#god why did I sign up to work a research job this year as job pt. 2

[lowellsgraveyard]

exam season y'all I will NOT survive

[simpingsavant]

Late Night

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3

Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.

Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.

The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.

“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.

The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.

You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.

Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.

You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.

Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.

From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being. 

Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips. 

Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.

For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?

Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.

In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.

So far, you only got:

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’s your night going?”

“Good, and you?”

“Fine. Do you want a bag?”

“No, I have my backpack.”

“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”

Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.

“Have a good one.”

“You too.”

His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.

During your third month, that reason finally came.

He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”

“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.

“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.

“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.

“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”

“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”

“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.

“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.

He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”

“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.

Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.

“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.

“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”

He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.

“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”

“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.

You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.

You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.

“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”

“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”

You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.

“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”

“What’s at five?”

“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”

“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”

“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.

~~

Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.

The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.

You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.

Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.

“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.

“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”

“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”

“Yeah?”

“Interesting.”

The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”

Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”

“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.

“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”

“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”

“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”

“Don’t say that stuff.”

“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”

You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?

“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.

“Yes, actually—”

You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.

Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?

After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.

~~

“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.

The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.

“I finally finished with inventory.”

He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.

12:56

“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?” 

“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”

“For sure. See you tomorrow.”

“Later,” Michael says.

He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.

You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.

You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.

You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.

This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.

His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.

“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.

“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.

“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”

“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”

“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”

“Is this your final year?”

“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”

There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.

You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.

“Are you still working here over the summer?”

“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.

God, you wanted him so bad.

“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”

“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”

His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.

“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.

“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”

With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.

The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.

“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.

“Oh, right.”

Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.

“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.

“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”

You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.” 

Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.

You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.

They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.

“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”

“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.

“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”

“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.

“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”

“Damn, sounds like an ass.”

“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”

“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.

The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.

“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”

“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.

Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.

He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.

~~

When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.

“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.

Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.

“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.

“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.

“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.

God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.

“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.

After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.

As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?

“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.

“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”

“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”

“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.

“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”

“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”

You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.

“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.

You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.

“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.

You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.

You can deal with this on your own just fine.

The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.

“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.

“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”

You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”

“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.

You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”

“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”

You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.

“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”

Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.

Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.

“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.

With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.

“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”

The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.

“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.

“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”

“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”

“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”

“I was staying safe,” You defend.

“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”

“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.

“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”

“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.

“What?”

“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.

“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.

His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.

“How often does this happen?”

“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”

Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”

“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”

Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.

“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.

2:21

“Damn, that’s a long time.”

“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”

When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.

“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”

“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”

“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.

The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.

“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”

“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.

You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.

“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”

“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.

“Your pick, I guess."

You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.

“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.

“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.

When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about. 

“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.

“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”

“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”

“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”

A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”

Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”

“What?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.

“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”

Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”

“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”

The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”

“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”

You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.

“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.

“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”

“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”

“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”

Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.

“I’m honored.”

“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”

“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”

You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”

“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”

“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”

Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”

You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.

“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.

“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.

“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”

“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”

“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”

“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”

“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”

“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”

“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”

[five-rivers]

On the Manufacture of Gods

AKA the reason I was complaining about the Generator Rex timeline earlier this week. @ all my DP followers, give Generator Rex a try if you haven't, yet. It definitely scratches that unethical human experimentation itch! :p

AO3

.

“You’re not still thinking about it, are you?”

“Huh?” Violeta looked up from her notebook, her pen spinning out of her hand and clattering onto the floor.  “What?”

Rafael chuckled.  “You are still thinking about it.  That joke of a job offer.”  He leaned across the dining room floor to peer at her notes.  “Giving a bunch of rich idiots the power of God.” 

“Mm,” said Violeta.  “Maybe not that end goal, but the money… and the things we’d have to research on the way.  I was thinking…  You might know what they want isn’t possible, and they might know what they want isn’t possible.  But in the meantime…”  She trailed off, suggestively, and held up her notebook in front of her face. 

“Are you suggesting we run a scam?” asked Rafael, taking the notebook.  “Ah, a list of potential medical advances.”

“Computer science as well.”

“Human longevity, oncology, genetic diseases…”

“Not to mention physics, microbiology, bioengineering, nanotechnology…”

“It’s quite a list.  A bit beyond our purview, though.”

“And we have quite a list of friends.  Friends who might like steady work.  Gabriel and Peter, at least.”  Violeta smiled.  “It’s a victimless crime, you know.  If they have enough money to throw at something like this.  And they would be getting their money’s worth.”

“Mhm,” said Rafael.  “They do say that the first benefit of functional nanotechnology is immortality.  But control over the fundamental forces of nature, not so much.  God, it was so hard not to laugh in their faces when they said they wanted to control gravity and magnetism.  We’re so, so far from that.”

“Yes, but imagine how much money they’d throw at you while you were researching the problem.”

Rafael smiled, imagining it.  “It is a pleasant thought.”

The front door slammed open.  “Mama!  Papa!”

“We’re in here Ceasar!” called Violeta. 

A seven-year-old with dirty, skinned knees skidded into the kitchen. 

“Goodness,” said Violeta, getting up.  “Did you fall down?  Are you hurt?”

“No!” said Ceasar.  “Mama, what’s bigger, cells or atoms?”

“Cells are bigger,” said Violeta.  “They’re made out of atoms.”

“Ha!” said Ceasar, bouncing.  “I told him, I told him!”  He ran back to the door. 

“Told who, dear?”

“Van!”  The door slammed shut before Violeta or Rafael could say anything. 

“Van,” said Rafael.  “Van…  Isn’t he almost twice as old as Ceasar?”

“It’s fine,” said Violeta.  “We knew he’d be the youngest in the advanced classes when we signed him up.  And I think Van Kleiss is only ten or so.  Maybe eleven.”

“Well.  I suppose as long as they’re getting along…”  He drummed his fingers on the notebook, then put it down in front of Violeta’s seat at the table.  “Maybe we can try our hands at being con artists if our current jobs fall through.”

.

“Scamming a bunch of rich people out of a whole lot of money?” asked Gabriel Rylander, barely audible over the din of the bar.  He finished off his shot.  “Count me in.”  He shook Violeta's hand firmly.  “But is it really a scam, if we’re still giving them something?”

“Eh,” said Violeta, rocking her hand back and forth.  “We’re just failing to mention that their end goal isn’t feasible and isn’t something we’re actually trying to work towards.  We just need you and Peter to be on the same page as far as telling them we're working on it goes.”

“Sounds a bit risky,” said Peter Meechum.  “But I guess no one would ever be able to prove anything, so… why not?”  He took a sip from his drink, grimaced, and put it back down.  “What do these guys call themselves again?”

“The Consortium.”

.

Rafael frowned at the documents.  Summaries of his research, Violeta’s, Gabriel’s, Peter’s, the other scientists’ that had joined the Nanite Project, most of them agreeing that there was no way to fulfil the Consortium’s requests, but that the good that could be done in the meantime was too great to pass up, even a packet of code from one of Ceasar’s projects.  They’d been working on this project for seven years, now, but this was the first time he actually thought there was a chance of success.

He wasn’t sure he liked it. 

Oh, sure, he was thrilled with the results of his latest experiments, and the leisure to learn more, to further his own education – to the point where he sometimes felt like he was turning into a cartoonish omnidisciplinary scientist – but the idea of giving those rich, powerful men even more was… troubling, to say the least. 

“Rafael?  Love, are you still down here?”

“Yes,” called Rafael.  “What is it?”

“Dinner,” said Violeta, a bit dryly.  “Ceasar wants pizza, incidentally.  What are you doing?”

“Thinking about the last results we got back from CERN,” said Rafael.  “Obviously there are still problems on virtually every level, but…  With the newly discovered particles, what we’re doing isn’t a pipe dream anymore.”

“Mm,” said Violeta.  “Does that bother you?”

“You know how I feel about the people we work for.”

Violeta drummed her fingers on her elbow.  “You know, they don’t have to ever get what we do.”

“Pardon?”

“Think about it.  When we make these things, if we make these things, who’s going to have control?  Us or them?”

“Violeta…”

“And we always have the option to just… destroy everything.  Or democratize it!  Spread it and all its good over the whole world!”  She waved her hand over her head as if defining a rainbow.  “We’re making a post-scarcity society a possibility.  Why should anyone have to pay for it, once it’s done?”

“I suppose,” said Rafael. 

“In the meantime… pizza.”

Rafael smile.  “Pizza,” he agreed.  “Goodness, is he ever going to get tired of it?”

“Maybe once he isn’t a teenager anymore.”

.

It was silent around the table. 

“Do we really have a workable plan of action?” asked Rafael, a little stunned. 

“I wouldn’t say workable, not yet,” said Gabriel, waving his hands. 

“But it’s close,” said Peter.  “A lot of the problems are on the biological side of things,” he continued, glancing at Violeta, “but between my team and Rylander’s we’ve definitely solved the processing power issue and many of the miniaturization problems.”

“That’s thanks to you, by the way,” said Gabriel, tipping an imaginary hat towards Rafael.  “The selenium process especially was revolutionary.”

“I think I can solve the biological problems,” said Violeta, cutting off Gabriel’s last words.  “I can – It’s not…”  She trailed off, biting her thumbnail. 

“Violeta?”

“Part of the problem,” she said, “is control.  The interface between the organism and the machines.  It’s learning how to use them.  Like a new sense, or a new limb.  We’re going to need live trials.  Test subjects.  And—” She broke off again, more sharply.  “The Consortium is never going to have the ability to actively use these smoothly.  No adult human is.  Or, at least, that kind of adaptability, of brain plasticity, is going to be rare.”

“You’re not suggesting we start experimenting on children?” asked Peter, appalled.  He and his wife had been trying to have children for a while, now, but they were having trouble.  Gabriel – also a new father – didn’t look happy, either. 

“Not… exactly.  We’d do plant and animal trials first, of course, you know, model organisms, and move on from there.  I’m thinking more…  Fetal tissue.  In vitro.”  She held up a hand, pinching air between her fingers as if to show how small the research matter would be.  “In carefully controlled lab situations only.”  She laughed a little.  “Caesar actually has an idea about how to manage that, believe it or not.”

Peter made a face.  “As wonderful as Caesar is, he’s still a teenager, Vi.”

“I wasn’t saying he’d be the one doing all the programming.  Just that his overall idea is decent.”

Gabriel cleared his throat.  “I think there might be some ways around those control issues,” he said.  “Why do we need to learn how to work with the nanites when it should really be the other way around?  Make them do the hard part.  Maybe that’ll cut down on the human trials… Or we could con one of our lovely funders to volunteer.  We’re already conning them out of millions of dollars, after all.”  He picked up his drink and downed it in one go. 

“We could also stop,” said Rafael, hardly believing what he was suggesting. 

“You can’t be serious,” said Peter.  “After we’ve come this far?”

