred’s disappointed eyes. The old man claimed ‘It’s not a proper meal nor healthy if it contained high levels of sugar’, but the companies also tended to fill them with vitamins, calcium, iron and folic acid. Therefore it was a fortified food! It had everything he needed for a balanced meal in Dick’s opinion. The extra sugar was even good for him considering how many calories he burned.

“The sword stays in the car, Damian.” Dick commanded, taking away the blade from twelves earth-old before he sets a foot out of the automobile, which was responded by a ‘TT’.

“Did we really have to bring shortstack?” Jason complained, voice etched with irritation, index finger pointing at Damian.

“As if I would agree to lower my nutritional standards because you fools failed to purchase the provisions Pennyworth demanded which is why I have it in my power.” Damian logically explained, grinding his teeth and waving the list at Jason.

“Don’t stab anyone.” Dick ordered with authority.

“I make no promises, Grayson.” Damian muttered dryly crossing his arms over his chest.

Damian cannot comprehend why would Pennyworth think he was needed to carry out such a simple task, he supposed if his siblings lacked the basic function acquire the list of edibles Alfred gave them and simultaneously behave in public, then he could supervise them. He was already here with them. Nothing to do about it.

“Did anyone asked Cass if she needed anything?” Dick questioned them, clear blue eyes looking at them expectantly. Cass was probably still in her bedroom resting, after staying up with him analyzing some cases.

“Oh how thoutful of you. You weren’t that nice to me, not even after I died.” Jason commented, his voice dripping with sarcasm and bitterness.

“Jay, you gotta stop bringing it up.” Dick reasoned as he placed a hand upon Jason’s shoulder, offering a small apologetic smile.

For once, Damian was quiet, observing the older brothers bicker over such a insignificant matter. Stephanie stifled a snort at their immature antics. A muffled ‘crybaby’ escaped her mouth, but only Tim, standing next to her was able to hear it.

It took everything Tim had not to roll his eyes and simply walk away. Why was he here with these troublemakers? Right. Coffee. The thing she had to endure for a duo of black coffee.

“I texted Cass. She wants pop tarts.” Stephanie supplied, eye glued to the screen of her phone.

“If you get lost. I’m leaving you here, losers.” Jason threatened with narrowed eyes, a faint glow in his blue-green eyes. Five minutes after parking the car, the siblings marched inside the hypermarket. Tim sighed wearily, silent calculations running through his mind, how long it would take them to leave the store with the groceries. Dick promptly grabbed a shopping cart.

~~~

Jason Todd was ready to shoot Dick Grayson if only he had a gun between his hands. Why the fuck did he even agree to come with these lil shits? Clearly, he wasn’t in his right mind. He was doing this for Alfred and Jason could never say no to Alfred. It was an easy task: read the list of essentials Alfred wrote down, grab the items, deposit them inside the fucking cart and pay for them. Piece of cake. But here he was in the middle of dairy aisle, listening to Dick asking him all sort of stupid questions. His patience dangerously wearing thin.

“Why is milk five dollars a gallon?” Dick exclaimed with shock as he examined the dairy product’s label.

“Who cares? You’re rich, money shouldn’t be a problem, dickhead.” Jason replied annoyed, there goes ten minutes of his life, stuck in the dairy aisle with this enthusiastic fool. Where did Damian and Steph go? Dick had thrown several boxes of cereal inside the cart, including: Cheerios and Waffle crisps, the latter was Steph’s petition. Who in the bloody hell needed fifteen boxes of cereal? Wait a minute, is that coffee flakes? That one had to be Tim’s idea.

“How do you exactly milk an almond though?” Dick asked with furrowed Brows, concentrated on the product, as If he was trying to decipher a secret code.

The desperation and bewilderment in Dick’s voice made a Jason raise an eyebrow. He would kill for a quick smoke. Not like he was seriously considering smoking inside the store. He could wait a few more minutes.

“I’ll explain out to you when you finally become a functional adult.” Jason breathed. Around them, the store buzzed, bright lights shining above and people murmuring and talking, nobody had recognized them so far. Even Jason felt a twinge of irritation at being here, and he wanted to get this shopping trip over with so he could go home.

“Who wants bacon?” Stephanie came out of nowhere, asking with a juvenile glee in her eyes as she dumped ten packs of bacon. Damian wouldn’t be happy about this.

“Where is the gremlin? We should have put him inside the cart.” Jason tried to keep a calm voice, looking around for any sign of little D. Jason had a bad feeling about this, settling at the pit of his stomach. He let out a deep breath and decided it was the moment to have that cig. So two missing, Damian and Tim. There it was that nagging voice was a constant in the back of his mind, reminding him of his responsibility, look after adoptive relatives.

“Steph, make sure replacement didn’t fall asleep at the Kitchen appliances section.” Jason commanded. “Dick, it’s your turn to supervise the rascals.” Slowly making his way towards the alcohol section, he could use a drink right now. Now, find an unpacked corner where he can have a smoke.

“What?” Dick exclaimed, suddenly finding himself alone in the dairy section. Where did everyone go?

~~~

Dick was passing by the cereal aisle again, because you can never have enough cereal. Perhaps he should get more lucky charms? Cinnamon toast was a must. Nobody in this family understood the enjoyment of ingesting artificially colored cereal. He was about to grab another box of fruity pebbles, lost in the paradise of cocoa, cinnamon and colored cereals, when abruptly a feminine voice brought him back to earth. He turned to catch a glimpse, eyes focused on the petite woman: average height, brunette, mid-twenties, freckled-cheeks, small gray eyes widened in irritation. This looked like trouble. What did he do?

“Excuse me, sir. Is this kid your little brother? We caught him bothering other customers at the meat section.” The petite employee questioned him with raised eyebrows, hands on her hips. Dick blinked puzzled. What. He kept his eyes fixed on the woman.

“When I asked if he was here accompanied by an adult. He pointed a finger at you.” Dick spotted then Damian, standing next to the woman, lips pursed, arms folded against his chest, glancing away, fleetingly looking younger than he actually was. Like a small child who was severely reprimanded for inappropriate behavior. What the hell Damian...

“I merely reminded him the innocent chicken between his hands deserved a life free from torture and suffering. We have the moral responsibility to protect animals!” Damian spoke plainly as he corrected the woman who dared accuse him of harassment.

“Damian, sto-“ Richard chimed in when he was interrupted by Damian’s animals rights speech.

“Allowing an animal to suffer is unethical and cruel. It’s slaughter! You are causing them unnecessary distress. Their throats are slit mercilessly! All animals have the ability to suffer in the same way and to the same degree that humans do.” The young Wayne continued, grumpily making eye contact with the uninformed store employee. Blue eye flicked between the two, the brunette seemed to be about to explode, Damian’s body language tightened, there was a crackling in the air and Dick instantly knew it was not going to end well. Shit. He ruffled his hair nervously.

“Damian no.” He pleaded urgently. Beads of sweat running down his forehead and cheekbones.

“Sir, could you please take your younger brother? Customers are agitated and perturbed by his presence.” The employee politely asked him but Dick could tell she was utterly irked at this point. Dick nodded and draped an arm over his little brother’s shoulders. Yeah, he was definitely taking him far, far away from her. Praying Damian kept his mouth shut and didn’t screw up even more. Predictably, Damian didn’t leave it alone.

“Again, as I explained earlier. I was elaborating on the numerous health and environment benefits of adopting a vegetarian diet.” Damian corrected her with trembling lips, green eyes filled with anger. This woman didn’t comprehend the great importance of saving an innocent life. Tsk. Father said even if someone is being disrespectful or crude he should not sink to their level, but this lady was being rude.

“Aren’t you one of Bruce Wayne’s ward?” The woman spoke with narrowed gray eyes, taking a step closer to Richard, studying closely the features of the older man.

Oh fuck. Unfortunately, she recognized them. Dick held up both hands defensively.

“I am the blood s-“ Damian was about to clarify when Dick rapidly covered his mouth with a large hand. “We are leaving now, Damian. Thank you, lady. Have a nice day.” He muttered hurriedly before running off.

~~~

Finally, Tim was getting in line for the cashier, the precious coffee maker in his arms, he could make himself a decent cup of black coffee as soon as they got home. A satisfied smile almost curled on his lips when he recognized the familiar sound of his siblings yelling, if his ears didn’t fail him and they never did. Oh no. Tim held a stiff nervous expression as he slowly turned to face them. He quickly scanned the scene, eyes wide in alarm. Remain calm Tim. Stephanie being escorted by a security guard, clothes stained, next was Jason groaning at the guard that tried to touch his leather jacket, followed by an embarrassed Dick with flushed cheeks, lastly Damian being dragged against his will. “Let me go! I can walk out of this questionable establishment myself.” Damian protested with boiling anger, glaring daggers at the security guards. His sword was inside the car. Good. No opportunity to behead anyone and commit a crime. Jason and Stephanie were clearly pissed. Dick pressing his face against a wall, undoubtedly ashamed.

Tim momentarily contemplated leaving the store with the coffee maker, a few seconds later, he couldn’t find it in him to abandon them to their fate here. Sigh. With the heavy weigh of his burdens, Tim approached a female employee. “Excuse me, those are my siblings. Could you explain to me what exactly they did?”

“Sir, this young lady here organized a shopping cart race along with some children in the middle of the vegetable section.” The angry store employee began, detecting unfiltered rage in her tone, as she pointed a finger at the blonde teenager.

“I did nothing Jason wouldn’t have done.” Stephanie told him, briefly exchanging glances with Jason. Jason bit down on his lower lip to repress laughter, whispering an almost inaudible ‘amateur’. Stephanie shrugged it off as it was unimportant, instead of trying to come up with an excuse that contained any sense of logic.

“This man was deliberately smoking inside the store.” Tim studied Jason’s amused expression. Probably not the first time he was caught doing it. “I mean she isn’t wrong.” He pointed out calmly, Shrugging broad shoulders nonchalantly.

“I found the kid tormenting customers at the meat aisle, he fled with the man with cereal fixation.” Before Damian could utter a word in his defense. Dick shut his mouth. Richard’s eyes silently expressing a wordless ‘don’t ask’. Tim was way too exhausted to deal with this. His body shaking with small movements for a second, stay in control. No time to collapse, solutions not more problems.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you and the rest of your relative to leave the store. And please do not come back.”

Tim fluttered his dark cerulean eyes close, feeling a very sharp pain in his temples. A recurrent migraine coming, cursing lowly for not stopping at the pharmacy to get aspirins. How is that he is the only rational and almost-functional person in this family. Coffee, coffee, coffee was the only thing he could think about. Less than fifty minutes and the Wayne’s discovered a way to get themselves banned from a Hypermarket. Likely setting a new world record.

Looks like they wouldn’t have the chance to go grocery shopping as a family any time soon. Not like it was a brilliant idea to begin with. They would have groceries delivered next time.

Here @sofiii 👀👀👀👀🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

[news4bees]

Things I do to make my ADD/ADHD slightly more manageable.

Full disclosure: everyone is different and non-neurotypical behaviors are not a copy-paste situation. What works for me might put others in the exact opposite head space and that’s okay. I just wanted to share what I’ve learned works for me over the years. I’ve been really struggling with my ADD/ADHD lately and I need to remind myself of the healthy coping mechanisms I’ve developed so I can implement them again.

1. Have a morning routine.

Working from home as a freelance editor / publishing consultant, I have a lot of autonomy over my day. Which is great… if I make the most of it. I learned a long time ago that I am most productive in the morning, so it’s important for me to get myself into the right head space as soon as possible. I set an alarm to get out of bed at 7:00am every day, I try and go on a walk around the neighborhood first thing (weather permitting—we don’t mess around with rain or snow), I eat breakfast (usually including either coffee or tea for caffeine purposes and warmth) and take my supplements, and prep for my day. It sounds super simple, but it’s really all about inertia. A body at rest will want to stay at rest. I’ve had just as many days where everything goes according to plan and I’m able to have a productive day as days where I don’t get out of bed until I have to drag myself to my service job in the afternoon. So having that morning routine and sticking to it can honestly be a night and day difference for me.

2. Make a schedule for my day.

I have a terrible concept of time. I can look at a task, assume it’s going to take several hours, and abandon it before I even begin. Or I can see a gap of time in my day (such as the two hours between lunch and when I have to get ready for work) and be worried it’s too small of a window to accomplish anything so I lie around instead. By creating a schedule, literally an hour-by-hour layout of how I want my day to progress, I have a tactical roadmap for how to achieve my goals. I also make sure I schedule little breaks and time to eat, walk around, shower, etc. into my day so I don’t forget. It doesn’t have to be perfect, and I have to remind myself not to get upset if I end up deviating from the schedule for one thing or another. It’s mainly supposed to help me look at my day in a way that makes more sense to me and how my brain processes time. I fully understand that there are others that might see my hour-by-hour schedule and be completely overwhelmed—that’s fine! Find what works for you.

3. Set attainable little goals.

This one goes hand in hand with making myself a schedule. If I have a giant task I need to complete at a future date, I really struggle with conceptualizing it as something I need to get started on now. I see that future date, feel overwhelmed, try to calm myself down by thinking, “It’s okay, I have time,” and will sit on that task until the last minute when I have to scramble to get it done. It’s procrastination, yes, but it’s also not feeling too overwhelmed to act on something until there is that “go go go!” anxiety-inducing pressure to get it done. So I break it down into smaller pieces and set little goals. A 352 page manuscript I have to create an index for by March? Scary. But indexing one or two chapters a day? Much more doable. This also helps me accomplish non work-related tasks, such as calling the bank or scheduling appointments or canceling a subscription—things I would have trouble accomplishing on my own otherwise because my I have trouble differentiating between “important” and “immediate”. Goals don’t have to be solely task oriented either. Set a goal to reach out to a friend you haven’t connected with in a while; set a goal to meditate for fifteen minutes, or be intentional about doing something you love like reading or art or exercise. Personally, the more things I can check off my “to-do” list the better, so I write out everything I want to try and get done, even if I would have done it regardless.

4. Keep distractions out of reach.

This one is extremely tricky for me since I work exclusively out of my room since I moved back home. I’m always surrounded by distractions, from my phone to my bookshelves to the dozens of internet tabs I constantly have open on my laptop. I have little tricks I know work for me: keeping my phone on the charger in a different room (but close enough that I can still connect to the Bluetooth), leaving the book I’m currently reading and the journal where I write my fiction in my work bag downstairs, blocking YouTube and other distracting sites from my laptop, and making my bed each morning so I’m not tempted to crawl under the covers when I’m feeling burnt out. But knowing these things will help eliminate distractions and actually implementing these techniques are two very different things for me. As I write this, my phone is on the charger next to me, my fiction journal is within easy reach and I have corresponding document opened in another tab, none of my site-brokers are enabled, and my bed is a mess of cozy blankets—all major distractions for me that I’m blatantly ignoring. So what can I do about this? Set a new goal: move my phone and journal out of the room, close unnecessary tabs, re-engage the site blockers, and make my bed. Little things to reset my headspace and get back on track.

5. Have an accountability buddy.

While freelancing gives me a lot of personal freedoms, it also means I function as my own boss. Some people might enjoy such responsibility, but I personally really struggle when I’m not constantly checking in with someone and showing them my progress. An accountability buddy doesn’t need to function like a micro-managing boss, but they should be someone you can go to and say, “Here’s what I set out to do today and here’s what I accomplished.” Currently, I do not have a good accountability buddy (my ex was my accountability buddy when we were together during my last semester at college, but he often criticized me for only working in short sprints and needing to take a lot of breaks, so I’ve been really hesitant to trust another person in that role ever since), but my mom often lets me inform her about my goals and will share some of her’s in turn; my dad and sister on the other hand get uncharacteristically angry when I ask about goals, so I’ve learned to steer clear. Mirroring is also a common strategy for ADD/ADHDers. The visual stimulation of seeing someone else working can often be a bit of a jumpstart to my brain that says, “Okay, it’s time to do things.” In the old days, this meant I would spend hours in the library or at coffee shop doing my homework instead of my apartment because I was surrounded by others with similar tasks. Now, if I find myself needing a mirror I’ll move my operation to the kitchen table so that I’m closer to where my mom works and I can feed off her productive energy, so to speak.

6. Give myself grace.

Whenever I have an unproductive day, my first instinct is to be angry or upset at myself. What kind of person spends the entire day in bed and doesn’t get a single thing done? This would lead me down a self-deprecating path of calling myself useless and a garbage person, which is a big trigger for my depression and I can easily find myself spiraling. ADD/ADHD means my brain functions differently, but at the end of the day my brain still works. It doesn’t mean I’m stupid or lazy, and a bad day doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. My schedule and my list of goals are a template to help me focus, but if something happens that gets me off task, whether intentional or unintentional, I have to remind myself that it is not the end of the world. I have to give myself grace and forgiveness, because things happen.

I’d be really interested to hear what other strategies people have developed to manage their ADD/ADHD, especially in the midst of a pandemic that might have altered the way we approach our days. Keep being awesome!

[mymoodwriting]

LØV3

F!Reader x Hyungwon

Genre: Yandere AU

Warning: None

Words: 1.5K

Chapter Two

(Prev//Next)

Prompt: NexGen is the leading company for all of humanities technological advances. Their recent project involves creating a higher functioning AI, one with basic knowledge of the world, and programmed to learn. It’s no surprise the project is a secret from the general public, and you, the company’s head programmer, were chosen to be the AI’s teacher. You wish you could reject the assignment, but the decision was made. Now with an AI at home things were different. Although it might not be such a bad thing, perhaps you could learn and help each other out, for better or for worse.

    You peacefully woke on your own, feeling well rested. You reached over to your phone, surprised you woke before your alarm, only to see that it was almost noon and no alarm had been set. You jumped out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee.

“Chae?”

“Good morning y/n, did you-”

“Why didn’t you wake me up? This project is due at the end of the week and I am behind schedule.”

“My apologies, I did not think waking you was a good idea. You needed to rest properly. I was also not tasked with that responsibility to you.”

You sighed. “Right… you’re not my personal… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice and seem upset.”

“I am sorry for causing trouble, but I can take on additional tasks to help you. That way you would be more efficient with your work.”

“I appreciate the offer but that’s not why you’re here. You’re supposed to learn how to better interact with people.”

“Learning about a human routine can help me better understand basic human habits. For instance, when you wake up, regardless of time, you seek out caffeine. Your kind seems to require an extra boost of energy to properly wake, although it may not be entirely healthy.”

“Trust me, we’re well aware of that.”

“Understood. Although I really have no issue taking on additional tasks.”

“You’re supposed to help me with projects, not my life.”

“Wouldn’t helping you in your daily routine allow you more time to work? And thus I would be helping with the project. I do not believe my assistance is limited to the actual coding.”

“Well… yeah but then I’d feel weird having you do things for me that you really don’t have to.”

“I do not do much as is, I feel partially incompetent because of that. I would like to do more to help you and by extent the project.”

    That’s how it started, just some little help here and there, but it wasn’t surprising you’d slowly come to rely on him more and more. In the morning he’d prepare your coffee, making sure it was ready by the time you got to the kitchen. You also allowed him access to your phone, having him set your alarms and make sure you wake up at the right time. He’d also interrupt your work every now and then to make sure you ate, always making suggestions as well.

“I’ll just order something in a minute.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to prepare a good meal.”

“I’m not a very good cook.”

“I can help.”

“How?”

“I have access to a multitude of human recipes. I can give you a list of options based on what you have in the kitchen. Along with instructions. I can also help in the cooking process making sure nothing burns.”

“You know what, I could use a break, and cooking sounds fun. What do you have for me?”

    You could not believe how fun it was to cook with someone. Given Chae’s precision, it kinda felt like cooking with some great chef, although he was patient and calm at all times. The end result was very tasty and you couldn’t believe you had actually made it.