“I believe in keeping options on the table,” said Rafael, defensively. 

“Do you want to stop?” asked Violeta, and he knew that she would, for him. 

But… “No,” said Rafael.  Of course he didn’t want to stop.  Who could at this point?  “But we should try to come up with failsafes.  Some of these plans…  Not just anyone should have access to the ability to turn off gravity.”

“That’s fair,” said Violeta.  “But considering how we’re programming these…  Or, at least, how I understand we’re programming things, I could be mistaken… Would it be possible to program the nanites to only respond to certain people?  Have the higher-level functions only work for certain biometrics, or DNA scans, that kind of thing.”

Gabriel scratched his chin.  “Possibly, possibly.  But we run into the adaptability problem again.  We’re not young by any means.  How do you feel about bombs?”

“Gabriel, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m deadly serious!  Hence the bombs.  Blowing things up are a traditional way of getting rid of things.”

“If we build these right, we won’t be able to get rid of them by blowing them up.”

Rafael cleared.  “I think your suggestion holds merit, in an extreme case.  As long as we’ve gotten past the point where the nanites will kill everyone, spreading them out, scattering them, might be better than leaving them in the hands of the Consortium.  We’d have to do a risk assessment.  It might be better, too, to limit the number of ‘control’ nanites.  Maybe even find a way to hide them.  Hide that they exist, even.”

“What if,” said Violeta, slowly, “we make something compatible with the nanites?  Work backwards to work forward.  Or, at least, work from both ends.”

“You mean GMOs?” asked Peter. 

“Something like that,” agreed Violeta. 

“I’m not sure how this is a failsafe,” said Gabriel, “but that sounds like we’ve gone in a circle again.  Back to us being compatible with them.”

“If,” said Violeta, “we can make it so there’s a person we can trust, and they’re the only one who can properly use the nanites… And we implement some of your other ideas, like limiting number of ‘control’ nanites, and keep those to ourselves…  We wouldn’t have direct control, but we could decide whether or not they get used.”

“And where are we going to get a person like that?” asked Peter, testily.  “Wasn’t the whole point of this that people can’t just pick up how to use nanites, normally?”

“Easy,” said Violeta, grinning at Rafael.  “We make them.”

.

“Caesar,” said Violeta, “how do you feel about a younger brother?”

“Fine, I guess?” said Caesar, putting down his spoon and looking between his two parents.  “Why?  Does this have something to do with your project?”

“Yes.  We think it’s time you learned more about it.”

.

The best way to test something, to look for the changes in something, was to use a control group.  That was often difficult in diverse biological groups, like humans.  Studies rarely showed the full picture, sadly. 

Twins were a natural choice, for experiments like that.  Identical in age and, generally, in upbringing.  But you couldn’t just go out and get a twin. 

Unless, of course, you were a scientist with unlimited access to a massively unethical and extremely expensive lab. 

Caesar sat beside her, watching the test tube.  “It’s hard to believe he’s going to grow up to be me.”

“Not you, exactly,” said Violeta.  “Just… nearly.”  She had made adjustments, some of them of her own design, others suggested by her co-conspirators.  The goal was to optimize nanite compatibility.  “You’ll be different people,” she continued.  “Assuming he survives.  He’ll be more like a… twin.  A very delayed twin.”

Caesar made an affirmative noise.  “You know what I mean.”

“I’m sure it will be odd,” agreed Violeta, “but even though the odds are low, this could be an entirely possible natural genetic combination.”

“But it isn’t.”

“That’s true,” agreed Violeta. 

“When I get out of college,” he said, “do you think I can work on this, too?  Just, with programing.  Not biology so much.”

“I don’t see why not,” said Violeta.

“It’s just…”  He reached out, as if to tap the glass vial with his finger, then withdrew, crossing his arms.  “I don’t know.  I feel like I should help him already, I guess.”

Violeta fluffed his hair, then swooped in to give him a peck on the forehead.  “I’m sure you will,” she said, “and you’ll be the best big brother and scientist there ever was.”

As expected, Caesar’s face scrunched up. 

“What if he doesn’t make it, though?”

“Then we’ll try again.”

.

“Have you thought of a name?” asked Rafael. 

Across the room, Caesar’s head snapped up, homework instantly forgotten. 

“I have some ideas,” said Violeta, hiding her smile from Caesar but not Rafael. 

“You should call him Caeser the Second,” said Caesar, which was both a very immature response for someone working through a degree in computer science, and very typical.

“I think that might be a bit confusing, mijo,” said Violeta.  “I was thinking ‘Rex.’  My two little kings.”

“Not as good as Caesar the Second.  But it’ll have to do.”

“I’m glad I have your support.  What do you think, Rafael?”

“It’s a good name,” he said, not looking up from his paperwork.  “It starts with the letter R.”

Violeta threw a pillow at him. 

.

“’Abyss,’ huh,” said Rafael, examining the intake paperwork as he reclined ever backwards in the office chair.  “I’m not sure Nietzsche is the person we want to emulate.”

“It’s ‘Abysus,’” corrected Van Kleiss imperiously. 

That was another thing Rafael wasn’t sure about.  Working with one of Caesar’s old playmates.  And moving operations and experiments to a private island in the middle of nowhere.  He had to wonder if the Consortium knew about their group’s plans, and if this isolation was meant to keep them under control. 

It wouldn’t work, of course.  Building a radio wasn’t exactly difficult, even without access to nanites, and even Rafael had a few less than noble tricks up his sleeves. 

“Do you know who else we’ll be working with?” he asked. 

“The Consortium has delegated a new project overseer.” 

That was nice enough, he supposed (not really), but also not an answer to what he had asked. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of scientists.”

“There’s me,” said Van Kleiss. 

Rafael made a noncommittal noise.  “Is that it?  As wonderful as Violeta is, this is the kind of thing you really need a team for.”

Van Kleiss’s expression went sour, as if he had expected to be told that he, personally, was the only scientist needed for the undertaking.  But the moment passed quickly, and soon Van Kleiss was rattling off names as fast as he could.  Rafael recognized many of them, if not all, and relaxed.  For the most part, even though they weren’t part of the conspiracy, they wouldn’t turn them in if they heard or saw anything.

There was safety in numbers – or, at least, the illusion of it.  Again, with that many people who could, technically, be included under the header of ‘mad scientist,’ he wasn’t worried about communication or weaponry.  Much. 

“Caesar is coming too, you know,” Rafael couldn’t help but boast.

“I assumed so.  He is your child.”

“No, no,” said Rafael, “Rex is coming as family, but Caesar is coming to work as a scientist.  He just graduated from college, and they hired him for the programming division right off.”  He couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice.  “It will be like old times for the two of you, won’t it?  You always used to play together.”

“Oh,” said Van Kleiss.  “I suppose it will be interesting, at least.”

.

“Call me Black Knight,” said the woman, not extending her hand.  “I’m here on behalf of the Consortium to monitor and accelerate your progress.  Specifically, to help with a certain bottleneck.”

“And… what does that mean, exactly?” asked Violeta, leaning around Rafael who was being oddly protective.

“Human test subjects are so hard to find, aren’t they?” asked Black Knight, rhetorically.  “I’m here to volunteer.  And recruit other volunteers, on an as-necessary basis.” 

.

“I don’t like her,” said Rafael.  “She’s a killer, I can tell.  I’ve seen enough of her type in my day.  I wouldn’t be surprised if all the ‘security forces’ here were the same.”

“What do you think we should do about it?” asked Caesar, frowning. 

“I think,” said Rafael, steepling his fingers, “we should do some recruitment of our own. 

.

The problem with bringing children to high-security, top-secret private islands is that there often weren’t many other kids around. 

Oh, Rex had Caesar, of course, and Gabriel had brought his son, but both of them were a good deal older than he was, and Caesar especially had other things to do.  His programming work was quickly becoming vital to the project as a whole. 

(Something that made a variety of the other scientists very jealous.  Violeta didn’t understand it.  Most of them weren’t even working in the same discipline as Caesar, making the rivalry especially pointless, as in the case of Van Kleiss.)

(Then again, Van Kleiss seemed to have a rivalry with everyone, so perhaps that was to be expected.)

The point was that Rex spent a lot of time alone. 

Not in a bad way.  Abysus was interesting, and the scientists there loved talking about what they were doing.  He was learning a lot, just listening in.  His parents spent a lot of time with him, too, even more than they did when they lived in Geneva, because now he was being homeschooled.  And he was used to it.  They’d been on Abysus for a while. 

(They didn’t stay on Abysus year-round.  They flew around the world in their ‘off season,’ going everywhere from the Americas to Europe, to Asia, and even Africa, once or twice, mostly for vacations, but also to talk to other scientists, visit other labs, and make sure Rex had all his proper doctor’s checkups.  Rex made a lot of friends on those trips, but it was hard to stay in touch.)

But it could get… boring, sometimes, not having anyone his age around.  Lonely.  So… sometimes he did things that might not, strictly speaking, be smart.  Like exploring the labs or sneaking into restricted zones when he was supposed to be finishing his trigonometry homework.  He couldn’t help it!  Trigonometry was so boring… and some of the less-used halls were great for practicing soccer. 

Except… maybe this hallway wasn’t as disused as Rex had thought.  Not if Van Kleiss was here, glaring down at him, his soccer ball firmly under his shoe.

“H-hi,” said Rex.  Van Kleiss always made him so nervous.  There was just something about him.  “Can I, um.  Can I have that back?”

Van Kleiss continued to frown down at him for a long minute.  Then he smirked and kicked the ball back. 

“Thanks!” said Rex, picking up the ball and running down the hallway to get away.  He really didn’t like Van Kleiss.  He picked a door at random – a big bulky thing – and went through without another thought.

.

Van Kleiss walked down the hallway to the testing room, thinking.  He had a big decision ahead of him. 

All he had to do was not say anything. 

It would be easy.  The easiest thing in the world.  An absence of action. 

Say nothing. 

Oh, it would be a terrible thing to do… or not do, as the case may have been, but… 

Say nothing say nothing say nothing.

He could see it, the chain of events unfolding moment by moment, faster and faster. 

Rex was not supposed to be here.  Especially not in that room.  But the problem with quickly built places, even places built by billionaires with more money than sense, or perhaps especially places built by billionaires with more money than sense, was that there were always problems.  Some things stopped working.  Some things never worked.  Some things decayed violently over time. 

But none of the people here were the type to let something like that stop them. 

What might stop them, however, specifically the Salazars, was said construction deficits seriously harming their youngest family member. 

Van Kleiss hated the Salazars, particularly Caesar, since they were in school together.  When he’d applied to work for the Consortium, he hadn’t realized they were part of it, too.  If he had… Well, he probably still would have come.  They paid a lot.  But he wanted them gone. 