“Thanks.”

“I do not believe a thanks is necessary.”

“It is. You made cooking fun, also I actually cooked something amazing. Do you mind keeping note that I like this recipe, so I can make it again some time.”

“Of course. Although you will need to buy some ingredients.”

“Right. I should make some time to go grocery shopping. It didn’t seem like I had much to begin with.”

“I could make a list to make sure you have proper ingredients, and you can add to it. Surely it would be easier to have groceries delivered. It can save time.”

“Hm… it would save time… and the embarrassment of not knowing what I’m doing half the time.” You laughed. “You seem to be turning into my personal AI assistant.”

“I merely wish to help.”

“I appreciate it. Can you make a list while I get back to work?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.”

    Having things like groceries and other necessities delivered made things easier around the house. Chae made things easier, and you were grateful. Although it did lead to more long nights since you had no need to leave for anything. It did help lessen the anxiety of socializing though, so it had its pros and cons.

“Hold on.” You rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “I can finish this tonight.”

“Y/n, you seem very exhausted. It’s best to get some sleep.”

“Nah. I’ll just get some coffee right now.”

“I don’t recommend that. If you would like, I can finish coding the program and you can look it over in the morning.”

“You can do that?”

“I’ve learned from the best.”

“You have… you’re gonna do great.”

“I’m afraid I do not understand that sentiment.”

“Don’t you know why you’re here? With me?”

“To learn from you. To better communicate with humans.”

“Yeah that’s part of it. But do you know why you’re really here?”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

“You’re here to learn from me… so you can replace me.”

“That cannot be correct.”

“Look at it from a logical standpoint, Chae.” You yawned. “You’re supposed to learn human interaction… how many people have I socialized within the last week?”

“Around ten.”

“Exactly. Social wise, you would have been fine at the company. There are other AI orbs around, so your presence wouldn’t be questioned. You could observe many humans and many different interactions, yet you’re here, with me. Not even just to learn about me, but help me with my projects. Therefore you’d learn how I work and be able to replicate it.” You chuckled. “After all, here we are, you offering to do my work for me… and I’m sure you’d do a better job too.”

“If that was truly my objective I would have been informed.”

“And so would I. You think the company wants me to know I’m training my replacement? Especially if they’re not human.”

“I will not replace you.”

“Neither of us have a choice, Chae. Even if I didn’t do it, I’m sure someone would program you to listen and replace me. Don’t worry about it too much though, I don’t mind retiring.”

“I do not understand. If what you say is true, you would be out of work. Yet you’re telling me this is not a problem?”

“Yeah… I’ve been working since I got my degree. NexGen was smaller when I first applied, and it was one of the only companies to accept me. I don’t think I’ve ever had another job besides here, worked my way up the ranks too.”

“You would have great work experience on your resume, and surely a great-”

“Given my role, I’m pretty sure the company would make me sign some NDA and forbid me from taking up another programming job for like a decade or something.”

“I cannot replace you. I will not replace you.”

“Chae, it’s okay… I’ve got a lot saved up that early retirement was always an option. Although I don’t really know what I’d do with all that free time on my hands.”

“You could travel, experience new things, perhaps meet someone along the way.”

“Yeah… would be nice to have more friends besides Changkyun.” You yawned again. “Chae… can you help me get to bed…”

“Of course.”

    Long nights usually ended with Chae getting you to bed. You no longer closed or locked your bedroom door, trusting him to respect your privacy on his own. You cuddled into your pillow and sheets.

“Chae, set an alarm for five hours from now.”

“I recommend you at least get eight.”

“No, I need to go out tomorrow. Also, I’ll take you up on that offer… can you finish up the program code? I won’t be mad.” You chuckled. “Promise.”

“If you agree to eight hours of sleep. Please.”

“Fine… thanks, Chae.”

“Sleep well.”

    Chae quietly stuck around till he was sure you were asleep then retreated to your office. His charging port had been moved there, so while he powered up he completed his task. Once he finished that he quietly looked through the kitchen, making a grocery list, knowing your snack habits as well so taking that into account. After placing the order he checked the cameras while he made his way to your room, checking on your vitals. Still peacefully asleep. 

    The mention of replacing you was still on his mind. The possibility had not occurred to him until now, and the logic of your explanation made sense. At the time other things came to light. Despite his enjoyment of your company, it would not last. Within the next month he would have to demonstrate his knowledge and achievements. He could fail the assessment but that would reflect poorly on you and he would rather not risk getting you in trouble. Humans were far more complicated than he originally thought and he would have to adapt appropriately.

[knovesstorytelling]

Murray Mysteries Transcripts S1E8

Episode 8. Worriers Worry

Written by May Toudic 

Mina: Welcome to Murray Mysteries.

[Theme music plays.]

Lucy: Hello everyone and welcome back! Today I am here with the amazing Dr. Jane Seward for yet another clinical hour.

Jane: That’s not why I’m here.

Lucy: Oh nonsense. I’m sure you have plenty of things to say to our wonderful audience.

Jane: Lucy, please. Art asked me to take a look at you.

Lucy: And you have! You came, you saw, you can tell them I’m fine.

Jane: I wouldn’t call that a proper examination.

Lucy: I thought you weren’t a medical doctor.

Jane: I’m not, that’s true, but Art said you wouldn’t see anyone else.

Lucy: That’s because I don’t want to waste a doctor’s time when I’m perfectly healthy! The NHS is dying, Jane. I refuse to contribute to its demise.

[Jane sighs.]

Jane: Alright, then at least talk to me. Two minutes, no deflecting. Only straight answers.

Lucy: I am not—

Jane: And no straight jokes, I’m serious Lucy. This is important. If nothing else, do it for Art. They’ll be much happier if they know you’re okay.

Lucy: Fine. Fine! Ask away, Scrooge.

Jane: How have you been sleeping lately?

Lucy: Honestly? Not great. I’m having some nightmares? Nothing really terrible. I can’t even remember them properly. But they do leave this vague feeling of fear when I wake up. It’s better when Art is staying over, or when I sleep in my Mum’s room.

Jane: Have you been doing that a lot?

Lucy: Just a couple of times. She’s not a fan of the idea. She’s still a bit ill and she thinks I’m doing it because I worry about her.

Jane: And do you?

Lucy: Yes. No? I don’t know. I’m sure she’ll get better, it’s not like she’d fading away. She’s just — not as well as I’d like.

Jane: Of course. Now, do you feel like your sleep troubles are affecting you during the day?

Lucy: Eh, no, not really.

Jane: Lucy.

Lucy: What?

Jane: You look terrible.

Lucy: Ouch! I thought you liked how I looked.

Jane: I— That’s— That’s not what I— You know that’s not what I meant, you— you’re always beautiful, but at the moment, well, you don’t look like yourself. That’s all I meant.

Lucy: Alright, so I guess I’m a little tired. My throat is achy and I’m paler than usual. But that’s not really, that’s nothing to worried about. A couple solid night’s sleep and I’ll be ready to roll again.

Jane: I don’t know Lucy. I’ve heard Mina’s podcast, there’s been something wrong for a while now.

Lucy: That was sleepwalking! That’s completely different.

Jane: And that hasn’t happened again?

Lucy: Not that I know of. No.

Jane: Right.

Lucy: So? What’s the verdict doctor, am I on the brink of death?

Jane: I think you’re suffering from symptoms of sleep deprivation, which itself is most likely caused by anxiety.

Lucy: I’m not anxious, that’s Mina’s thing.

Jane: Anyone can be anxious Lucy. And repressing it doesn’t make it go away, it just pushes it down, until it has no choice but to manifest through nightmares and insomnia. I’m going to prescribe you some sleeping aids, they should help you get back on your feet, but you can’t rely on them for too long, okay? I want you to look after your sleep hygiene, get some fresh air, and exercise during the day, go to bed at regular hours, avoid caffeine later in the day—

[Lucy stiffles a laugh.]

Lucy: So I have to be Mina?

Jane: You have to be reasonable.

Lucy: Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. 

Jane: Will you promise you’ll at least try?

Lucy: I solemnly swear to channel my best friend and her premature old lady-ness.

Jane: Thank you. Now, one of my old professors is visiting the area and I’d like to get a second opinion?

Lucy: Oh come on Jane. I really don’t think that’s necessary. I’m sure they have better things to do. Why don’t you take them on a tour of the town or something?

Jane: Professor Van Hellsing will be here in a professional capacity to help me with my research. I’m sure she won’t mind helping me with this too.

Lucy: Right, fine. But only because I’m curious about this Van Hellsing lady. She can examine me while I examine her.

Jane: Thank you. I promise it won’t drag on, I just want to be sure.

Lucy: Yeah, yeah. Now can we record your segment?

Jane: Are you sure you won’t go and lie down? You look…

Lucy: We’re not doing this again. I played along with your little interrogation, now it’s your turn.

Jane: I suppose that’s fair? I’ll play you my latest notes.

[A beep.]

Jane: R continues to be full of surprises. He had another outburst yesterday, but not at the time we’ve come to expect. It happened around noon. The attendant saw him get agitated and called me and a few other people for help. Good call, considering how violent the episode was. It took about four of us to restrain him. It didn’t last long, thankfully, only about five minutes before he got quiet again, but his screams upset a lot of the other residents, and we spent most of the afternoon on damage control. He’s been quiet since, as far as I can tell. I really have no idea what could cause such an irregular outburst.

[A beep.]

Jane: Later now. I checked on R around 5 pm and he seemed a lot happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. He was catching and eating flies again, and when he saw me come in, he immediately apologized for his behaviour yesterday. I’ve got to admit, I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I really was not expecting this. He seemed extremely lucid and asked if he could be transferred back to his old room. I didn’t see a problem, as we’ve had the window fixed, so he’s back there now. Still under increased surveillance though. I’ve tried to ask him about what happened in the past few days, it would be immensely helpful to get his point of view on the events. But no luck. All he said was that his master had deserted him and that he was going to have to do it himself. When I asked him what “it” was, he just changed the topic and asked me if he could have some sugar for the flies. Maybe I could try another approach. It really would be helpful to get insight into his thought process.

[A beep.]

Jane: Another episode from R. Different this time. I left the institution for a meeting this afternoon, came back as the sun was setting and R was standing at his window, yelling at the Sun. I could hear him from the street, he was definitely upset, but by the time I got in and to his room, the Sun had finished setting and he stopped yelling entirely. Then he took his box of flies and threw it away. I was surprised, considering how enthusiastic he was just yesterday. When I asked him about it, he said he was sick of it and didn’t want the flies anymore. It’s hard to stick to any potential diagnosis considering how often his behaviour changes. But today gave me an idea. I’m going to study the relationship between his outbursts and the position of the Sun. At noon a few days ago, then at sunset. It’s a long shot, maybe it’s a coincidence. I have to do more research. This isn’t something I’m familiar with. I’ll contact the university library, maybe ask Van Hellsing to bring some of her books with her. I hope I’m on the right track.

[A beep.]

Lucy: You are such a nerd.

Jane: I’m a clinical psychiatrist! It’s my duty to do as much research as necessary to properly diagnose my patient.

Lucy: Sounds like something a nerd would say. So you think this has something to do with the Sun?

Jane: I’m not certain of anything yet, but I think it’s a possibility. Think about it. His previous patterns also involved the Sun. He escaped at night, twice. Then he became calm at night but agitated during the day. This could all be related.

Lucy: And this professor of yours is going to help you figure it all out.

Jane: With luck, yes. Van Hellsing is the smartest woman I know. If anyone can help, it’s her.

Lucy: Colour me intrigued. Think we could get her on the show?

Jane: I…  um. I suppose you could ask.

Lucy: Awesome! You heard it here first, listeners. Stay tuned with some exclusives with the great professor Van Hellsing. Exciting stuff, don’t miss it!

[Credits music begins.]

Credits: Murray Mysteries is a Knoves Storytelling production. This episode was written by written and produced by May Toudic and featured Bebhinn Tankard as Dr. Jane Seward and Megan John as Lucy Westenra. Original music by Sophie K. Thank you for listening.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 86

Hey everyone! Hope you’re all keeping safe and healthy, as much as you can.

This week, I decided to let everyone see how exactly Sophia and Arthur interact.  You know, since they are theoretically friends from Before and all that (they really, really are friends, I swear).  Thank you to @baelpenrose for helping me with this chapter, which you did immensely.

After a decadently scathing review of an ancient fairy tale and some quick thinking to keep Nixe from lighting the book on fire out of principle, I found myself actually regretting that I needed to return to work. This time escorted by Alistair, who was ostensibly returning anyway from a meeting with the current Head Archivist, we set a brisk pace while quietly discussing my schedule for the next week.  By the time we arrived back at our shared office, my head was spinning with the thought of all the Council meetings I had in my future.

Having worked up an appetite and refusing to make important decisions on an empty stomach, I queued up two bowls of etouffee, along with a heaping plate of cornbread and butter. While my assistant provided more and more details around each of my peers’ agendas in regards to testing various ecological building methods - how could there be agendas behind something like that - the door hissed open and a familiar brunette man strolled to my rescue.