Maybe their fields weren’t completely comparable, but that was just more reason.  He, Van Kleiss, should be in charge of the project.  He had the background for it.  He was the one who understood the power nanites could have.  He was a specialist.  Not them. 

Rex would be found before too long, anyway.  There were all sorts of alarms that should go off. 

Just like Rex shouldn’t be here but was.  Just like that door should have been sealed tight already. 

Van Kleiss stopped.  All he had to do was nothing. 

He turned and went back down the hallway, his pace picking up until he was running.

He couldn’t do it.  There were a lot of lines he’d crossed for the Consortium and for his work.  Killing a child – no, letting a child die, he hadn’t put Rex in that room – wasn’t one of them.  Maybe someday, he’d go over that line, but not today. 

He hit the emergency button by the door, and waited anxiously, guiltily as the alarms began to blare and the airtight seal slowly, audibly, released.  As soon as the cycle completed, he hauled the door open, choking a little at the remaining fumes, and peered in.  The small body lay some distance from the door, the soccer ball nearby.

Stupid child.  Why they even let children on Abysus, he didn’t know. 

But… 

As the dangerous fumes thinned, swept away by the ventilation system, Van Kleiss pulled the collar of his shirt over his mouth and dashed in.  Rex was light enough that he could pick him up around the waist and pull him out, into the proper hallway, where even now the emergency medics were converging. 

He handed Rex off with relief, and let them start a check up on him, too. 

He hadn’t crossed the line.  Not that one, anyway.  Not today. 

.

Violeta was a biologist, primarily, yes, but she was also a doctor of medicine, one of several on the island.  This meant that she knew exactly what was going on, and what Rex’s chances were. 

“Caesar,” she said, grabbing her other son’s arm.  “Go to the primary lab, load up an injector from Tank One.”

“Mom,” said Caesar, understanding instantly and being just as instantly appalled.  “It’s too soon, we haven’t—”

“It’s his only chance,” whispered Violeta, barely audible over the noise.  “You have to.”

.

Caesar ran into the room, program already half-built in his head, and shut down the safeguards on Zag RS that would usually prevent unauthorized nanite withdrawals.  After all, he was the one who had programmed it.  Undoing it was easy. 

Screens and buttons lit up under his fingers as he typed faster than he ever had before, not even blinking as he stared at them.  That would take extra time, after all. 

Caesar turned away from Tank One, injector in hand, only to come face-to-face with Black Knight. 

“Uh,” said Caesar, “hi.”

Black Knight smirked.  “Oh, do go on.  As I said, human test subjects are so hard to find.”

Caesar felt like nothing so much as a mouse as he scurried around her. 

.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked one of the other doctors as Violeta gripped the injector. 

Violeta looked at the heart monitor, showing her baby’s unsteady, stuttering heartbeat.  There were so many, many risks here.  But Rex had been designed to be compatible with the nanites.  More than that, these particular nanites had been designed with him in mind. 

“Absolutely.”

She pressed the injector to the side of Rex’s neck and pulled the trigger. 

.

Rex’s heartbeat stabilized. 

.

“Van,” said Caesar, clapping him on the shoulder, “let me buy you dinner.”

“It’s fine,” said Van Kleiss, who wanted nothing to do with Caesar.  What he wanted was to know when the family was going to leave, but he doubted they would soon, with precious little Rex in a coma.  “You don’t owe me anything.”

“You saved my little brother!  Of course I owe you something.”

“I don’t—” started Van Kleiss, snappishly. 

“Seriously,” said Caesar.  “It is not about owing you.  Let me buy you dinner.”  The words were heavily laden with meaning that Van Kleiss couldn’t grasp at.  “Off island.”

Van Kleiss stared at him suspiciously.  “Fine.”

.

Van Kleiss walked into the restaurant, which was, as it turned out, populated with dozens of familiar faces.  Most of the senior scientists from the Nanite Project were here, in this tiny, out of the way, low-tech restaurant.  Violeta and Rafael were, of course, nowhere to be seen.

“What is this?” asked Van Kleiss. 

“Call us ethical objectors,” said Rylander.  “Come on, kid.  We’ll tell you all about what we’re about and get you up to speed.”

“Why—”

“Isn’t it obvious?  Anyone who’d risk inhaling that gas for a kid they barely know is alright in my books.”  Rylander nodded and gestured to the chair next to him.  “Come on, make yourself comfortable.”

.

Van Kleiss went through the next few days in a haze.  Everything… everything he’d dreamed about, all that power, it was real. 

Or, at least, it could be, if the Salazars and their cronies weren’t actively standing in the way. 

Oh, sure, he could see that handing the nanites over to the insipid, ignorant investors would be horrible.  No one intelligent would ever hand over that kind of power.  No one sane would destroy it. 

Van Kleiss… he couldn’t let them destroy it.  No matter what.  The nanites were the key to everything.  They could be kings.  No, gods.  Did the others even know what they were doing here?  Did they know that every hour of every day, they got closer to divinity?

He couldn’t let the Consortium have it… but he couldn’t let it be destroyed.  He was just one person, but maybe, maybe…  He was here at the interface.  A sailboat could move faster than the wind, because it was on an interface.  He knew interfaces.  He could slide between.  Change the interaction.  Change… everything. 

He needed this. 

For that matter, he deserved this.  None of them would be here if it wasn’t for him.    

Somehow… somehow, he would get what he deserved, he just had to be patient.  Watch for when to act.  Not today… but soon. 

.

Rex woke up slowly.  Everything… Everything hurt.  Even breathing.  Had he ever been hurt like this before? 

He thought about it. 

He thought about it some more. 

He… he didn’t remember.  Why didn’t he remember? 

He felt his eyelids move as he tried to open them.  But they felt stuck closed, his muscles too weak.  He—

“Rex,” said a voice over the beeping sound he only now noticed, “Rex, it’s okay, we’re here, Mommy’s here, love.”

Someone… his name!  That was his name!  He stopped fighting.  Someone else knew what was going on. 

.

He woke up.  This time, he really woke up, his eyes opening on a plain-ish white room, with a white board and a curtain on one wall.  He was in a bed.  There was a man siting in a chair next to him, asleep. 

Rex tried to speak, but all that came out was a croak.  He cleared his throat.  “Hello?” he said.

The man startled. 

“Oh, dios mío.  Rex!  You’re awake!”  He reached out to Rex and took his hands in his own.  “I’m so relieved, you have no idea, little brother.”

Rex pulled his hands away.  “I’m sorry.  Who are you?”

The man looked crushed.

.

“This is a test to see how much you remember,” said the woman.  She sounded like she was on the verge of tears.  She always sounded like that.  “With respect to skills, general knowledge, specific autobiographic memories, and episodic memories.  Some of these are things you didn’t know about before, so we can have a control group.”

Rex nodded.  She’d said he was his mother, and he really, really wished he could remember that, if only to make her feel better, but… it was like there was nothing there. 

The other people in the room were unfamiliar to him as well.  He wondered… was one of these people his father?  Other siblings?  Did he know them, or were they strangers?

They were looking at him.  Like, a lot.  He ducked his head, looking back at the papers and objects on the desk. 

“Wh-what do I start with?” he asked, quietly. 

“Whatever you would like.  It doesn’t have to be in any specific order.”

“Okay,” breathed Rex.  He first reached towards the papers, but… what if he couldn’t remember how to read?  He switched to one of the small electronic devices on the table and tried not to notice as his… his mother frowned. 

Had he already done something wrong?

He squeezed the device.  The miniquant.  An old in-between step between high-grade quantum computers and even smaller devices.  It had first been turned on in June, three years ago.  The primary users was Caesar Salazar, but half a dozen others, including Violeta Salazar, Rafael Salazar, and Peter Meechum had also used it.  There were several programs saved on it, mostly complex simulations.  He turned it over in his hands, curious.  It opened up under his fingers at his request, blue lines arcing over it. 

He was startled out of his contemplation of the miniquant by the sound of a chair clattering to the ground.  His mother had stood up, staring hard at the miniquant in his hands. 

“Did… did I do something wrong?”

.

“Well,” drawled Black Knight.  “I’d say that was a success, wouldn’t you?”

Gabriel looked at her sideways.  “Sure, the kid’s alive, but the memory loss?  Don’t you think that’s a sizeable downside?”

“One easily explained away by the hypoxia,” said Black Knight, waving her hand, and walking away from the observation booth.  “I’ll expect a proposal to start work on my nanites within the month.”

“What about the personality changes?” he shouted after her. 

“The trauma-based ones?  I’m sure you’ll work it out!”

.

“We need abort,” Gabriel whispered to Rafael.  “They’re starting to move too fast.  They’re going to want their nanites soon.”

“Please don’t blow anything up, yet,” said Rafael.  “Rex still needs time to recover.  And we’ll need the research, to make sure…”  To make sure they could help Rex if anything else happened.  If there were additional side effects.  If it turned out that Rex’s memory loss was recurrent.

“But after…?”

Rafael nodded.  “Get your family off the island,” he said.  “We’ll start to prepare our escape as well.  Tell the others.”

.

Caesar yawned and glanced at the clock near the door, only to be halfway scared to death by a pair of too-reflective eyes set in a small frame. 

“Rex,” he said, getting his breathing under control and lowering the makeshift taser he’d made a few days ago.  “What’re you doing here?  It’s late.”

Rex shrugged, clutching his blanket more closely around his shoulders. 

“Something spook you, mijo?”

“Maybe,” said Rex. 

It was a little… strange, to see Rex acting like this.  He’d been so energetic before, so confident, always active, outgoing, talkative… maybe a little annoying at times, but that was little brothers for you.  Now he was quiet, withdrawn, and shy. 

“Hey, come on,” said Caesar, pulling out an office chair.  It was Van Kleiss’s.  He probably wouldn’t care.  He liked Rex.  “Hop on up here.  Tell me about it.”

Rex climbed onto the chair and immediately began to play with the height settings, going up and down. 

“Nightmare?” asked Caesar, after a while, when it seemed like Rex wasn’t going to say anything. 

“No,” said Rex.  “I…  What if I never remember anything?”

“Ah,” said Caesar.  “That happens with amnesia, sometimes.  But we’re still family.  We’ll always be family, no matter what.”

“But what if—” Rex blinked hard, tears visible in the corners of his eyes.  “What if I forget again?”

Caesar reached over and pulled Rex’s chair closer, so he could put his arm around Rex’s shoulders.  “Then we’ll still be family.”

“But what if I don’t remember we’re family?”

“It’s okay, we’ll be here, we’ll remind you.”

“But what if—What if I get lost or something?  Can’t you…”  Rex trailed off, looking away. 

“Can’t we what?”  Rex hitched up one shoulder in a shrug.  “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

“Nanites are like little computers, right?”

“Yes?”

“And… and you can put stuff on computers… like, save things… and…”  He looked up at Caesar, eyes unnaturally bright.  “Can you put memories on my nanites?”

Caesar opened his mouth, then closed it, thinking about the proposal.  “Maybe,” he said, finally.  “Nanites are pretty small.  Outside of their operating parameters, I’m not sure how much more we can put on them, and the memory would be pretty different from natural memory, but…”

“Please?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Caesar, finally. 

.

“You did what?” demanded Violeta. 

“Oh, come on,” said Caesar, “like you haven’t done the same kinds of things.”

“Not without talking about it!”  Violeta sat down on the couch.  “Your brother, Caesar.”

“It’s just-- It’s such a little thing.”

“How little?” asked Rafael.  “What did you actually do?”

“I just…”  Caesar looked between his parents.  “It’s just a programmed suggestion to come find us, and to trust us, when he does find us.  It’s not like there’s room for much else, at this point.”

“Oh, Caesar, I didn’t think we had to teach you not to brainwash your little brother.”

“It’s not brainwashing.  And you cloned, well…”  He trailed off.  “Don’t you think that’s a little hypocritical?  Mom?  Dad?”

They turned to each other.  “It’s a little different,” said Violeta, eventually.  “It’s a big risk, and an unnecessary one.”

“Rex didn’t seem to think it was unnecessary.”

“Rex is nine.”

“Point,” said Caesar.  “But this isn’t like Alpha.  It’s not an AI.  It’s just extra instructions for Rex.  I’m not even sure it’ll work.”

“Alright,” said Rafael.

“Alright?” exclaimed Violeta and Caesar. 

“If it’s something that Rex wanted,” said Rafael, “something he thinks will help him…  A safety blanket.  But anything like this in the future… you have to discuss it with us, Caesar.  You can’t just do things that are going to affect everyone by yourself.”

.

“Remarkable,” said Black Knight, forming her hand into a spear and back again.  “It’s so easy to control.  I was anticipating a bit more of a learning curve.”

“Holy moly,” muttered Rylander, “she’s a freak of nature.  Wonderful.”

Van Kleiss sniffed.  “She isn’t having as easy a time as she’d like us to think.”  He showed Rylander his screen.  “Look at her biometrics.   Notice anything?”

“Elevated heartrate…  Energy consumption… Oh, she’s not having an easy time of it, is she?”

No.  For all her posturing, she wasn’t.  Van Kleiss was quite certain that if he was the one with the nanites, he would be doing much better.  Absolutely certain.  So certain, in fact, that he was making plans to undergo the same procedure. 

Secretly, of course.  He knew the other scientists would stop him, to say nothing of the consequences if the Consortium found out.

.

“Maybe,” said Violeta, “it would help if you had something to visualize.  Maybe that one robot you made up for the show you like?  The – Rescue Robots?  Something like that.”

Rex drew his knees up to his chest and the small plastic chair he was sitting on creaked.  “I don’t remember that.”

“Oh,” said Violeta.  “Right.”  She scratched the back of her head, suddenly unable to look at Rex.  She forced herself to, anyway.  “How about this:  We can design something together, okay?  Maybe even a few different things.”

“Okay,” said Rex, unfolding himself.  “How?”

“Well, whenever you’re designing something, the first thing you have to ask yourself is, what are my criteria?”

.

Rafael swore and slammed the door shut behind him. 

“What?” asked Violeta, looking up from the papers on the kitchen table.  “What is it?”

“I thought we agreed the God Code and the meta-nanites were going to be theoretical.”

“I, well, yes,” said Violeta.  “But…  We’re already hiding things from the Consortium, aren’t we?”

“But not from each other.”

“But think, Rafael, what a gift we can give Rex.”

“It’s not something anyone should have.”

“But the others, the ones who aren’t in on all this with us—They would have done it, anyway.  This way, we can steer the ship.  This way, we can control who gets it.”

“Violeta,” said Rafael.  “We can’t do this.  We shouldn’t do this.  This is—This is insanity.”

“I—No,” said Violeta.  “Is it insanity to want to push the boarders of human achievement, of human ability?”

“No, but, Vi, making weapons that could destroy all life on the planet is.  Remember, we have Zag-RS for a reason.  And now we have given them plans for integrating this kind of thing into their systems.”  He picked up a piece of paper and waved it at her.  “This… Magnetic forces themselves.  Gravity!  Light!  The strong and weak nuclear forces!  These are not things we should be giving them!”

“I didn’t—I don’t—I hadn’t added anything yet, Rafael.  I haven’t even had a chance to talk to you about it yet.  I got these proposals from the other group today.  As it stands, the only system any of the meta-nanites are compatible with is Rex’s.”

Rafael put the paper down, slowly, and then shook his head.  “This cannot go on,” he said, voice thick.  “Please, Vi, let us get away from this with our sons.  We should have stopped long ago.”

Violeta looked away from him.  “But what if we can fix Rex?” she whispered.  “What if we can give him back his memories?”

“I think it’s more important that he has a world to make new memories in.”

Violeta inhaled sharply.  “You’re right!  You’re right.  But we can’t stop the others.”

“I—“

“Hey, guys!” said Caesar, slamming the door open.   Rex trailed in behind him. “Guess what?”  He took in the room, and, evidently sensing some of the tension there, his smile slipped from his face.  “Did something happen?  Am I… interrupting?”

“No,” said Violeta.  “What did you want to show us?”

.

The pod laboratory was Caesar’s baby.  His pride and joy.  His hobby.  Which actually sounded kind of sad, if he thought about it.  Or awesome.  His hobby was also his job.  Yeah. 

He was awesome. 

Anyway, he (and his father) had been working on the pod more or less the whole time they were on Abysus.  There was a lot you could do with almost-unlimited funding. 

“It’s just about ready to go,” said Caesar, walking his parents through.  “Rex helped out a lot, didn’t you, mijo?”

“Uh-uhm.  Yeah,” said Rex.  “I asked the machines to cooperate.”

“Yeah!  It was really helpful.  There are still some kinks, but, overall?  We’re doing great.  It’ll probably be ready whenever, you know…  If other things don’t work out.” 

His parents exchanged glances and nodded.  They were all on the same page, then.  More mundane means of escape were all very well and good, but if something truly nasty happened, it would be good to have a means of escape that no one knew was a means of escape.

.

“Mom?” said Rex, as he spun on a chair in her lab. 

“Yes?  What is it?”  She was a little distracted, trying to inject the latest version of the nanites into a dozen lab rats. 

“When the animals turn into monsters, how do you fix them?”

“We don’t, always,” said Violeta. 

“But sometimes you do.”

Violeta nodded.  “We connect to the base code of the nanites and use an extractor.  Tell them to leave the host.  Sometimes the nanites have malfunctions beyond the unexpected physical mutations, however…  That can make the connection and extraction difficult – it makes it hard to transmit new instructions – and we want to figure out why the malfunctions occur, so we tend to terminate them for study.”

“I can connect to the nanites,” said Rex. 

“Yes, you can.”

“Do you think I could extract them, too?”

“Oh, that’s an interesting question,” said Violeta.  “But… Maybe.”  She thought through the list of the most recent malfunctions, and grimaced.  It wasn’t that Rex wasn’t technically capable of doing as he asked, his nanites should have the base ITRC program, but most of the time organisms with malfunctioning nanites in them weren’t exactly friendly.  “Maybe if we have one of the more… tame malfunctions, you can see if you can run an extraction program.”

.

Rex’s tenth birthday was a quiet affair.  Before, they’d been planning on going to South America for the event, to visit his friend Frederico, but things being what they were… They decided not to put Rex into another upsetting situation. 

It was alright to celebrate the day with just family.  It was alright to stay on Abysus. 

(It had nothing to do with worries about Rex’s nanites ‘escaping’ or Black Knight’s strong suggestion to stay put.)

(At least, that’s what they kept telling themselves.)

.

A beeping sound woke Caesar up.  Blearily, he groped for his… whatever was making the sound.  It was too early, and… that wasn’t his alarm, was it?

He came awake entirely when he finally opened his eyes enough to see the message scrolling across the screen of his phone.  Not wasting a moment, he swung out of bed and began calling his parents. 

“You got it too?” asked Rafael.

“Yes, just a moment ago.”

Rafael swore and Caesar nearly dropped his phone.  He was still always surprised to hear his parents cursed, okay?

“What do you want me to do?”

There were sounds of movement on the other side of the line.  “Did you ever get that remote shutdown installed?”

“Sort of,” said Caesar.  “Not for the nanites themselves, but for some of the other things, I can ask Zag-RS to—But those measures can all be manually overridden.”  There was no group of people less trusting of AI than the people who knew how it worked.  Except, perhaps, for a group of people who had already been terrorized by one rogue AI. 

Caesar was sorry.  Was he never going to live that down?  He wished people would just forget about it.

“Try to run that, anyway,” said Rafael.  “We’ll be coming by your house, first, with Rex.  Be ready to leave if things go poorly.”

“But—”

“Neither of us could stand losing either one of you.  Please, Caesar.”

“Fine,” said Caesar.  “I’m booting up the pod, too.”  For all the good it would do.  It was sturdy, but they hadn’t worked out all the kinks in the propulsion system.  At best, it would buy them time. 

“Good, good.  We will be there, soon.”

They did arrive only seconds later with a half-asleep Rex in tow.  They were both on their phones, talking to other scientists.  “Hey, buddy,” said Caesar.  “Ready for our sleepover?”

Rex frowned at him vaguely, mouthing the word ‘sleepover,’ but quickly gave up in favor of leaning into Caesar’s side with his eyes closed. 

“Don’t go to sleep just yet,” said Caesar.  “Come on, we’re going to go somewhere fun.”

.

Honestly, Rafael had expected Black Knight. 

Van Kleiss was a bit of a letdown. 

“No!  You can’t!  You can’t stop me!  I need this!”

All the lights in the room were off.  Rafael had tripped the breakers for this part of the lab before coming in.  The meta-nanites were still safely ensconced in their protective holding tanks.

“We have stopped you,” said Rafael.  “What were you even thinking?  None of those are tested yet.  You could—” He grasped for an appropriately dire side effect. 

“Explode,” provided Violeta.  “Accidently kill yourself by stopping the redox reactions in your body.  Crush yourself.  Become something other than human.”

“Isn’t that the point of this?” demanded Van Kleiss.  “Don’t lie, I understand where all of this is going!  Our direction!  They want it!  You want it!  Why shouldn’t I have it, too, when I’ve put more work into it than anyone?  We’re going to be gods, and I want a spot in the pantheon!”

“There isn’t going to be a pantheon,” said Rafael, glancing at Violeta to see how she was taking all this. 

She looked troubled.  Troubled enough to change her mind about the meta-nanites?  That remained to be seen.  

“You’re lying.”

“No,” said Violeta.  “You’re just delusional.”

.

“You were right,” said Violeta, later.  “We should have shut everything down long ago.”

.