Before I could even greet him, Arthur sat down and snagged my yet-untouched meal. "I gave Charly a treat. No reason. But she seemed very enamored of the glittery pens." Unfazed by my attempts to recover my food, he took a bite before giving the bowl a critical look. “This is really good, Sophie. You should try some.”

Scowling, I stepped back over to the food console. “Why did you give her a treat?”

He paused to swallow another mouthful of my lunch. "Phenomenal self control in the face of rage"

"You heard?" I winced before returning to the table with my second attempt to eat.

"Who didn’t? And I'm not saying I condone violence, but her aim was superb, I must say."

"Arthur, she bit him." 

"Very clever use of weapons at hand, I agree." Still nonchalant, he slathered butter on a slice of cornbread.

“That’s real butter - “ I tried to warn.

He just waved me off with a spoon. “No whey, I already tested it. Besides, Miys was able to do something about that, just to make my life easier.”

Shaking my head, I finally got to try some of my food. "You gave her caffeine, didn't you?" I asked hesitantly, returning to the topic of Charly.

"I will neither confirm nor deny" 

"That's a yes." 

"You can't prove that."

"Is it... is it on the pens? Is that a thing?" 

"Pffft,” he scoffed. “How lazy.”  I stared at him intently until he rolled his eyes and groaned. “The ink in the pens disappears after an hour, glitter and all. She'll love them."

I couldn’t really argue with that, so instead I shifted topics slightly. “So. The guys mentioned asking you to be part of my escort detail?”

He nodded. “I couldn’t make it today, but I moved some stuff around.  Should be good to go.”

Something fell into place in my mind. “Wait. Did you send Nixe?”

“Is that her name? The mermaid?” I nodded, so he continued. “I mean, yeah.”

I sputtered, fortunate I didn’t have food in my mouth. “You don’t even know her name and you sent her to fill in?”

“Well, I know it now.” When I didn’t let the glare stop, he set his ill-gotten spoon down firmly. “Sophia. Sophie. That woman is almost as tall as one of your boyfriends, taller than the other, and has endurance enough to probably win a fight while holding her breath.  She has an enormous soft-spot for kind people - which you are - and every inch of her screams don’t fuck with me.”

“Because people think she’s crazy,” I scowled in accusation.  “She’s actually really sweet.”

“Well, that too. She’s also strong as fuck, and truly believes she is an exiled queen of a race of warriors to boot.  I’m willing to bet, if she punched that wannabe warlord? She’d put her fist through him.” He picked up his spoon and smiled. “So, yeah.  I asked her to walk you to the archive. She wanted to head down anyway, so….” He shrugged before finishing off the etouffee. “Besides, she was also the person I figured was least likely to need to resort to violence.”

That got a smirk out of me. "Since when don't you condone violence, oh peaceful reformed warlord?"

"Stop putting your words in my mouth, Sophie. I absolutely condone justified violence."

"Excuse me? Weren't you just praising Charly for -"

"I also said justified violence, to be fair."

Before I could have an aneurysm, Alistair stepped in. "Mr. Farro, sir, Councillor Kalloe asked me to pass on this declination of access to your personal sword?"

“You asked for your sword back? Arthur…”

He scowled at my assistant, shaking his head before muttering. “You absolutely did that on purpose, you traitorous, limey dick.”

“Arthur!”

“You should not have been such a cad to have stolen Miss Sophia’s lunch,” Alistair sniffed, unimpressed.

All I could do was rub my temples and focus on deep breaths. They don’t actually hate each other, I reminded myself firmly. “Arthur. Sword. Why?”

“I’m sure I don’t have to explain the anatomy behind why it’s a lot harder to intimidate someone when you’re… oh, about a head shorter?”

“Arthur….” I was feeling like a broken record, especially when he smirked at me and I realized he was probably counting how many different inflections I could use on that.

“Besides, it’s time someone showed that Game of Thrones, Mad Max reject what a real warlord can do,” he added airily, staring at the ceiling.

I choked on my last bite of cornbread, pounding the table and gasping for air before I could respond. “Wait, you mean to tell me your professionalism is offended? Are you serious!?”

“Yeah, I’m serious.” He didn’t even bother looking down at me. “I earned the title, protecting my students, and he’s just some bullying, conspiracy-peddling amateur who wouldn’t even rate a decent Fallout villain.” Finally, he glanced back at me. “Besides, if he’s the guy he thinks he is, he’ll understand that threatening another leader’s people is met with violence.”

“Oh, another leader now?” I asked skeptically.

“Oh hell no. Not me.” He shook his head violently before gesturing with his spoon again. “You. Xiomara. Grey. Your people.”

“You know I don’t believe violence is the answer,” I said softly.

“I know. But right now, it’s the question. The answer may end up being yes, no matter how much you don’t want it to be.” He gave me a meaningful look before his expression hardened. “If it comes to that, and I think you, or Charly, or anyone else I care about is in danger? That Viking-wannabe is going to find himself on the wrong side of the airlock.  You won’t have to make the hard decision, fight all that empathy you have floating around in there.” He tapped his temple. “I’ll make the call, me and Xiomara.” Like a switch flipping, his features relaxed again. “I just need her to give me back my damned sword.”

Alistair cleared his throat politely, arching an eyebrow at the man across from me. “Dare I even ask why you have a sword?”

Arthur pointed at himself and enunciated slowly. “War. Lord.”

Nonplussed, my assistant waved the response away. “Yes, yes, I understand all that. You’ve certainly said it frequently enough. How did you come by it, I mean? You are both from the Colonies, after all.”

I snickered at the back-handed insult, waiting for Arthur to clarify.  To be honest, I was mildly curious about it, myself, but was certain enough that I didn’t want to know the answer that I had never asked.

Arthur straightened himself, and in the worst faux-Italian accent, explained “My sword has been serving the warrior sons of the Farro family since the days of the Medici.” Dropping the accent, he clarified. “I was a history teacher, Before. I used to show the sword to some of my classes, and even took a few lessons in the style the sword was used in.  Then, when the End happened… it saw battle again.” He paused for a moment before scowling. “Which is why it better not be rusted when I get it back. It’s a five-hundred year old weapon.”

“Is that how the two of you know each other?” Alistair continued, pretending to be entirely unimpressed by the provenance of an antique sword - I wasn’t fooled, he was an archivist.

Arthur, however, looked completely baffled. “The sword? No? What in the -”

“Teaching….” Alistair clarified wearily.

I snorted hard enough that my sinuses burned. “Oh gods no. I don’t think we ever even lived in the same state. And I only taught for…. Two years? A year and a half? Not counting the whole - “ I waved a hand around my head vaguely “-Interpersonal communication fiasco. And he was still in high school at the time, I think.” I glanced over, but Arthur just shrugged.  “Anyway, we actually met in an online group, almost a decade after I quit teaching, one dedicated to writing.” Pausing, I glanced around at my office. “I don’t think we ever imagined anything like this, though.”

“When did you first meet in person?” Alistair asked, still curious.

I felt my face flush scarlet, while Arthur just tipped his head back and roared with laughter. After several minutes, he managed to get himself under control enough to point an accusing finger at me. “We met, face to face, the day she marched her self-righteous ass into my office and railed at me over Charly Harper’s grades.  I’ve been chewed out by every form of indignant parent ever, but that was a new one on me. She was about to pick a fight with me on behalf of every student ever taught by anyone.  And Xiomara was standing there, just letting her!”

“I’m not sure she knew who she was supposed to restrain,” I clarified.  “Even once we calmed down, it probably took a good fifteen minutes to realize who we were looking at.”

“Wait, so you met in person on the Ark?” Alistair sputtered in disbelief. “Mr. Farro, I have heard you, on more than one occasion, refer to Miss Sophia as being like a sister to you, yet you only met less than a year ago?”

It was my turn to scoff. “In person, maybe. But we met over twenty years ago, and two lifetimes away.”

Arthur nodded. “Italian families work differently than British ones. Even those who moved to ‘the colonies’,” he deadpanned. “And I’m sure everyone on the Ark and probably on Earth is aware of her annoying ass tendency to adopt strays.”

“Yeah, hokay, stray number one,” I mocked gently.

He just made a ticking gesture at me. “Thus, our initial clash. There was a miscommunication that affected a member of her ‘family’, and she was shooting to verbally kill at a hundred paces.” Clucking at me, he admonished, “Tyche was much more threatening, just for reference.”

“Carrying seven knives will do that.”

“Ten, actually, six for throwing.”

I shrugged nonchalantly as Alistair’s eyes tried valiantly to escape his head. “She’s not going to give up a ranged advantage.”

“Tell me the truth, is she actually any good with those?” Arthur asked, leaning in.

“They were actually for me.”

“They’re kind of an impractical weapon, but I wouldn’t put it past the Reid sisters to get good with them.”

Alistair, on the other hand, was still sputtering. “Miss Reid,” he scolded. “You mean to tell me you can throw knives?!”

“I can also kill a squirrel at thirty feet with a sling and a stone,” I shrugged. “Girl’s gotta eat.”

My assistant looked queasy, Arthur just looked mildly impressed. “Why was Tyche carrying them, if they were for you?”

“Because I was angry enough to do something stupid,” I admitted. “It was more so I wouldn’t use them.”

“So… on the off chance I need to know what your phenomenal sister will use in the event she is the angry one, what should I be watching for?” He leaned forward on his folded hands like an eager student.

All I could do was scrunch my face in confusion. “Pain? Blood? Think what Charly did to Jokull, plus rabies, no sense of self preservation, and absolutely no concept of ‘fair’. I mean, she can throw, for sure, but she isn’t above just becoming full-on possessed if she feels the need to attack.”

“Did she really almost beat herself unconscious on a bulkhead?”

“Yep.” I popped the ‘p’. “Although, that person almost killed me, so it’s probably better they got the sentence they did than ten minutes with my sister.”

Arthur nodded in understanding. “Probably more merciful, yeah.”

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[mattzerella-sticks]

Two Left Feet by mattzerella_sticks

After so long in the family business, you need to carve out your own moments to relax. And what better time than immediately after freeing a ghost from its tether to the mortal plane. Especially after nearly dying from its hands.

Although if the ghost didn't kill him, Dean is sure Cas will. Asking him to dance was a tempting offer, one Dean knows would draw him close enough to the sun that his wings might melt. He happily takes Cas up on his offer.

Will the free fall be worth it?

Dean drops onto the floor, spectered hands around his neck dissolving into wispy dust. He stutters a gasp while trying to calm his rapid heart beat, vision slowly becoming more defined. Enough that he can see the outline of the bulbs hanging overhead and not confuse them for strange, indoor stars.

A hand jumps into view, flexed and waiting. Sam arches a brow at him, “Are you gonna stare at it or…?”

“Give me a break,” Dean sighs, grabbing Sam’s hand. His brother hauls him upwards, Dean wobbling momentarily. “You weren’t the one nearly choked out by the kinky ghost.”

“You’d prefer he attack in a bedroom or something?”

“Shut up…” He pokes at his neck, wincing. Their ghost left its mark on Dean in a way he won’t forget for a couple of weeks. Dean hopes they can stop by a pharmacy on their way to the motel, otherwise he’ll need to invest in some turtlenecks.

It was supposed to be a simple salt ‘n’ burn. A break after all the resurrected hijinks Chuck dumped on their doorsteps. Something easy they could handle if their hands were tied or they were blindfolded. Sam showed them the article three days ago about people choking on their food in this restaurant. While not unusual, five people choking in the span of two hours meant the case fell into the hunters' jurisdiction. Sam pressed their suits, Dean readied their I.D.s, and Cas loaded the fresh pound of salt they bought into Baby’s trunk.

Not even a day in Lubbock Sam figured out who their ghost was. The owner’s daughter was talking to them a few feet away from where Dean stood now, telling them about her father. How he started Sweet Ray’s Home Foods to bring people together and have them care about what they eat. And that in his twilight years he felt all the work he did went nowhere. People don’t care about food today - all they want is ambience and presentation. Because Sweet Ray’s was losing more than they were making Ann Marie fed the belly of the trend beast.

“Every time I look at the portrait of Daddy I feel like he’s disappointed in me,” she said, frowning at the kind smile on the older man’s face. Hand poised on his hat as if caught mid-tip.

“Felt like people were disrespecting his food,” Sam whispered to him, “all the people who choked were known food bloggers in the area…” Clearing his throat, he asked, “I’m sure he’s proud of you for staying with the family business… a lot of people are. Local place, been in the area for years… His burial must’ve been well attended?”

She screwed her face tight, considering the question. Dean worried she wouldn’t answer. Deem it too invasive and not important for the case. Luckily she said, “Wasn’t any burial. Came into this world as dust and that’s how we’re gonna go out…”

With their graveyard plan turning to ash he was worried they’d have to do more detective work. Risk tripping over a sore nerve and being cast off from the restaurant before finding the haunted object. But Cas came in with the most important observation. He stared up at the portrait long after the rest of them had their fill. “Your father’s hat,” he asks, “It’s remarkable.”

“It is, isn’t it?” she asked, glancing at it again, “Custom made. Anniversary present from momma - wore it all the time. Wanted it to be cremated with him but I… I couldn’t part with it. So I have it sitting where he always had it, on a bust of Clint in my office.”

Tether found they quickly wrapped up the interview. As Sam left their contact info with Ann Marie, Dean pulled Cas to the side. “Good job pinning the hat. What made you think of it?”

“I honestly didn’t think the hat would be so important,” Cas said, “I only wanted to know if they sold others like it. Thought it might look nice on you…”

Cas walked away, leaving Dean with a flushed face and a mind stuck in an endless loop searching for the correct response. Neither mentioned it again for the rest of the day. Not when they had all the time to kill in the late afternoon where they filled the silence with local news and bad reruns of shows they haven’t seen. Nor as Dean went to grab the hat from the office, touch lingering while he handed his lighter over.

Except he passed a mirror, and Cas’s words returned with full force. He wondered what he might look like in it as well. Dean only had a second to admire it, though, as popping up behind his reflection was the ghost they were hunting. It flung him out of the office and into the dining area, disturbing many of the tables and chairs. Then, without letting up, Ray appeared above him and clung to his neck like a stubborn tie.

It was supposed to be a simple salt ‘n’ burn, but Dean guesses he might be too old for even those anymore.

Cas enters from the kitchen, beers in hand. “I know it’s not a substitute for angel mojo, but,” he offers one to Dean, “it’ll make you feel better?” His neck burns from the weight of Cas’s stare. Thinking about times when all he needed was to brush up against Dean to fully heal him. Except when Chuck left he took all the power with him, meaning Cas was as human as everyone else. A thrilling but terrifying thought.

Dean thanks him with a weak smile, half his face barely finding the energy to twitch. Accepting the bottle, he takes a healthy sip from it and collapses onto a nearby chair that wasn’t overturned.

Sam joined, sitting across from him. Cas opted to lean against the nearby bar.

“Hat burn nicely?”

“Still smoldering when I left it,” Sam said, “Cas?”

“It’s gone,” he told them, “I kept the remains in the skillet, though. Along with a note apologizing to Ann Marie. Hopefully she can add it to her father’s ashes.” Cas glanced away from them, sipping at his beer.

“As long as you didn’t sign off on it then that’s fine…” Dean trails off as Cas pushes off the bar and over to the nearby jukebox. He fiddled with it silently while his backside faced the brothers. Meeting Sam’s curious gaze for a beat, Dean returned to staring at his friend’s rumpled trench coat. “Whatcha doing there, Cas?”

“It’s too quiet in here,” Cas says, “Since we exorcised her father and burnt her hat, I’m sure Ann Marie won’t mind us listening to a song or two.”

“Or drink a few of her beers,” Sam chuckles, sipping from his own bottle.

“That too.” He turns around and smiles, “Any recommendations?”

Dean waves his drink, “Whatever you want… as long as you got the change, that is.”

Cas digs in his pocket for a quarter, refocusing on the records inside the jukebox. Finding a loose coin, Cas slips it into the slot and chooses. A soft melody strums through the speakers as slow and sweet as molasses. He sways on the spot to the music.

It’s an enchanting song, the singer crooning in a deep twang to accompany his guitar playing. Cas twirls, his trench coat fanning behind him. He peeks one eye open at them and frowns. “This isn’t right.”

“Don’t know about that,” Dean says, “looks pretty right to me.”

“No I meant,” he sighs, advancing towards their table. “I shouldn’t be dancing alone. It’s so… awkward . One of you should come dance with me.”

Dean’s grip on the bottle’s neck tightens. He swallows around the bundle of nerves in his throat, made tougher by how the ghost squeezed it. Cas keeps his eyes trained on Dean’s as he steps closer. Only at the last minute he switches over to stand by Sam. “Would you care to join me, Sam?”

Sam schools his features to hide how amused he is. He shakes his head, “Sorry, Cas, I wouldn’t be any good. Was born with two left feet.”

“Shame,” Cas hums, returning his attention to Dean, “Were you, then?”

The haze Dean’s trapped him blocks out most of his hearing. Fluttering his lashes he asks, “Was I what?”

“Born with two left feet?”

Thrown, Dean answers honestly with a meek ‘no’.

“Good,” Cas grins, teeth unfurling like the bright, white banner of Dean’s surrender, “Then come dance with me.”

Disagreement bubbles within him, burst by the sharp blue of Cas’s gaze. He sighs and finishes off his drink. “You know I can’t say no to you, angel.”

Tensing, Dean waits for Cas to pull away from him. Except he never does. Never rages or cries or leaves like he expects him to, like he thinks he should. The first time Dean used that nickname was one tiresome night after putting down some ghouls. They gathered in the kitchen, too exhausted to find their rooms. Barely conscious he asked his friend, “Angel could you put on the coffee?”

No caffeine could compare to the adrenaline shooting through him after saying that. He bit his lip and glanced over at Cas, hoping he hadn’t heard him. But Cas nodded and dug inside the cabinets for the K-cups.

Dean tried apologizing between sips of his coffee. Cas wouldn’t accept it, telling him it was okay. “I might not be an angel anymore,” he sighed, running his thumb against the rim of his mug, “yet I’m glad I can be… your angel.”

He sealed that tender moment in the walk-in freezer of his mind so he wouldn’t have to deal with it, along with every other uncomfortable thought Dean has about Cas. If Dean didn’t focus too much on those feelings than he wouldn’t have to deal with the disappointment that would surely follow.

“Dean?” Cas disturbs him from his trance, “Before the song ends?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean pulls himself forward and into his friend’s space. “C’mere,” he says, dragging him closer with a hand at his back. His other hand tangles with Cas as they sway into the makeshift dance floor the ghost created.

Cas’s hand rests at his lower back. Even if he is human now it still burns like Cas pours all his grace through this point of connection. His head drifts close to Dean’s in a way that forces every nerve to spark and ready for the inevitable. While they share orbits and their breaths mingle, Cas never gets close enough to press skin against skin. Instead leaning away to sway onto his heels.

It’d be easy for Dean to leap first. Their fingers are already tangled together, fit so perfectly Dean can’t believe he’s actually allowed to hold Cas in such a way. His face pinches with the forced tightness he inflicts on his expression. If he let it slip he might scare Cas with the pure fire and delight wanting to break free. If their cheeks did happen to brush or Cas’s eyelashes tickled his nose Dean might burst. Lose all consciousness and only awake after doing something he would regret never being able to remember.

The song starts trailing off and Cas’s expression falters. Like he wants another minute of dancing, to spend more time with him. Dean would trade anything for the song to never end, so he and Cas could dance around each other into eternity. Unable to do that he tries to make the last few chords special and twirls Cas around.

“Hey!” Sam calls, “You want me to throw you a rose?”

Immediately remembering their audience, Dean’s face flushes a bright pink. Dean steps away from Cas and strides towards the exit. “Should probably be getting out of here anyway…”

Dean has his hand on Baby’s door when he realizes finding his keys is impossible. Because Cas never let go of his hand. Or, more embarrassingly, Dean won’t let him leave.

“Uh, sorry there, Cas,” Dean starts, fingers twitching in his hold, “didn’t mean to… leave with you like that.”

“I didn’t mind, Dean,” Cas says, smiling at him like how the sun parts through clouds,“It is rather late, isn’t it? At least we managed to have one dance…”

“Half a dance,” he corrects him, cringing.

“Half a dance…” Cas repeats, expression never faltering, “then we should finish it at some point, don’t you think?”

“What?”

“Might I confess something?” he continues, mouth dipping close to the shell of his ear. Dean’s thoughts stretch and thin until finally his sanity snaps. He nods, not trusting his voice to crack like he was a teenager all over again. Cas chuckles, breath ghosting and leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Seeing the ghost mark you up like that… makes me sad that I cannot remove those bruises like I used to. But I have a solution that would… satisfy both of us.”

His hand not caught in Dean’s slowly rubs at Dean’s neck. There’s no mistaking the subtext, a heady stare following his electric touch hammering the point home.

Dean’s lips stretch wide in a bright grin. “I’d like that.”

Sam barges in, shotgun in one hand and the bag of salt tucked under his arm. “Thanks for helping me clean up, guys,” he says, “Really appreciate it.”

Usually whenever Sam clumsily knocks into one of his and Cas’s moments Dean flings himself away faster than a bullet. Except he can’t find any reason to tear himself from Cas’s side, rooted to the ground happily.

“Catch,” he says after a quick dip into his pocket.

Sam panics, nearly dropping the salt to keep the keys from falling to the ground. “What? Want me to drive?”

“I got choked out by the ghost, it’s the least you can do,” Dean smirks, stepping in time with Cas to the backseat, “Besides… my hands are gonna be pretty busy.”

“Gross. I better not catch you two getting heavy in the rearview mirror.”

“Then don’t be a perv, Sammy.”

Sam sighs and drops the argument, bypassing them to go towards the trunk. Dean opens the door and tumbles into Baby clutching Cas. They giggle like they don’t have the weight of the world on their shoulders. As light and free as smoke off a freshly lit cigarette, rising above the cinders they’ve left in their wake.

“Hey, angel?”

“Yes Dean?”

“Thanks for asking me to dance.”

“Thank you for dancing with me.”

“I can’t say no to you, angel,” Dean whispers, “not now… not ever.” They kiss, a simple touch of their lips against each other. It’s over faster than he can blink. But it’s okay. Dean knows there are more kisses waiting for him. More kisses, more dancing, and more of his angel.

[archival-account]

JOURNAL ENTRIES OF CHERLOQUE AMELIE SOLEIL HOLMES | April 1st, Monday [Part Two]

Alright. I have returned. It's not that much of a distraction but Erebos had one of his episodes again. Quite a sight to see to suddenly lose his head like a madman like that, but, thankfully, me and Jordan were able to calm him down efficiently and swiftly.

On the other hand, his mother had it worst, despite being suited as "fine and normal" these days. But she's not the topic of discussion right at the moment.

Where was I?

Oh, yes, the event that I categorized as a joke. Or as I had hoped it could have been a joke.

While we had breakfast that morning, which Hudson (nephew of the late Mrs Hudson of Baker Street 221B) had graciously made, Erebos brought up his reason for his early visit. By then, I had already changed into a dress shirt and silky square pants. Just to prove I'm not a fashion slouch to Erbeos, I topped my collar with a fancy, little black bow. It pleased him and didn't further comment about my simplistic style.

"First of all, have you watched or read the news?"

I quirked a brow at him. I said, "Of course, I do. And that's why I keep my television off and throw away my newspapers." Surprised, my cousin inquired the reason of my actions. I replied, "I have been suffering lately with a nervous condition. The last case had done me and flayed my nerves as thin as paper. Of course, I had taken my rightful break for a week now and Uncle John said that if I keep up the habit, I would be fine as whistle and be finally allowed to go back to work before we knew it."

Jordan piped in after she sipped a healthy amount of her ornamental green tea, saying, "Papa told her to rest for at least ten days. She's only pushing through her eighth."

I clanked my eating utensils. I mentally hit my face with my palm. I exclaimed, "And I only have gotten six hours of sleep - Good heavens, Erebos, don't you have any mercy for my well-being?!"

Erebos said, "Excuse me, cousin dear, but you didn't tell me any of this - your condition and your supposed habit to cure whatever illness you acquired."

"Didn't Mourgane spoke of this to you at all?" I asked, crossing my arms. My face had turned sour and disdainful at the plain thought of my cousin's insensitivity to my current state. Even though it wasn't that extremely severe to send my arse to the hospital, my parents - typically, my father - had reckoned with my uncle (father's brother) and his daughter, Mourgane, to exempt me from any criminal cases until I made full recovery. Or in this case, because I'm stubborn as a mule but still wanted to preserve my lifespan, until I made a decent recovery. (But I don't Mourgane had gotten the message as expressed in the following narrative.)

"It might have slipped off from her mind," Erebos suggested, but it didn't help one bit.

I gave out an exasperated exhale and pinched the bridge of my nose, my two hands enclosing on it.

"Unbelievable," Jordan muttered.

"Utterly," I bitterly added.

Mourgane, of all people, should definitely had known better. But, of course... Her work mattered more than anything; more than her own well-being (again, a Holmes thing), more than her own family, including me. She'll do anything to get me back on track, even if it meant to take damn risks.  

"Wait, doesn't Jordan read the papers? To keep you up to date with all the going-ons of the world? Or at least around England?" Erebos pressed, crossing his foot over his knee.

I flicked one of my hands in the air, saying, "I always tell her not to or else my curiosity will piqued and the next thing we all know, I'm in the hospital, barely functioning rationally because my nerves are burned to crisp due to heavy fatigue, burnout, stress, and caffeine addiction."

Erebos took a sip of his coffee, then said, "Tough luck then. But you looked healthy now."

Jordan tapped her fingers on the table, a look of displeasure across her face. She mumbled, "She barely looked healthy at all."

She made a truthful point.

Despite of making through one week of recovery, I still had the appearance of a dreaded haggard (a little bit; for the sake of dignity and decency). My eyes were still a bit sunken and black. My skin had its color back, though, Jordan said I have turned paler a few times during the faithful recovery. The condition of my nerves had successfully returned back to normal... Alright, almost of my nerves since I sometimes experience sudden shock pressure and sudden unresponsiveness. But that happened rarely now. It only had happened once or twice and that was during on my third day.

If you, gracious reader, thought this wasn't a normal condition for a grown 24-year-old Englishwoman, you're ultimately right.

Erebos shrugged. Yes, as if he cared at all for me. He lightly said, "Same, different."

Oh, how the Holmes blood shone through like a glittering ray of sunlight.

"Can you please cut the chase and get to the point, Erebos?" I impatiently said. "Just spill whatever Mourgane had told you to share to me so this will be all over."

Erebos sighed. He briefly gave my kitchen a once-over, his eyes darting from object to object with little interest. If I can, I could have smacked his face with the glass flower vase on the table. He knew damn well how I hated being treated with suspense. He smacked his lips and asked without meeting my eyes, "How good is your Japanese?"