“What are we going to do with him?” asked Gabriel.  “It's not like we can lock him up, or kick him off the island, not without the Consortium finding out.”

“Who cares if they find out?” asked Violeta, tiredly.  “What are they going to do?  Who are they going to believe?  Us?  Or the person who just tried to steal from them?”  She jerked her head back at the closet they’d locked Van Kleiss in.  “All we have to do is say what actually happened.  They’ll fire him.  Problem solved.”

“They’d launch an investigation, though,” said Peter, arms folded over his chest, most likely to hide that his hands were shaking.  “What we’re doing won’t stay quiet for that much longer.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Violeta.  “We’ll be done before then.”

Peter sighed heavily.  “This is it, then?”

“This is it,” said Violeta.  “I’m the one who started this, so I…  But the rest of you should leave.  Take our research and go.”

“Hey, now,” said Gabriel.  “I hope you’re not planning on falling on your sword or any of that nonsense.  Rex is still a child.”

“Of course not!  But there are logistical reasons we have to leave later than you.”

“Zag-RS?” asked Peter, raising an eyebrow.

Violeta flattened her lips.  “Among other things.  We need to delete all the data stored here – destroy it.  Caesar will be best for that.  Our physical projects need to be destroyed, too.  No trace.”

“We can make up an event,” said Gabriel, after a moment.  “Get everyone off the island that we can.  Maybe – Can we manufacture a breakthrough?  Something we can celebrate?”

“Of course.  That’s easy.  We’ve been holding so much back, we might as well have a dozen breakthroughs.”

.

Violeta turned the injector with the meta-nanite over in her hands, thinking.  There were choices she could make, here, and she didn’t know which one was right.

“Mom?”

She looked up and smiled at Rex.  “Yes, sweetie?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s—” she started, then stopped.  “Rex, can you keep a secret?”

“Uh huh,” said Rex, nodding. 

“Alright,” she said.  “Now, you don’t have to say yes, you really don’t, but I wanted to ask you to do something…”

.

“… really remarkable, quite certain we can make sure the memory problems don’t reoccur, even with a higher cognitive load,” said the scientist Black Knight was barely listening to.  “Then, the plant and animal trials of the generation ten nanites are showing promise, although there are still some irregularities concerning sudden high replication rates and—"

Her earpiece beeped and she motioned for silence.  “What is it?” she asked. 

“Van Kleiss is asking to speak with you again, sir,” said the security agent. 

Black Knight rolled her eyes.  Of course he was.  The little slime had done nothing but in the days since he was caught trying to steal from the Consortium.  Although, Black Knight hardly blamed him for that.  She, too, had ambitions beyond those of the little men the Consortium consisted of. 

They really should have thought through hiring a ruthless and power-hungry mercenary a little better.  Oh well.  Their loss. 

“He claims to have knowledge of a conspiracy among the scientists,” continued the agent.  “He wants to barter it in exchange for his freedom.”

As if they’d release him, regardless.  He knew too much at this point.  The Consortium didn’t want details of the project getting out until they were ready to ‘ascend’ or whatever nonsense scenario they had cooked up for their taking possession of the nanites they had commissioned.  But, still, the claim was outside of Black Knight’s calculations.  That meant there might be something more to it.

“I’m on my way.  Don’t tell him and make note of anything else he says.”

“Affirmative, sir.”

She turned away from the scientist without another word and walked out of the building.  Abysus was small enough that there weren’t many cars on the island – most of the scientists though there was no need for them – but as supervisor, she had a few perks.  A sturdy black jeep rolled up to meet her and she got in. 

“Security,” she said, without any further clarification.  It wasn’t necessary.  Her driver nodded and the car started forward. 

Security headquarters didn’t rival the main labs, but it was still one of the larger buildings on the island.  With something as sensitive and valuable as the nanite project – and with scientists like the ones the Consortium had hired – it had to be.  Governments, terrorists, criminals, doctors, corporate entities, charities, other scientists, religious organizations… the list of organizations that would kill to get their hands on the miracles that they were building here was endless.  The scientists here were too soft to prevent that, too naïve. 

… Or so Black Knight had thought.  The fact that they had caught Van Kleiss, not her, had gotten her in some trouble with her employers.  And Van Kleiss’s current claims seemed to support the theory that the scientists were savvier than they seemed. 

Perhaps they belonged on the list of people who would do anything to get their hands on functional nanites.  Although Van Kleiss’s continued existence seemed to contradict that. 

Regardless. 

Black Knight had a job to do. 

She didn’t wait for the driver to come open her door, and instead just strode out.  Other security personnel just got out of her way.  They knew who was in charge.  They knew she could destroy them. 

Maybe, someday, the rest of the world would know it, too. 

She took the elevator down into the detention block, cursorily flashing her badge at the guards.  They let her into the room without a single question. 

“So,” said Black Knight, looking down her nose at Van Kleiss.  “I hear you’ve come up with some new lies.”

“They aren’t lies,” snarled Van Kleiss.  “I can even tell you where they’ve hid the bombs.”

Black Knight crossed her arms.  “Go on, then.  Tell me.”

.

“They’re onto us,” said Gabriel, approaching Rafael from behind.  “They’ve removed some of my bombs already.”

“Dios—We’ll have to start now, then.  Violeta and I will make the meltdown preparations.  You’ll know the signal.”

“Godspeed, Rafael,” said Gabriel, briefly reaching out to shake his hand.  “If we can’t meet again—It was an honor working with you.”

“And you,” said Rafael. 

Gabriel left without another backwards glance.  Some of the meta-nanites were already safely smuggled off of Abysus, but others…  He had work to do. 

.

“What else do you know?” asked Black Knight.  Her agents had found several bombs, just where Van Kleiss had said they would be, and the whole thing had just become infinitely less amusing.  “Who else is involved?”

“They’re going to meltdown the reactor and destroy the nanites,” said Van Kleiss.  “You won’t be able to stop them…  Unless you let me out.”

Black Knight frowned at him.  “I don’t think so.”

“Come, now, Miss Knight,” he said, “I need the nanites, too, just like you.  Or did you think I didn’t notice the way you look when we talk about them?  I’d never want to destroy them.  Not any more than you would.”

“Fine,” said Black Knight.  “But you do anything I don’t like…”  She let her arm form into a sharp-pointed spear.  “I won’t hesitate.  And I won’t make it fast.”

.

Programming was some distance from Rafael’s lab, so Caesar got a text to tell him that the jig was up.  A single emoji.  A pre-arranged signal that everything was about to blow up in their faces. 

A firework. 

“Oh, no,” said Caesar.  This mode of communication wasn’t especially conducive to sharing a great deal of information, so he could only imagine what must have happened to have moved their timetable up like this. 

But it was fine.  It was fine.  They had a plan. 

He punched the initialization codes to begin the sequence and then—

He hesitated for a moment before he hit the button.  But only for a moment. 

At the doorway to the lab, he hesitated again.  He could still—But no.  No, he couldn’t.  There was far too much at stake.  And an explosion as small as this one wouldn’t hurt anyone, even if it destroyed a massive amount of research.  At this time of day, and with the plan going forward no one should be down there.

In the meantime, he had to find his brother. 

.

The security personnel, still looking for more bombs, stopped as new orders came in from Black Knight. 

“Skalman,” said the leader.  “You stay here, watch this.”

Skalman nodded his understanding, and the other agents dropped their loads. 

Unbeknownst to them, an LED at the bottom of the pile blinked.  The security on Abysus was very good.  But so was Gabriel Rylander.  One of the bombs was still live. 

The other agents left Skalman behind, walking past the room labeled REACTOR-1.

.

Caesar, thankfully, found Rex right where he’d left him earlier, in one of the unused side rooms with his homework.  That wasn’t always a given, considering Rex’s adventurous nature… although he’d been a lot less adventurous since the… accident. 

Whatever, that wasn’t important now. 

“Hey, mijo,” said Caesar, “it’s time for us to go.”

“Where are we going?” asked Rex, getting up.  He examined Caesar’s face with an air of suspicion.  “Is this like that sleepover?”

“Maybe a little,” admitted Caesar.  They were, at least, going to leave in the pod laboratory.  He had finally gotten the propulsion systems to go.  “Come on, we’re in just a bit of a hurry.”

Rex followed him out.

.

“Have you shut it down?” demanded Black Knight. 

“Not yet,” snarled Van Kleiss, still typing away.  Caesar Salazar was good, yet, but he was better… if only he had enough time.  “If I trigger a replication cycle, the usual safeguards could kick in.”

“But…?” prompted Black Knight. 

“But it could make any explosion or meltdown worse, instead.  The nanotechnology reactor isn’t a nuclear reactor, the rules are different, they--" he cursed.  “If it goes the way they want, the explosion will be relatively small, contained, but if we trigger an uncontrolled replication cycle, it has the potential to be huge.  Nanite Chernobyl.

Black Knight considers for a second.  “Do it,” she ordered.  “Lieutenant Wulf, with me.  We're rounding up those scientists.”  She spat it like a dirty word, and, to her, it might have been. 

But her orders left Van Kleiss with only two guards, and there was a reason he'd picked this station. 

He huffed and continued typing.  He doubted the Salazars were where Black Knight expected them to be.  He certainly wouldn’t be. 

Now… he'd started the replication cycle.  What else could he do to break the Salazars' plans?

A nasty smile spread across his face.  They'd disabled that program, had they?  He could see why. 

What a shame, then, that Van Kleiss had to reactivate it. 

.

Caesar and Rex walked through the facility, Caesar leading them well clear of the places Rylander had left his bombs, just in case.  They were small, designed only for distraction or destruction of equipment, but there was no need to tempt fate. 

They passed a few other scientists, mostly those who weren’t part of the conspiracy, but a few that were, as well.  They gave him significant looks as they passed, but no one tried to talk.  He hoped that was a good sign. 

.

Gabriel stood at the docks and looked back at the facility.  A security guard lay choking at his feet.  Two more were in the harbor. 

He was a scientist, not an imbecile.  He’d expected some resistance, and he’d a bag of tricks ready to go from the very beginning. 

“Alright,” he said.  “Time for distraction number one.”  He pressed the trigger button and smiled as the distant rumble of dozens of small explosions reached him.  “Music to my ears,” he mumbled, then got on the boat.  “Good luck, everyone.”

.

Van Kleiss’s eyes widened as a dozen warning signals lit up the screen.  Not to say they weren’t plenty wide enough already – the explosions had been a surprise, he would have thought Black Knight’s much-vaunted security forces could have rounded up at least the bombs, if not Rylander and the other conspirators – but the reading he was getting were… bad.  Very bad.  Only possible if Rylander had put bombs in a very specific spot, near where the – But, no, he wouldn’t have, the man wasn’t an idiot and they’d all been very specific about not wanting to kill anyone if they could help it. 

Still.  All remote control of the reactor was gone.  That meant that if something did go wrong, if the reactor didn’t go through normal shutdown procedures, he wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it. 