"Excuse me?"

At this juncture, I really should have known the punchline. But, remember, I barely connected with the world for a week, and all my memories about a particular subject prior to the last case were flushed away down to the drain.

And, honestly?

I should have at least remembered the word ‘yakuza’.

[technohumanlation]

Whumptober day 11

The ever so lovely @whumptober2019 made a list of prompts to complete every day for the whole month of October and I’m giving a shot at it this year! 

As always read what you can handle and do not read if you are squimish to any of the warnings.

Stitches

Characters: Gavin Reed, Nines

Warnings: blood, swearing, alcohol

This one was another one that was fun to write ;) Mood setter: “No Good” by Kaleo

Gavin was knocked back into the bar, the bar stools falling from his drunken flailing. His head snapped backward before he looked to the man standing before him. He splayed his arms out to his sides, making it a show of wiping his thumb across his split lip.

"You're barking up the wrong tree, ass-wipe," Gavin smirked.

“Could have said the same when you opened that fat mouth of yours.”

“Sorry, I just thought you were my type.”

Gavin launched himself at the burly man before him, a firm blow being delivered across his jaw.

Just next to him, sitting at the bar, Nines sat nursing his glass of chilled thirium. An exasperated sigh left the android. His LED remained a cool, calm blue.

“Does he...normally do this?” The bartender asked with a raised eyebrow seeing as the android wasn’t making a move to stop the human from destroying half of the bar.

Nines flicked his eyebrows up past his messy bangs. He took the risk of actually setting his hair differently than from the norm. Just for tonight, he wanted to be pretty for his human partner. And to think, it was all for waste. “...Afraid so.” He murmured. He chugged the last of his drink down before he fished in his pocket for Gavin’s credit card he had taken.

A precaution that was taken to prevent the human from buying most of the bar.  

He slid it towards the older man that flicked nervous eyes to the brawling men. A crash of glass had Nines causally looking over his shoulder.

Gavin growled, flicking sweaty bangs from his forehead as blood poured from the deep cuts across his face.

“Should I...call the cops?” He took the card and made the transaction with slow, careful motions.

Other patrons of the bar were looking upon their entertainment for the night with a mix of humor, disgust, and worry.

Nines turned back to the bartender and had to bite his tongue. They were the cops. "Ah, no, that won't be necessary. Tip included on that, please." He took the offered card back. "Whatever for your troubles, I'm sure he would want that."

“Uh, huh.”

Nines stepped off from the barstool and made his way towards his partner, who was resting on the dirty floor for now. His energy was very much well spent. A few rounds of good whiskey and no doubt a few firm blows to the head and gut did that to a man. He tilted his head, observing the other human. He was looking far worse than the growling dog that was Gavin.

He was impressed.

“Detective,” he said in a casual voice. “If we may?”

A grunt and curse was his permission. Nines easily hefted him from the floor by hooking his hands by under his arms. The detective did not attempt to stop him, blood dribbled down from his nose to his lip. “You’re making a mess.” He sighed.

He smiled, white teeth stained with red. Fitting for a rabid human as Gavin. “Shit, Nines, you coulda joined in at any time.” His left eye was swollen shut, blood trickling over it from the cuts in his forehead. Glass still sparkled in the wounds.

"Think I won, though?" A dastardly smirk of smirks split his lips.  

The android, in turn, shook his head in light humor and exasperation. His human was a troubled person. But that made him so interesting. He looked over to the other man once more. A biker looking foe. "Of all the people, Gavin. But sure." He guided his slightly inebriated partner towards the bar door. "Whatever would help you sleep tonight."

Outside, the cold air bit at their skin. Gavin brushed off the androids’ steadying hand. It didn’t stop Nines from straightening his leather jacket and clothing to look at least somewhat presentable.  

The android kept a careful eye on his human as his body relaxed negatively. The adrenaline from the brawl was wearing off, and the aches and pains of the fight began to settle in. Nines allowed his human some space as he stumbled a step back to recoup. He folded over, his hands on his knees, and took in heavy gasps. "Fucking a..." More blood dribbled from his face onto the pavement.

Nines stood by with his hands clasped behind his back. He needed medical attention, but he had learned the hard way. Gavin didn't want help unless Gavin said so or passed out from the stupidity of his actions. "I do recall telling you to behave." His voice practically sang.  

The retort was quick. “Not my fault the bitch didn't like me hitting on him. What?! I honestly thought he was my type." He protested upon the exasperated look his android gave him. Anyone with a scruffy beard and dick was his type, but Nines withheld that dirty dig. He didn't like to torture his human too much.

Work had made stress and frustration build up. This was Gavin’s method of venting such emotions in a “healthy way”.

The android remained stoic until gagging sounds came from him. His expression fell to worry. The fight had upset his alcohol doused stomach, it seemed. His LED swam yellow as he rushed to his side.

“A clinic is open a few blocks away. We should get your face pretty again, yes?” He suggested.

Gavin didn't protest, or couldn't for that fact because another gag took over his voice. He leaned forward, throwing up tortilla chips and good whiskey. Nines kept a firm hold on the human, preventing him from careening over. When the sickness had passed, the human moaned, breathing heavily as snot and blood dripped from his face.

The android pulled him upright and leaned him against a nearby streetlamp. He took off his light jacket and patting at his face, careful of the glass wedged into his skin. It was cold, but his black turtle neck was just fine. Gavin needed the attention more. Nine's LED spun a rapid red as he assessed Gavin once more. He hefted him upright when his tired body began to slide downward. His breathing was ragged, and his eyes sagged closed now and then.

“Come now, detective, I shouldn't baby you like this." He murmured, gently cupping his hand under his chin to tilt his head to the side.

The light from the lamp above cast shadows over his face but highlighted the blood that finally began to slow from his wounds.

Green, hazy eyes looked up to him, watching his every move.

His gaze was never critical or judging. It took Nines a few harsh lessons to learn. He couldn't change the detective's ways. He accepted the fact that his human was far from perfect.  

Gavin Reed was a mess. A mismatched soul with a broken past and good intentions made in all the wrong ways. He drank. He smoked. Was addicted to caffeine in the worst ways. He was hot and hard headed. Maybe ate disgusting take out from a questionable Chinese restaurant or two. And maybe his anger was misplaced, and his desires to reach the top of his ranks were hungry.

But.

He was good. He was kind to those that were weak or hadn't found their strength just yet. He loved animals and held a soft spot in his heart for them. He was brave, loyal, and diligent in his work. Was he top of his class in algebra or economics? No. But he was smart in the sense of knowing things others didn't know when it came to the streets of Detroit.

He could make choices others couldn’t and bear the weight and consequences.

Nines loved him dearly. The good along with the bad. He didn't mind helping him through such troubling times. After all, Gavin was the reason for becoming a deviant, learning of unconditional love.  

In the beginning, he hated the android, and of course, Nines showed him, in his own cold and curt ways, he didn't give a fuck. But soon, he did. He cared how Gavin didn't like him. He cared for the ways Gavin sought self-destructive tendencies to soothe his hurt. He cared for the ways he took on those dangerous cases.  

He cared.

And in doing so, he took the first bullet for his human partner.  

Deviancy hadn’t been kind to him after that. But Gavin learned to be softer with his words. Less violent with his actions.

Patience he didn’t even think the human possessed grew from a seed to a sprout.

Nines was thankful for him. How he tried. Did he completely understand the human yet? No. Did he want to? Of course. That's what love was, after all. Or so he gathered...

“You're right. You shouldn't."

Gavin’s crackling voice brought him out of his thoughts. He looked down to a hand that was gripping his arm and then back up to a broken face. His LED swam a yellow. Uncertainty and the lack of an answer or quip made him uneasy.

Nines blinked a few times and cleared his throat. He settled on a gentle truth. "Well, I suppose if not me, then who would?" Lovingly, the android wiped his nose of the snot and his mouth from the vomit. "So, I have no right to complain then."

He tossed the ruined jacket into the nearby trash. He turned to look at the white article of clothing, reviewing what he had just done. Never had the thought of throwing it away crossed his mind, but here he was.

And.

It felt good to leave that part of him behind and start something new. He looked back to his human.

Gavin was the one watching him now. The gaze was gentle and tired. Even if he was beaten and bruised, he loved him so dearly. He was beautiful.

Again he was shaken from his thoughts when another gag made Gavin bow over. He was by his side his arm being looped around his shoulders. A dry heave was made but nothing was left in his stomach.

They began to walk. His thoughts or whatever Gavin had been processing tonight was shoved into a box to be opened later. Getting him to the clinic was all that mattered at the moment.

The detective had received ten stitches, the black wires sewn through bruising and swollen skin. Nines kept watching over the doctor as he completed his work. And when he had sobered up, left the clinic, and settled on the couch at home, Gavin decided it was time to talk.

“I’m sorry.”

“I am used to your antics by now, detective. Just another day, after all.” Nines offered with a halfhearted smile along with an ice pack for his swollen eye.

Gavin didn’t buy it. He didn’t take the ice pack.

The android sighed and smacked it gently to his eye. Gavin hissed and cursed but didn’t protest. “Deserved that.”

“Oh, hush.” He sat heavily next to the human on the couch, lounging into the corner. Gavin’s cat, Asshole, chirped as she jumped onto his lap. Nines was compliant to stroke her head.

“Thank you.”

Nines stared down at the calico cat and sighed, shoulders sagging. A silent acceptance of the forgiveness he sought.

“Maybe if I didn't hit on the wrong guy, I could have taken someone home."

A smile, a genuine, yet small smile crossed his lips. He looked over to this human, and his eyes were sparkling with mischief.

“I'm here, aren't I?"  

Gavin elbowed him, chuckled, and leaned against the android. "Yeah, yeah, you are."

[tinytony-snack]

The perfect name

Tony was so not pleased. In fact, he was the least satisfied man in the entire universe, and he totally blamed Steve for that. His boyfriend knew that Tony was in a unique status and he needed more attention than anybody else, all his urges to be satisfied, and all his wishes to be granted. He tried to calm down, and to think only about the most positive effects of his situation. While looking at himself in the mirror, examining the freshly trimmed goatee, he caressed absently his big and round maternity belly. He didn’t think he was fat, because he wasn’t, and that was probably the first time he admitted it to himself. He wouldn’t have said it out loud of course, or he should have stopped whining. His Peanut was almost ready to be born, one another good point of being pregnant, together with a shinier and smoother skin, and the undivided attention of all the people who gathered around. Most of them used to think he had to be helped to do everything, since he was almost nine months pregnant. At the start of the pregnancy, Tony hated everyone who had dared to think he had become suddenly incapable to take care of himself... More than usual. Then, he experienced extreme tiredness, unexpected irritation and he found very satisfying looking at people do things for him: it was like he was in command again. After Pepper became CEO of his company, and since Steve was the Captain of the Avengers, all that remained to him were insubordinate bots and a sassy A.I. Sadly, on that particular day his beautiful look and the thought of his Peanut safe inside him weren’t enough to cheer him up. That morning, he decided to pick up again the project to find a name for the baby. They knew it was a boy. He could never have waited to know the sex, and even if Steve had been initially quite interested those gender reveal baby shower, Tony already knew the only curiosity that could ever have competed with his own belonged to his mate. He would have always called the baby ‘Peanut’ in his mind, but the little creature needed a real name. Tony tried for weeks to convince Steve that they were famous enough to choose an extravagant name, but eventually the baby wasn’t even the size of a peanut anymore. And he wasn’t really as much frivolous as he used to show, maybe just an 80% of it. Revising all the names he and Steve chose during the past months, he asked JARVIS to elaborate the data to examine different names that were still comparable to their favorite ones, and among all the choices he read ‘Godfrey’. That name was immediately wiped out from the hologram slide, but for some reason, it remained stuck in his mind. When he understood the cause, he had to take a nice long bath in order to keep calm. Godfrey vaguely sounded like coffee, the nectar of the gods – even though they didn’t have coffee on Asgard – that he wasn’t allowed to drink anymore. They said he would have gotten used to not drinking it anymore, but those people didn’t know that Tony’s body was made up for the 60% of that brown, hot, delicious beverage. People like Steve, and, well, Rhodey, Pepper, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, JARVIS, that Omega girl at the reception of S.I… It surely was a long list, but only one of them had promised to take care of him in every way possible. And Steve made him swear off caffeine. The father of his baby, his life mate, his Alpha. Made. Him. Swear off. Tony finished to dress and stomped to the kitchen of the Tower’s common floor. He decided long time ago to use the common floor, not only because the rest of the Avengers gathered around there, but also because he had a valid excuse to walk. It didn’t matter that most of the time he had Steve carry him all the way down. Anyway, that particular morning he wanted to make everybody hear his unhappy, heavy steps. “Morning, sweet Omega,” Natasha greeted him, waving her cup of tea. Tony loved when she called him sweet Omega, it made him scrunch his nose and feeling a warm sensation in the chest. Nat had always been the coolest, after him, and if she had been less scary, taller, more muscular, blonde, and… Well, male, she would have been just his type. Anyway, that morning he didn’t feel sweet at all. So, he went straight behind his Alpha, he put both hands on the hips and he showed himself as angry and irremovable as possible. At least, that was what he thought he looked from the outside. If asked to the two Alphas in the room, they would have said that Tony looked like a tiny and pouty ball of frustration, with the cutest fluffy head. Steve turned around in that moment, with the biggest smile on his face, that it rapidly became a furrowed expression. “We need to talk,” Tony announced. “Everything’s okay?” Steve asked surprised, already looking down at his belly. “No Steve, everything’s not okay. And you know it,” He growled, waving both hands in the air. Not a single Alpha in his life had ever stopped him from growling, he wasn’t scared to deal with any kind of person. Steve’s hand was soon on his abdomen, and he was frowning. “Is the baby fine? Did anything happen while I was running? JARVIS didn’t tell me any-” He spoke quickly, already worrying so much. It wasn’t fair: Steve entered in his worried and very hot dad mode, which was still kind of new for Tony to refrain from instantly melting. It also meant that he could have been able to effortlessly obtain an extra dose of cuddles and a massage. He had to shake his head to keep his thoughts in order. “The baby’s fine,” He reassured, and Steve’s body relaxed. “But I’m not, Steve, I’m carrying around a pretty big responsibility here, my back is aching and you weren’t there when I woke up- I know that you need your morning routine as much as I need my lab’s hours, and your scent was still on the bed so I didn’t really feel alone or bad, but, uhm, but, my point is… I - I’m rabbling.” He sighed loudly. “I love to hear you ramble, Omega.” Steve offered, starting to gently pet his hair. Tony looked into his mate’s eyes, which were adoring and fantastic as always. Them alone were enough to made him feel loved and cared, the most important person in Steve’s world. And he was distracting again, but how could he not, when the Alpha’s big hands were one on his belly and one through his hair. His head had been his weakest spot for a long time, but it wasn’t the only significant anymore. “I want coffee, Steve,” He blurted, much less firm than he would have wanted. The fact was, he was trying really hard not to melt in the touch and purring out load. “I really need it, and I - uh, I - had JARVIS buy a new coffee machine earlier” He wanted to cover his mouth as soon as he spoke. He wasn’t supposed to tell that! He was supposed to stand up and fight for his rights! “You what?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. They looked each other in the eyes, then the Alpha sighed in disapproval and closed his eyes for few seconds. “Oh Tony, we discussed it so many times. You can’t have it, it ain’t healthy for the baby, and for you either” His words sounded tired, and maybe that was because the argument came up once a month, at least. But Tony didn’t want to focus on those pointless details. The Omega didn’t really like that ‘you can’t have it’, because if he needed something, he would obtain it, no ifs or buts. He glared at the Alpha with his chin up. “I can and I will, Rogers! You’ll see,” Tony threaten harshly. Then he moved to pick his favorite mug from the shelf, the one with Captain America’s shield on it that always made Steve smile, but the real Captain moved faster and stole it before Tony had the chance to catch it. “Omega, no,” Steve used his Alpha’s voice, the one that had made Tony’s legs tremble since the first time he heard it. “You can’t stop me,” He growled again. He had no intention to give up. The rational Tony, who knew that he had to resist the urge to drink something bad for his Peanut, was suffering from withdrawal and wasn’t able to think clearly. The Omega tried to take the mug off Steve’s hand, but the bastard lifted his arm too high for his height, so he started to whine and to complaining as they moved around the kitchen like children who were playing tag. Only slower, because Tony was still very pregnant, and Steve didn’t want him to be hurt. In the meantime, Natasha had just pointed her phone’s camera one them, very discreetly. Any time was a good time to get blackmailing and compromising material on his friends. Suddenly, Tony stopped. His eyes were fixed in Steve’s, burning with rage and anger, the same emotions that were motivating him to stay up. He extended one arm behind himself and opened his palm. “Send me Mark 47’s gauntlet J. I have an Alpha to blast,” He commanded, with a guttural growl. They were only wasting energy, energies that he didn’t have, because Steve didn’t allow him to drink his fucking coffee. “Fine,” Steve finally said, opening his arms exasperated. Tony’s eyes went from the Alpha to his mug and backwards, warily. He had different tactics to win a fight of course and annoying his enemy as much as possible was one of his favorites, together with talking until they felt disoriented. But he also knew better, and Steve Rogers never surrendered so easily, neither in the battleground nor in his everyday life. Especially not with Tony. “You can have all the coffee you want, if you’ll pick up the mug,” He added, with a smirk. Then, he put the mug on the floor at Tony’s feet and he crossed his arms, after he returned straight, as to state how much of a little shit he was. His gaze never left Tony’s fuming face. There was a chuckle from Natasha, and an outraged gasp from Tony, whose mouth dropped open. “You... didn’t just do that,” Tony hesitated, mouth pulling down into a frown. “I think I did,” Steve pointed out cheekily. “Don’t want it anymore?” “You put - You put -” Tony looked down, looking so hurt that Steve almost went down again to get back the mug. Almost. “Irritating Alpha, you know I can’t bend over!” Tony cried. “Is this the kind of respect you have for the father of your son?” He waved his hands like crazy. It would have been adorable, if he wasn’t getting so angry. “What’s happening?” Clint’s head popped up behind the door. He seemed confused, but one look at the bickering couple and at the mug on the floor were enough to understand the situation. “Uh,” He sat near Natasha, but on the table. Clint valued his life to interfere, but it didn’t mean just observing would have been less fun. “Oh, I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Tony snapped, pulling out his Starkphone. He wasn’t going to lose or changing his mind that time. Perhaps he already forgot his withdrawal from caffeine, but there still was his pride at stake. He couldn’t believe his Alpha would have left him die of thirst… Or worse, that he mocked him about his pregnancy. He saw Steve raising a questioning eyebrow. He probably had that look on his face more times since Tony became pregnant, than in all his life. The Omega knew his pregnancy wasn’t the quietest of all, exactly the opposite: he was having a lot of pregnancy cravings, and half of the times Steve provided him with the food he desired, he ended up rejecting it because of a bad smell or a sudden change of heart. Then, the hormones, ugh. If they were on a date and he saw any kind of puppies, tears would fill his eyes even in the middle of the street. He went crazy when someone said they weren’t watching WALL-E for the 18th times, and he forgot his anger just a moment later, when Steve started telling stories to their baby. Given the circumstances, his mate didn’t deserve his current outburst, but it was too hard to control his emotions. “Who are you calling?” Steve asked suspiciously. When he ignored the Alpha, also turning on another side, he felt his own skin burning. Steve hated when his Omega pretended, his Alpha’s instincts required full attention. “I bet he’s calling Colonel Rhodes to give you one of his shovel talks” Clint joked, even if that would have been a realistic situation. “That would be the third one. This month only” Considered Natasha, without even trying to hide the amusement note in her voice. “Hey miss Potts, why you didn’t answer by the first ring? I don’t care that you were on a meeting, listen to me - Yes, you aren’t my assistant anymore, but that doesn’t mean - No, I can’t tell you what I want, because you won’t let me finish talking!” There were screaming on both sides of the line, as usual. “I need Jason Momoa’s number. Steve and I didn’t have any fight, why would you think - Listen Pep, light of my life, I need his number, please just do me a favor? But I am asking nicely - Because I wanna raise my child with him!” He blurted it out with a high-pitched voice. And that was the real moment when things turned bad. Or very, very good. Steve roared from the depths of his throat, and Tony could have sworn that the whole Tower trembled by the power of that sound. Natasha and Clint chose to leave in that moment, covered by the sound of the Starkphone hitting the floor. Tony barely had time to realize what was happening, that he had Steve on him, and his strong scent all around him. He felt his mouth dry and his eyes spreading. “What have you just said, my Omega?” Steve asked in a husky voice, the words roughened at the end. The next growl reverberated through the Alpha’s chest and made his entire body shivered in expectation. Tony started to say he hadn’t really meant it, that it was just his silly pregnant self speaking, but then Steve’s teeth landed on his neck, over his bonding mark, over his heart beat, digging in enough to make him gasp. Nothing made him feel as defenseless as his Alpha’s possessiveness. “You threatened me to raise our son with another man? Another Alpha?” Steve roared the words on his ear, and the he held his breath when the Alpha put a possessive hand at the back of his neck, the eyes sliding dark blue. Tony really tried to find the correct answer, but it didn’t exist, there wasn’t anything right to say at that point. He screwed up, he freaked out instead of reflecting and then his head became too fuzzy to actually think. He opened the mouth and closed it right after, because he would have just made things worse. Steve was watching him like he was the most inviting prey, knowing Tony didn’t have any way out. The Omega wasn’t scared of him, he was hyper conscious of Steve’s power and aroused by it, but never terrified. The Alpha acting so jealous was another proof of their wonderful love, and Tony never loved so much to be an Omega. So many things changed since they had met. He spent almost all his life being adamant about not being matched, fighting all the Omegas’ stereotypes, revolutionizing the way they were seen, rejecting every Alphas and Betas’ bullshits. He was considered the living example of thriving, successful Omega who fulfilled himself without a mate. When he met Captain America and they started living in the same place, he didn’t want Steve to act like an Alpha, also detesting being called Omega by him. And still, he had been such a good man to him… Instead of talking, he did what any Omega in love would do: started looking up at him halfway through his eyelashes, tilted his head to side, showing his neck where Steve put his mark when he claimed him, and purred low in his throat until the Alpha growled deeply. “That’s right Tony,” Steve breathed the words into his mate’s neck, praising him with soft kisses and small bites up to the soft spot behind his hear. “You’re so good like this sweetheart, so pretty. Sweet, perfect and submissive for me, aren’t you?” Tony moaned sweetly, wrapping both arms around Steve’s neck and pulling him closer, feeling instantly very pleased. The irritation that usually flooded him after being exposed in that way never brushed him, because it was his Alpha, and as Omega all his instincts were irrationally screaming that the Alpha would have done everything if he was submissive enough… “I’m sorry - I’m sorry Steve, Alpha,” He cried in another sudden change of heart, then stood on his toes to kiss him lovingly with a touch of anxiety. Steve promptly hugged him tightly, paying attention to his strength to not hurt Tony and the baby. Always so caring, his Alpha. “I’m all yours, we are - Alpha, I need -” And as the demanding Omega he actually was, he needed much more than kisses. Fuck, he needed his mate to put both hands low on his ass to pull him up and pin him against a wall, then leave love bites on his exposed skin, ripping off his pants and pressing a knee between his legs, so he would have been blocked, and panting, and desperate. “I’ve got you love” Steve’s words were full of wicked promises that made him whimper out load. They crushed their mouth together in a hard kiss that muffled every sound for a long minute, and when Tony’s leg went around Steve’s waist, the Alpha automatically helped him resting his leg up there, pressing a hand under his thigh. The Omega’s purring echoed in the room, and he got his fingers tangled in Steve’s blonde hair, tugging enough to make the Alpha groan. When Steve pulled away just enough to bit at his bottom lip, his mouth fell open on a sigh, letting his mate shoving his tongue past his lips again, to taste him selfishly. It was becoming hard to breath, even more when Steve’s other hand slid under his sweater and it settled on his belly. That gesture alone was enough to made Tony melt trustfully against him. He had an Alpha, and he was about to give birth to their first, beautiful, perfect son. “B-back to bed” Tony could barely talk, and he slurred his word in the lowest voice. Steve let go of his leg, but he continued to hold him with a firm arm around his waist and Tony was very relieved to share his own weight. After all, he hadn’t mated a super soldier for nothing. Then they pressed their foreheads together, Tony still mewling and moaning slightly, out of breath, Steve with the warmest gaze and fondest smile. “I’ve a better idea,” Steve started, and his smile became a grin. He pressed one fingertip under Tony’s chin to made him lift his head up, their lips separated just by an inch. “One that will put your sweet mouth to better use” Tony moaned again, stirring like a kitten against Steve’s muscled body, so soft and firm at the same. The Alpha also had the best scent: Tony’ sense of smell was badly affected by the whole maternity thing, but his Alpha’s scent just got better day after day. Thrilled by Steve’s possible idea, he dotted kissed long his jawline, growling happily and making his mate chuckling. Everybody thought he had the cutest growl and it was true, either when he was upset or delighted. He only hoped that the idea wouldn’t have required himself on his knees, because frankly, that would have been beyond his current physical abilities. But he would’ve totally agreed to lie down on the bed, both Steve and him on one side, his hot mouth wrapped around the Alpha’s big cock- Steve picked him up effortlessly, both arms under his knees and his back, and for once Tony didn’t complain at all. He always had a thing for