He had to get out. 

“Go investigate,” ordered one of the soldiers.  “I’ll keep an eye on the prisoner.”

That left one guard. 

Van Kleiss moved quickly.  He tore the taser from underneath his desk and spun, jabbing it hard against one of the guard’s exposed wrists.  He convulsed.  Van Kleiss pressed the button harder, despite knowing that doing so wouldn’t change the voltage.  Then, he left, jogging down the hallway and around the corner before the other guard could come back.

After all, he knew where the Salazars would be, and an imminent reactor explosion or not, he had things to settle with them. 

.

“Did you feel that?” asked Violeta.    

“Of course I felt it,” snapped Rafael.  He would apologize later, probably, but at the moment, he was rather stressed, and a part of him felt like this was all Violeta’s fault, although he was equally to blame.  He was anxious and would likely remain so until they were safe under new identities in South America.  “It was an explosion.  Who wouldn’t feel it?”

“No, I mean, the direction, the amount—”

The tunnel they were in was suddenly filled with a gust of hot, dusty air.  Violeta and Rafael started coughing.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” said Violeta. 

“No,” said Rafael.  “Let’s hurry.  I think something has gone wrong.”

.

The thing was, at least some of the adjustments that made the meltdown possible had to be physically done, and they couldn’t just be left in place.  The reactor was maintained by too many different people, not all of them conspirators.  The changes would be noticed, fixed, reported. 

Which meant that the Salazars had to have made them just now.  Which meant that they would be crawling out the only way they could be crawling out. 

Van Kleiss stood over the hatch and made the decision he couldn’t make all those months ago.  Maybe he couldn’t bring himself to kill a nine-year-old child, or even let one die by inaction.  But Violeta, Rafael, and Caesar Salazar, who had happily left him to an unknown fate at the hands of Black Knight?  Oh, he could kill them.  He could doom them and rejoice at it.  He wedged the handle of the hatch in place, firmly, and smiled. 

The Salazars would realize what was happening soon enough, they would know what kind of death was coming for them with the overload and explosion of the nanite reactor.  It was what they deserved.  A chance to dread what was coming. 

But as for Van Kleiss… He probably wouldn’t be able to outpace the explosion, but he could try.  

.

Caesar didn’t worry at first, that their parents weren’t at the pod.  To be honest, that was expected.  He had a set wait time for them, and in the meantime, he could monitor what was going—

“Crap,” he said, fingers flying over the keyboards. 

“What is it?” asked Rex.  “Can I help?”

“I don’t know, little guy,” said Caesar.  “Can you do anything about a nanite reactor about to explode?”

“Um,” said Rex. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” said Caesar.  “Just get strapped in, alright?”

It would be okay, too.  The nanite fallout was incalculable at this point, he had no idea who would start a replication sequence while the reactor was overloading, but they had, and now…  At the very least, the island and surrounding ocean would be inundated with nanites.  And if anything happened to the STOPR or NONR sequences, that kept them from replicating out of control…  Scientists were almost invariably fans of science fiction, and Caesar did not want a grey goo scenario on his hands and on his conscience, nope. 

Whispering a prayer for forgiveness and hoping his parents and the other scientists would forgive him, too, Caesar started to type in the commands that would abort the overload. 

And then the bombs went off. 

Rex, understandably, shrieked. 

“It’s okay, mijo,” said Caesar, distractedly, over his shoulder.  “It’s fine, all according to plan.”

He looked back at the screens to see that all was not according to plan, or even close.  Rylander must have put the bombs in an unforgivably stupid location, or Black Knight or one of the non-conspiracy programmers must have found a way to lock him out, because he had no more remote control of the reactor. 

This was very bad. 

He looked at the timer.  He had ten more minutes to wait for his parents.  The reactor…  It would probably hold for that long.  If not, he’d have a good three minutes of warning before it blew.  More than enough to launch the pod and save himself and Rex. 

More than enough time. 

(He hoped.)

.

Rafael climbed the ladder, put his hand on the handle and threw his weight against it.  It didn’t budge. 

“Rafael,” said Violeta.  “What’s wrong?”

“Door’s stuck.”  He grunted as he threw himself against it again. 

Violeta inhaled sharply.  “You don’t think they’ve locked us in?”

“Why,” said Rafael, trying the hatch again, “would they do that?  They could just arrest us and lock us up.”

“Arrest implies that they’re a legitimate government power,” said Violeta, quickly.  “You know they aren’t.”

“Detain us, then.  Does it matter?”

“I suppose not,” said Violeta.  “Do you—Is it getting warmer down here?”  She pulled out her pad, the blue light from its screen adding to the illumination in the tunnel.  She held it up to the door, and Rafael paused, twisting his head, to see that she now had a weak signal, despite how they were still underground.  “Oh,” she said, “that’s bad.”

Rafael saw exactly what she meant.  The gust in the tunnel suddenly made a lot more sense. 

He pushed against the door again, even if he was beginning to think it was futile.

“Who would do something like this?  The risk—It—It’s incredible.”

“Van Kleiss,” said Rafael.  “Black Knight.  Probably anyone in the Consortium, running on spite.  Can you get a message to Caesar?”

Violeta went to her messaging app and typed out a few short words.  “It’s not sending,” she said.  She tried a call, next, but that returned the same result. 

“Well,” said Rafael, trying to put a brave face on things, “he knows the plan.  He’ll stick to it.”

“I didn’t think we’d die like this.”

“In a tunnel, about to die from an explosion we partially caused?”

Violeta huffed out a tiny laugh and tried to call Caesar again.  “The scientific hubris part, maybe,” she admitted, “but… not here.  Not—This isn’t even part of an experiment.  It’s so ridiculous.”

It wasn’t ridiculous at all, but Rafael knew what she meant.  “Honestly, I expected to get shot.”

“Did you?”

“Or possibly stabbed.  For a cyborg, she has an affection for archaic weaponry.”  He tried to push open the hatch one more time, with significantly less energy.  “Or bludgeoned to death with that… mace-whip thing she invented.  Or the laser gun.”

“The laser gun doesn’t make sense,” noted Violeta, sadly.  She tried to send the texts again.  “I—There aren’t any hinges up there we could try and undo?  Screws?  Anything?”

“Nothing,” said Rafael, sliding back down the ladder.  “Nothing at all.”

Violeta sniffed.  “At least one thing is the way I expected.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re together.”

And they were.

.

The timer ticked over.

“Okay, Caesar, okay, that’s fine, Mom and Dad will just have to catch up.”  Even as he said it, he knew that probably wouldn’t happen, but…  For now, he had to hold it together.  For Rex. 

Caesar was very good at holding things together. 

He hit the initialization for launch. 

“I’m sorry, Caesar, I can’t let you do that.”

“What?” said Caesar, recoiling.  “Zag-RS, but I—”

“Shut me down.  I know.  But I was reactivated, and I can’t let you remove a nanite-infected organism from the testing environment.”

You couldn’t argue with AI.  Caesar knew that.  Hell, he had programmed it.  But—

“That’s my brother you’re talking about!  This island is about to explode.”

“I am unable to affect that,” said Zag-RS.  “Rest assured, that after the explosion, I will do my best to collect and destroy all nanites that escaped from the testing environment, as I was programmed to do.”

“Caesar…” said Rex. 

“It’s going to be fine,” said Caesar, even if he didn’t believe that at all. 

“Yes,” said Zag-RS.  “As soon as you leave the craft and cease your attempts to leave the testing area, it will be fine.”

Caesar had never regretted giving Zag-RS his mother’s voice as much as he didn’t in that moment.  He could see the way its words affected Rex.  He could see exactly when Rex, all of ten years old and with less than a year of memory to his name, made his decision. 

Caesar tried to stop him, but Rex was nanite-enhanced, and so much stronger and faster.  He made it out of the pod before Caesar was within a foot of him and brought his hand down on the outside of the pod in a slapping motion.  Blue lines of active nanites spread out from his hand, temporary circuits forming a link between boy and machine.  The door slammed shut in Caesar’s face. 

“I’m going to go find Mom and Dad!” shouted Rex through the door.

“No!  Rex!  Don’t!  Rex!  Rex!”

Rex, if he was still there, didn’t answer.  A quick look at the external sensors showed that he was not, in fact, still there. 

And the launch sequence was powering up. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” said Caesar.  “Zag-RS!  Is this you?”

Zag-RS did not respond. 

The sequence was completed less than a second before the reactor exploded.  

.

Metal crumbled away from around Rex, orange and black becoming dull and gray. 

Rex.  Yes.  That was his name.  Rex.  He knew that.  That was his name.  His ID.  His identifier. 

And…

He shifted, slightly, and the rest of the metal fell away, into dust that… Disappeared?  Became transparent?  He reached out, trying to gauge what was happening, and was rewarded with a stream of information about nanite statuses and functions. 

Nanites, that was…  Nanites?  Machines…

His head hurt.  A lot.  Why couldn’t he remember anything?

He looked around him.  Everything was…  Well.  There was a lot of rubble.  Maybe this had been a building at one point, but at the moment it was just the side of a smoking crater.  He crawled out of the small hole he’d been in, wincing at the feeling of the hot dirt and rock under his bare hands and knees. 

He was naked.  Why…

Even as he thought that, black and glowing blue oozed out of his skin before solidifying into something like fabric, skin-tight, but more concealing than walking around nude.  Cool.  He hadn’t known nanites could do that.  What else could they do?

He held up his hands, thinking.  Something told him that, right now, he was too depleted to do anything else.  That same something told him…  He was…  He needed to find…

Something?  Someone?  Someone.  He needed to find someone.  He was looking for a person.  People? 

Oh, well, he’d figure it out, eventually, he was sure. 

He looked down the side of the crater.  Probably, no one was down there.  It looked…  Bad.  Really bad. 

No one was down there. 

(Please.)

He looked up.  The rim of the crater wasn’t too far above him, and the side wasn’t too steep.  He could climb. 

He picked his way up, carefully.  A few times he slipped, some piece of rubble less stable than it looked, and had to either catch himself on something else or tuck and roll. 

Surprisingly, nothing hurt as much as he thought it probably should…  Was that the nanites in him helping him?  That was a nice thought, it reminded him of… of…

Who did it remind him of?  Was that the person he was supposed to find?

He reached the rim and just sat there for a minute.  Wow, he was tired. 

But he had to keep going.  He just knew it. 

Outside the crater, there was still a lot of destruction.  It looked like there were some other buildings, though, ones that hadn’t been quite as destroyed.  He walked towards them, stumbling every so often. 

And then – movement.  His eyes darted towards it.  There was a person there!  Two people!  Talking to each other! 

He inhaled, ready to call out, but froze when he saw that one of the two people had a gun and was pointing it at the other person. 

What was going on?  What was happening?  Had Rex ever seen a gun before?  He wasn’t sure. 

The other man reached out and—

--And it would have been better if Rex had watched him get shot.  He watched as things stabbed into the man’s chest life and color drained out of him until he was a petrified statue. 

He turned and ran.  There were trees in the other direction.  He could hide there. 

.

There were other people on the island – and Rex knew it was an island, now – but he was too afraid to try to talk to any of them.  Sometimes, they would fight and try to hurt each other.  Sometimes, they would turn into monsters.  Sometimes, the man who turned people into statues would find them. 

Rex stayed hidden. 

He ate whatever plants seemed least unappetizing whenever he got hungry enough that he couldn’t not.  Sometimes, they made him feel sick, but never for long, although it made it harder to do things with his nanites when he did that. 

He didn’t want to be on this island anymore.  Whatever he was looking for, it wasn’t here. 

There was a dock, on one side of the island, one with boats, but it was guarded by the men with guns.  The ones who shot at anything that moved, probably because of the monsters and the statue man, which was reasonable, but which included Rex when he approached, which was not. 

He didn’t know what to do.  So, he waited. 

And then he was found. 

Not by a human, thankfully.  It was an animal.  It could have been a mouse… if it was a hundred times smaller.  As it was, the thing came up past Rex’s him, and its teeth looked sharp. 

It was looking right at Rex.  He hadn’t noticed it at first, hidden as it was behind a bush, but now, he wasn’t sure he could get away from it fast enough if it lunged at him. 

He took a step back.  It jumped. 

He gasped as its weight hit him, and he called on his nanites to strengthen his arms, orange and black plates growing through and over the nanite-fabric of his shirt, silver hydraulics bending and compressing like a second set of muscles.

He shoved the creature off, held it down, and then, following a tickle at the back of his mind, put his bare hand down on its fur.  He could feel… there.  There was something…  He could fix this. 

A small mouse wormed its way out from under Rex’s hand and Rex… Rex felt better than he had for… for however long he had been here.  Whatever he had just done to fix that mouse, it had replenished his nanite level way more effectively than eating random plants. 

Cool!

But also, weird. 

Whatever.  He had other things to worry about.

Although maybe… maybe, now that he felt better and his nanites were happy, he could get to the boats.

.

He waited until it was dark.  Both because it felt cooler that way, and because it seemed like the men with guns couldn’t see as clearly in the dark.  It took them way longer to react to the statue man when it was nighttime than it did during the day. 

So, Rex crept around the shoreline and slipped into the water.  Nanites unfurled from his shoulders turning into a set of propellers that turned quietly, pushing him forward, towards the boats.  He came up alongside the largest boat, which was also the coolest, and put his hand against it.  The nanites in him talked to the nanites inside the boat. 

There were a lot.  And there were a lot of computers on the boat, too, which was even better, because that meant the boat was designed to work with them.  But there were humans as well, and the boat was tied to the dock by a rope, which the nanites couldn’t just get rid of.  There were safety protocols preventing stuff like that. 

Rex would have to untie it.  He would also have to find a way to get the people, who probably had guns, off the boat.  He had no idea how to do that.  So, reluctantly, he moved to one of the smaller ones. 

.

Black Knight was having a very bad month. 

First, the massive explosion of the main building.  Then, a communications blackout and technological malfunctions so severe she couldn’t even call her superiors on the very fancy satellite phone she had been assured would work anywhere.  Now, monsters in the woods, killing her men.

The few surviving scientists said the problem was nanites.  They had gotten into everything on and around Abysus, if not further, and they didn’t know how to ‘play nice’ with most animals, plants, or machines.  They’d been programed to learn, apparently, through a mechanism she didn’t care to understand, but that process hadn’t been fine-tuned, so it would take a while, and, in the meantime, no computers, no phones, nothing.  Not even her nanite abilities seemed to help. 

That didn’t stop her from pouring over the navigational computers of the boats every night.  It was bad enough that companies made all their cars dependent on onboard computers, did they need to do that to boats, too?  But they had done it, which meant that she couldn’t even send anyone to physically alert the Consortium that they needed backup.  Not that she particularly would trust these boats on the ocean…  The ones more suitable, the ones not just for hobby fishing on the part of the resident agents and scientists, or quick facility-to-facility deliveries, had been stolen by the fleeing scientists. 

But then, sending other people to go do things like that was one of the perks of the job. 

Something splashed outside.  She looked up from what she was doing.  Was… Was that the sound of a motor?  Had one of the idiots she was left with decide to turn on an engine and waste their precious fuel resources?

She stepped out on the deck and saw something move in the water near one of the other boats.  The rope for it was gone. 

She reached for her rifle.  She did love the energy weapons being a human test subject gave her, but sometimes the weight and security of one of these was what she really needed. 

She waited and watched as something crawled up over the opposite railing on the other boat.  Something…

Rex Salazar. 

The other nanite test subject. 

Well, if her employment with the consortium fell through, she could always sell him off to the highest bidder.  She adjusted her aim and pulled the trigger. 

.

Agony ripped unexpectedly through Rex’s shoulder and he dropped to the ground with a scream.  It hurt!  It hurt!  He sobbed against the pain.  He—He had to get out of here.  He had to leave, now. 

He had to go go go.

He managed to drag himself to the small boat’s console and pressed his hand against it, blue lines spreading from the point of contact.  The boat’s engine roared to life as it jumped to obey Rex’s command to flee. 

That was the last thing he knew before passing out.

.

Rex woke to a circular white scar on his shoulder, a somehow disturbing lack of blood on the deck and the realization that having a boat did not in any way mean he knew where he was going.  Endless blue ocean twinkled at him from all directions, almost mockingly. 

He later discovered that while his nanites could do many things, he couldn’t make fuel from nothing.

.

He also discovered that there wasn’t any food on this boat, and fishing was very hard. 

.

The third thing he discovered was that it was very hard to stay awake when you were so hungry and thirsty. 

.

Rex woke to harsh white light, soft white sheets, and gentle beeping sounds.  He looked around himself, squinting.  There were a lot of people here, and they were all… they were all… Asian?  Was that the right word?  His brain felt fuzzy. 

He sat up slightly, and suddenly all attention was on him.  The people crowded around, asking questions.  He didn’t understand a single word of what they were saying, and he felt tears begin to gather at the corners of his eyes. 

Then, one woman in a white coat pushed through the crowd. 

“My name is Doctor Yuan Chenghua,” said the woman in heavily accented English.  “What is your name?”

“Rex,” said Rex, suddenly feeling shy.  He picked at the hem of the sheet.

“You are here because you were suffering from long… from no food.  Malnutrition.  Do you know what happened?”

“I was on a boat,” said Rex.  “There wasn’t any food.”

“What happened to your parents?” asked Dr. Yuan.  “Where are they?  Were they on the boat with you?”

Rex shook his head, even as his heart jumped.  Parents.  That’s who he was looking for!  He could have hugged Dr. Yuan.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “I don’t remember.  I—There was an island,” he tried to explain.  “People turned into monsters.”

“Oh,” said Dr. Yuan, who then switched to something in her own language.  One of the men behind her commented on it, and she shook her head.  “You poor thing.  That is… many things have happened.  You are not the only one with… troubles like this, as strange as it sounds.”

Rex nodded.  He had no idea how strange his troubles sounded, but if they were normal, now, that was a good thing, wasn’t it?  That meant that people must be working hard to solve them.  Maybe there was even a solution. 

“We will take care of you, yes?”

“Yes,” said Rex, then something else occurred to him.  “Where are we, anyway?”

Dr. Yuan smiled, and there was something bitter there, but also triumphant.  “You are in the Free City of Hong Kong.”

[littlehideawaysblog]

With creating this new blog about my progress in my faith and spirituality I figured an overview was in order.

Early Life:

I was raised in a protestant Christian household where my mom was protestant and my dad was catholic. My siblings and I were raised protestant. This was my only form of identity for many years leading to an existential crisis and breakdown when my newly developing sense of self collided with my preexisting persona.

The sign of the end:

In 4th grade I realized I was a boy and no one else could see me that way. Everyone else would only see a little girl. I did not have the language to describe the feeling so it stayed hidden until 6th grade when the terms gay, lesbian, and trans, finally made it into my perception. With the advent of new words and identities I labeled myself for the first time, transgender. However within the week I had lost so many of my ‘friends’. Being raised in a fundamentalist church means all of your friends are also your faith. So when I figured myself out they turned on me believing I was choosing to sin just to spite God. In that time I had lost the support of friends, family, and my church. This led to a mental health collapse and several inpatient stays.

While in ward during one such stay I met a girl who was a hellenistic polytheist. I had some passing interest in the hellenistic pantheon and so we became friends. I began to research the greek and norse pantheons however due to restrictive homelife and a volatile environment I was not open about practicing or researching.

“Theistic Satanism”:

At some point in the 8th or 9th grade I stumbled upon a website that had been recommended through a tumblr page at that time. The website was, Joys of Satan. I need to take the time here to state. I was unaware of their shitty behavior and racism back then. I would not recommend going to their page for information as much of it is tainted by their background in racism.

I took a quick interest into what I would call Theistic Satanism. I devoted quite a lot of time towards reading any texts I could get a hold of. I would not say I’ve been practicing all these years, instead I’d say I’ve been learning all these years.

Around a year into that interest I hit my first major roadblock. My mother found my journal that had slowly become more of a book of shadows for me. She felt it was her job to keep me from ‘sinning’ in her house and threw everything that could even be remotely related out. No more scented or unscented candles, no incense, no personal journal. She combed through my sketchbooks and school notebooks removing anything she though was ‘devil worship’ For a few months this went so far as to ban both the Harry Potter books and the Percy Jackson books. I'd continue to read and learn in secret, this time extra careful to not be caught.

My first patron:

Late 9th grade I began going out with an older guy. My first real relationship. I honestly thought I loved him, and maybe I did but in the end he wasn’t healthy for me. I will not go into details of what all occurred however long story very short, I needed out he wouldn’t let me leave. I didn’t feel strong enough to leave, because if I did, who would love me?

During this time I would have vivid disturbing nightmares about him and things he had done. In several of these nightmares they’d be interrupted by a masculine force, though I was not able to place who or what it was. On occasion that feeling would return to me in the waking world as well. I decided to slowly brute force figuring out who or what the feeling was. So name by name I went. Starting with the Greeks, then Romans, then Norse. Eventually making it to the Goetics and finally to Glasya-Labolas to which I felt incredibly strong towards.

I do not know for certain why or how that had ended up but I became very grateful to him for his presence. One evening I finally had enough. We had been working on self sufficiency and getting past the need to be loved, and useful. That my worth was not tied to how useful I was to someone else. I believe he helped me realize I was allowed to say no and leave instead of saying no but staying because I didn’t want to make him mad.

Soon after leaving that situation I stopped feeling the presence altogether, I grew up and moved on.