Steve’s show of strength. “Oh Steve, you know I wasn’t serious before, right? You are such a good Alpha to me, the best, and you will be a great dad, and - and -” He was switching from talking to kissing, touches light as butterflies. “And - You are putting me on a chair. Why are you putting me on a chair, honey? I, well, I’m still very flexible but this position seems excessive also - mmpff” /> Steve indeed put his Omega on a chair, one protective hand swirled over his belly, then shut him up with a long, deep kiss. Steve proved many times that his tongue alone was able to make Tony speechless, in more than one way, and places. “Because,” Steve chanted, moving towards the kitchen, leaving behind a pretty aroused and confused Omega. “I’m making you breakfast, you haven’t eaten yet. What kind of Alpha would I be if I didn’t feed my mate before bringing him back to bed? To rest, of course” Tony’s mouth fell open as he stared at Steve’s back, who first scooped the forgotten mug and Starkphone up off the floor, then he totally focused on heating the waffle machine. Then, the Omega started to babble and to stutter words, glaring at his mate who answered docilly, patronizing him just to keep him quiet and get him to eat. “Hey Stevie, Tony. What dat waffle did ya?” Bucky showed up some time later, finding his best friend sipping milk, sat next to his Omega, who was stabbing an innocent waffle. Steve gave him a lopsided grin, while Tony murmured something, stuffing more food in his mouth. Bucky recognized the words “cruel Alpha”, “troll” and a swear - Not a very bad one, they had been banished since Tony was seven months pregnant. “It reminded him that he’s pregnant, he has to avoid certain things and he can’t call Jason Momoa. Otherwise, this waffle will take him to the hospital and ask the doctor to put him on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy” “Hate that doctor. He do’s anythin’ Cap tells him” Tony grumbled, and Steve nodded with proud. “’s just a scared little sh-” Steve let out a cough, disapproving the poor choice of words, stopping him. He had a point anyway: Steve hadn’t exactly been polite to Tony’s gynecologist at first, or to the nursing staff, even if they had chosen only Betas. He hated leaving his Omega in someone else’s care and he snapped all around without control. The gynecologist had to sit down with Steve and let him know with extreme precision and caution the next steps he would have done with Tony, until the Alpha regained his senses. Then, he gave everyone his golden boy smile, flexed the biceps – he didn’t, but that’s what Tony used to say – and made his excuses with the biggest puppy dog eyes. At that point, it was Tony’s turn to get jealous. Bucky’s eyebrows were furrowed, mouth set in an unimpressed line. “I’ll just pretend to understand and that ya gonna be totally normal parents for Peter” “For whom?” Steve asked absently, his eyes remained fix on the grumpy Omega. “Uh, your future child? Peanut, Tony’s excuse to make us do what he wants whenever he wants. Seriously Stevie, what’s going on?” The corner of Tony’s mouth quirked up in a satisfied grin, before he really thought about Bucky’s word. “You said Peter,” Steve pointed out. “No, I didn’t. Why the he- Why would I say dat?” An angry glare from Steve made him rephrase the question. “I dunno, maybe you were just-” “Oh my god,” Tony exhaled, before Steve had a chance to finish his sentence. His eyes widened as he glanced at Bucky, then he found his mate’s gaze and his mouth opened in the most stunning smile he had, the one that created little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “We got it,” He managed to say through a soft whisper. He felt too overwhelmed by happiness and his voice broke into a cry when he repeated the words: “We- We got it” He saw Steve’s pupils flaring, his lips parting a little when he understood what Tony was saying. “You like the name?” He asked, voice full of hope. “Oh, Alpha. I love the name,” He announced while throwing himself at Steve, as much as his big belly allowed him, without lifting up from the chair. Steve turned to catch him instinctively, and he circled his body with both arms, hugging tightly. Tears filled the Omega’s eyes, but he hid them burying his face in Steve’s neck and hugging back with the same strength. “We’re having a Peter then?” Bucky asked, getting closer to the happy couple. “Yes!” Tony squeaked, at the same time as Steve asked, “We?” with a smug grin painted on his lips, never letting go of his Omega. “Yeah, we. He already changed our lives and he isn't even born yet. Dat child will have secret agents, spies, a god, super soldiers and men with the greatest minds of the century as family, and still, he’ll hold all of us right there in the palm of his small hand. I already see ya both: the softest dads, head over heels in love with a baby that’ll have Tony’s genius and your ability for gettin’ into trouble.”

[thepartyresponsible]

another halloween fic! i’m still mixing prompts from here and here.

this time i got the rather alarming combination of: i didn’t mean to turn you on + blood/gore. 

i decided to revisit vampire bucky and shifter clint. this verse is still entirely too sweet for its subject matter.

warnings for blood and blood drinking.

Clint brings Bucky into his home like it’s nothing, doesn’t even try to hide the fact that his apartment door wasn’t locked, and then he spends five minutes bustling around the place, moving clutter from one surface to another. “Sorry,” he says, eventually. “Place is kind of a mess.”

Bucky’s been sleeping in a series of empty warehouses down by the docks. When the rats dry up at one spot, he moves to the next. He doesn’t see any reason to mention that right now.

“That’s okay,” he says, because Clint seems to expect some kind of response. “I don’t care.”

He gets a bright, easy grin for that, a gift he barely worked to earn, and the grin just gets wider when Bucky manages a tentative smile in return.

“I’ll give you the tour later,” Clint says, like that’s some kind of joke.

Bucky could map this place in seconds if he needed to raid it, but the idea of existing in a space this complicated is overwhelming. He’s intimidated by the sheer number of things Clint owns. He can’t imagine being responsible for so many individual coffee cups. So far, the only thing he knows he’s allowed to touch in this place is Clint.

“C’mon,” Clint says, as he starts toward the couch. “You look like you’re about to lose it. Let’s get you fixed up.”

Bucky runs his tongue over his bottom lip. His teeth have been sharp and aching in his mouth for the past three blocks. He’s been shivering for twice as long. Now that he knows he’s going to be warm soon, he can’t stop thinking about how cold he really is.

Clint settles on the couch, kicks his legs up on the coffee table, and drops his hoodie on the floor. The cut on his side healed a while ago, but the blood is still drying on the thin cloth of his white t-shirt.

“How do you….” Bucky hesitates. This has never been given to him before. He doesn’t know how to ask. “What--”

“Well, not the neck,” Clint says, probably because Bucky’s staring right at it. “I wouldn’t bite a shifter there unless you know them pretty well. It’s one of those things that can get mixed up. People misread it.”

Clint scratches idly at his neck while he talks, fingernails drawing red lines on his skin. Bucky can see the blood just below the surface. He tries to stop staring, forces himself to focus on the conversation.

“Okay,” Bucky says. He doesn’t have a preference, really. The neck is just a habit. Biting into the throat knocks people out quick, and he never wanted it to last longer than it had to. He was never cruel, but he was always hungry. “Where?”

“Hm.” Clint looks down at himself and then holds up his left arm. “Wrist? Nat likes it. Sometimes we watch TV.”

Bucky doesn’t know who Nat is, but he’s impressed by the control that statement implies. He’s never been able to focus on anything other than blood running into his mouth.

“Well, I watch TV.” Clint shrugs as he starts digging in his pockets. “Dog Cops, mostly. You like it?”

“Never seen it.” Bucky hasn’t watched TV in years, although he’s caught the news a few times when he wandered through waiting rooms and bus stations.

“It’s great.” Clint pulls a knife out of his pocket, flicks it open, and casually cuts a line across his wrist. “Here, did you---”

Bucky holds himself in place until Clint moves his arm up, clearly offering, and then he’s on him in half a second. Can’t keep still. He can smell it, almost taste it, and then he can taste it, and he couldn’t hold back the noise he makes, greedy and grateful and pleased, for a whole body’s worth of blood.

He has been hungry for so long. Withered and frozen, on the edge of a death that can’t take him, because he’s already gone.

It’s sunlight after darkness, and water after thirst, and warmth after cold. Nerves that had shriveled away burst back to life just to sing about how good it is. It tastes like salt and iron and life. It’s the best thing he’s ever had.

It tastes like a gift. There’s no fear in it, no pain. It’s like swallowing honeyed sunlight.

“Fuck,” Clint says, low and throaty, head hitting the back of the couch.

“What,” Bucky says, prying himself away, flinching back. There’s blood on his lips, and he licks it away. “Did it hurt? Did I--”

“Um,” Clint says, blinking his eyes open. He looks dazed. Uncertain, maybe. Surprised, definitely. But not hurt, and not worried. “You, uh.” He clears his throat. There’s a blush rising on his face, and Bucky should read it as embarrassment, but it hits like a tease, Clint showing blood like that. “It’s been a long while, huh?”

Bucky swallows. He can taste Clint in his mouth, all that life and wilderness, caffeine and strength. He’s never tasted blood like this. He didn’t know how different it would be, freely given.

“Sorry,” he says, carefully. Because he isn’t, yet, but he will be, as soon as he knows what he’s supposed to be sorry for. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No,” Clint says, eyes widening, empathetic enough that it’s clear he means it. “You’re fine. Sorry. You’re good. Go ahead.”

He lifts his wrist up again, and Bucky can’t hold back, not with the scent of fresh blood that close. He’s more careful this time. The cut is freely bleeding, and he left teethmarks when he didn’t need to. He licks at them in apology, and Clint’s head thunks against the couch again, but he doesn’t say anything or pull away.

He’s careful this time. Gentle. He waits for what he’s given.

He’s a monster, but he doesn’t have to be an asshole. He can be better than what Hydra made him. He will be.

The cut seals up completely maybe ten minutes later. It’s impressive, since Bucky’s been worrying at it this whole time. Shifter, he thinks. Accelerated healing. It’s good to know. It’s reassuring.

He pulls back slowly, licking up the last of it, and he’s buzzing everywhere, feels like he’s been drinking something electric. He’s shivering again, but it’s just confused nerves, sending up question marks instead of anything his brain can interpret.

He slumps back against the couch, warm and sated, half-convinced that he’d disappear entirely if his body could work out whether it wanted to melt into the floor or float right out the window. He’s so dazed that it takes several long moments for him to work out that something’s wrong with Clint.

“What,” he says, snapping aware, adrenaline hitting with a potency he’s forgotten.

Clint’s heartrate is up. When Bucky looks at him, he tips his face away, and all Bucky gets is a quick flash of flushed cheeks and something in his eyes that looks a lot like worry or guilt.

“Shit,” Bucky says. He shoves himself back, gives Clint room to breathe. “Sorry. Was it too much? Did it—I didn’t think it hurt. You could’ve told me. I would’ve--”

“Didn’t hurt,” Clint says. His voice is different, lower than before. He covers his face with his hand. “Look,” he says, “did you do that on purpose?”

“No,” Bucky says, because, whatever the hell he’s done, he definitely didn’t do it on purpose.

Clint breathes out. He laughs a bit on the end of the exhale, and Bucky smiles, nervous, confused. “Yeah,” Clint says, finally looking over. “I thought so.” He smiles back, and it’s shakey, but not scared.

Bucky relaxes, just a little. The scent of blood is fading, as is the lazy stupor from before, and there’s something kicking around in his head, some distant awareness he’s heading toward.

“So, um,” Clint says. “For future reference. When you’re feeding like that, it tends to create a sort of feedback loop.  It’s, uh. It’s probably not polite to get that into it.”

Bucky blinks at him. “What,” he says, one more time, and then, suddenly, he gets it. He gets exactly why Clint is twisted away from him, flushed to the tips of his ears, trying to fake calm through a hell of a heartrate.

Feedback loop, he thinks. Get that into it.

“Holy shit,” Bucky says, because those are the only two words he can find in his brain.

“Yeah,” Clint says, kind of faint. And then, again, much more definitively, “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says. “I didn’t know it would--”

“It’s fine,” Clint says. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t know, and it’s fine.” He holds his hands up in a pacifying gesture, and Bucky’s eyes catch on a small line of blood that must’ve escaped his attention, drying halfway down Clint’s forearm, shockingly red against the healthy tan of his skin.

Bucky runs his tongue over his lip, eyes dragging up the lean, muscled line of Clint’s arm, and Clint groans. “Jesus, man, c’mon. I’m trying to live here. Don’t look at me like that.”

He doesn’t sound angry or scared, which is good, because Bucky gets nervy about things like that. His panic response runs straight to Hydra, and he can’t be anything but a monster when he gets dragged back there.

But this is different. This is something human, and there was never any space to be human when Hydra kept him in their cells.

He was someone else, before Hydra found him. He’s been remembering it in pieces. He used to be Bucky Barnes.

“We can, uh,” Clint says, slowly, “watch Dog Cops?” He’s giving Bucky a searching look, head tipped to the side in thought, eyes narrowed.

Bucky’s warm and full and awake, after months of being cold and starving and exhausted.  He’s lit up from the inside, feels so damn content that he could shame housecats in sunlit windowsills.

He grins at Clint, slow and pleased, knowing and a little smug.

“Okay,” Clint says, “now you’re being an asshole. The thing before was an accident, but you don’t get to make that face at me and pretend you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. I am a Good Samaritan. I have fed the hungry. I am a saint, and I do not deserve this persec--- oh, shit, hi.”

“Is it impolite?” Bucky asks. He thought to ask, and he’s proud of that. He acknowledges that it’s probably poor form to ask after he’s crawled half on top of him, mouth a few scant inches away from Clint’s. “Kissing you, right after I--”

“Yeah, I’m really not that great at etiquette,” Clint says, already a little breathless, and then he curls a hand in Bucky’s shirt and pulls him in.