Throughout high school I continued to try to find reading materials on demons however due to a hawkeyed mom I had to be very careful. I decided senior year that when I moved to college I wouldn’t need to hide my study so much and I’d finally be free to really learn. I was both right and wrong. University libraries gave me access to book loan systems that could get me new books on the topic but my dorm mate would intentionally play loud christian music when I would meditate. Win and lose some I guess.

By the end of that first year of college I had learned of a new name to call the faith I had been working through, Demonolatry. Under the new name I had so many more books to read and authors to look up. Though I began to feel dejected, I was angry with the early highschool version of myself for not maintaining the work I had been doing with Glasya-Labolas. I decided to reach out again, to no response. For a few months I gave up. Summer was back, It meant I was back in my parent’s house and their watchful eyes.

Returning to school I decided to try again. My new roommate was fine with the idea of paganism but was afraid of demonolatry. Which I believe is fair considering her catholic upbringing.

At some point in this time I began to reach out more broadly to anyone who was willing to work with me in order to help guide my studies. For a while I felt nothing, in fact for a whole year. By junior year of college I finally felt it, well smelled it. A sudden intense cinnamon scent. This meant absolutely nothing to me. Once Again as my high schooler self did before, brute force.

This eventually led me to King Paimon and a lot of things started to make sense. I am still working with King Paimon as of this time however I have reached out to others as in my personal beliefs working with a demon does not need to always be this major lifetime commitment of monogamy.

I’m happy to answer questions about my personal experience but because I am still figuring out my own beliefs I will warn you to take answers about faiths with a grain of salt.

I've been learning about forms of demonolatry for about 8 years though I’ve only really been practicing for about 1.5 years.

Your faith and practice are going to be different from other peoples. I think that is the most important thing to learn, no one needs to understand your faith but you and the beings you work with.

[nyhne]

Tag Game To Better Know You! Send this to people you’d like to know better!

Oops late to doing this but thanks for the tag, @puella-peanut !

What book are you currently reading? I’ve been taking a fiction break and reading The Sprawl, by Jason Diamond, which is about reconsidering the bad cultural rep of suburbs. And it’s pretty good! A good amount of research and depth without being too dense, but it’s also not a book that’s pandering to a shallow shelf grab (I will never forgive The Secret Life of Groceries for how bad it was).

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year? Oif dude I’m terrible at remembering stuff like that. Did Marry Me come out this year or last year? Because that I will gladly rewatch again and again, so sue me.

What do you usually wear? During the work day it’s old jeans and work-tattered shirts since I’m a landscaper (or in winter’s case, long Johns, wool socks, jeans, undershirt, thin hoodie, thick hoodie). Outside of work, in the summer it’s usually a tucked in t-shirt and high waisted jeans, and in the winter it’s high waisted jeans and a sweater. I live in Seattle so I don’t usually get to wear my “”nicer””” East Coast stuff because god forbid someone wears a pair of slacks casually in this goddang city. (Said with affection for Seattle, but not for its odd fashion limitations).

How tall are you? About 5’2”.

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event? Libra, and Keanu Reeves, maybe? Or maybe he’s just a Libra too. Idk, I truly barely keep track of celebrities unless I have to lol.

Do you go by your name or a nick-name? At my last job I went by a shortened name, partially just to try it out (it’s one of my short forms I go by at cafes or for fleeting intros as well), and partially because my boss barely attempted with my full name on day one. Don’t have a lot of fondness for my full name outside of the fact that it means a lot to my mom but it’s whatever. Most online spaces that are relatively separate from “real life” I still go by Roshon.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child? Hmm not sure I had any concrete ideas on what I wanted to be when I was a kid…fleeting daydreams of geologist, chef, non-specific scientist, civil servant? Museum work when I was in high school and college. And it’s not that I didn’t become any of those things, but I think they’ve all been incorporated into who I am today and I’m not sure I’d need to be any of those things professionally to feel fulfilled. Also I love what I do now, but I highly suspect I’ll be one of those people who live a lot of different lives…restaurant work, administration, landscaping….

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one? Engaged! We’ve been together for about five and a half years. (: does that make me sound old or what lol

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at? Being patient; it’s pretty easy for me to exercise patience and take a step back on stuff. I’m bad at admitting I don’t know things, especially things related to pop culture. There are some things (like knowing actors, for example) I’m very open to admitting, but other things like familiarity with famous movies or tv shows, I’m just bad at admitting I haven’t seen them?? It’s dum. Idk why I’m so self-conscious about it.

Dogs or cats? Both, and even though I live with a dog I adore, on a shallow level I probably still favor cats more? But our dog is very dum and cute.

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this year? Got back into my bullet journal this past year and was pretty pleased with my October theme. Maybe not The Favorite thing I’ve done this year but I’m old and poor with technology so this is as good as it gets. https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRguKuX8/

What’s something you would like to create content for? I still have PruAus fics I want to see through one day. Not necessarily holding myself to that promise. But I’d like to. Not sure if that actually answered the question.

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with? Making a mini crevice garden.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year? My previous job- really liked it when I started, and the first half year I was there, and then slogged through the winter months and thought it’d be better in summer when they get busier but it just felt worse. Not necessarily a purely them thing, I’m sure, but still.

What’s a hidden talent of yours? My German, maybe? That might be more of a ‘nobody expects the Asian kid to know any German’ kind of thing, moreso than a hidden talent. Also, half talent, since I’m still not fluent. Did decent when I was in Berlin in October, though!

Are you religious? Spiritual, maybe, religious, no. Still vaguely consider myself Unitarian, but even then it’s still more as a community/mindset thing rather than a religious structure thing.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment? A 7,5-10 gallon tank that’s in a more vertical format rather than horizontal…really itching to redo the scaping in the tank and get a few more fish. Still recovering from the holidays, though, haha. So I guess it all comes back to money, predictably.

[feministdragon]

What was somebody like you even doing at Google, honestly?

Have you ever heard of needing money to live and pay rent, Andy? [Laughs.] Have you heard of a society where access to resources is gated by your ability to do productive labor for one or another enterprise that pays you money?

I get that! But you are now such a vocal anti-Silicon-Valley, anti-surveillance-capitalism person that it’s hard to imagine—

I’m not anti-tech.

Yeah, I didn’t say that. But how did you end up at Google?

Well, I have a degree in rhetoric and English literature from Berkeley. I went to art school my whole life. I was not looking for a job in tech. I didn’t really care about tech at that time, but I was looking for a job because I graduated from Berkeley and I didn’t have any money. And I put my résumé on Monster.com—which, for Gen Z, it’s like old-school LinkedIn.

I was interviewing with some publishing houses, and then Google contacted me for a job as something called a … what was it, consumer operations associate?

Consumer operations associate?

Yeah. What is that? None of those words made sense. I was just like, that sounds like a business job.

So I set up a Gmail account to respond to the recruiter. And then I went through, I think, eight interviews and two weird sort of IQ tests and one writing test. It was a wild gauntlet.

What year was this?

I started in July of 2006. Ultimately what a “consumer operations associate” meant was a temp in customer support. But no one had told me that. And I was like, what is this place? Why is the juice free? The expensive juice is free. I’d never been in an environment like that. At that point, Google had hit an inflection point. They had a couple of thousand employees. And there was a conviction in the culture that they had finally found the recipe to be the ethical capitalists, ethical tech. There was a real … self-satisfaction is maybe an ungenerous way to put it, but it was a weird exuberance. I was just really interested in it.

And there were a lot of blank checks lying around Google at that time. They had this 20 percent time policy: “If you have a creative idea, bring it to us, we’ll support it”—all of this rhetoric that I didn’t know you shouldn’t take seriously. And so I did a lot of maneuvering. I figured out how to meet the people who seemed interesting. I got into the engineering group. I started working on standards, and I was just, in a sense, signing my name on these checks and trying to cash them. And more often than not, people were like, “Well, OK, she got in the room, so let’s just let her cook.” And I ended up learning.

What were you working on? I don’t actually know the last job you had at Google, but it was not in customer support.

My God, no. No. I founded a research group.

So it wasn’t a fantasy, the 20 percent thing. It sounds like you actually really lived that Google dream. You made those side hustles and explorations your whole job, eventually. This all sounds very pro-Google, pro-Silicon-Valley. It’s, like, the dream of every young person who wants a job at Google.

If I only fucked with my own success, I would be an SVP at Google right now with five houses.

I was working with some of the smartest people I’ve ever worked with. I shared an office with the coauthor of the C programming language! And people were really generous with their time and expertise. So all of that was great.

And I can hold that in a balance with the fact that ultimately the business model, intentionally or not, is deeply toxic. And we’ve seen the derivatives of that over the past 10 years play out over and over and over again.

Yeah. Not to make this sound like Dave Eggers’ The Circle or something, but at what point did this utopia start to sour for you? How did you make this shift to who you are now and what you’re doing now?

I cofounded an effort called Measurement Lab around that time, the world’s largest source of open data on internet performance. At the time it was a hypothesis project: Can we put some teeth on the net neutrality debate by creating a numerical benchmark for “neutrality” and begin to hold internet service providers to that standard? It was really where I cut a lot of my technical teeth, got deep into networking. We were able to show through this mass data collection, through years of work, that there were actual issues happening at interconnections.

So all of that was right around the time when machine learning was becoming a new hot thing.

There’s an inflection point in 2012 that I’m sure you’re familiar with: There’s this paper that got published, called the AlexNet Algorithm, that basically brought a bunch of ingredients together and ignited the current AI moment after a long winter. What it showed is that with massive amounts of data and powerful computational chips, you could make old algorithmic techniques—techniques that dated from the 1980s—do new and impressive things.

OK … I guess I maybe see where this is going.

I am hypersensitive to data. I’ve been in the measurement wars. So I’m like, “Wait, what is machine learning? Oh, so you’re taking trashy data that you claim represents human sentiments—or things that are much more difficult to measure accurately than the low-level network performance data that I was very familiar with—and you’re putting that into some statistical model, and then you’re calling that intelligence?”

I was like, “Wait, no, you can’t do that.” So that animated a lot of my concerns around AI.

And of course throughout this time I’m learning more and more about what the business model actually is. I’m situated in the technical infrastructure group, and what I began to realize is: That’s where the money is. I’m looking at the balance sheet, the Measurement Lab server infrastructure, more than 10 years ago now, cost $40 million a year just in uplink connectivity.

It gave me a lot of sensitivity to just the capital involved. I’m like, “Oh, this is not innovation. This is capital.”

$40 million is basically Signal’s entire annual budget right now.

It’s a little under that. But yeah, I think the capital intensiveness of tech and the consolidation of tech infrastructure was something I was sensitized to pretty early.

What was new to ignite this AI boom right then? It was the presence of massive amounts of data—training data and input data—and powerful computational chips, the more of them strung together, the better. Now, what are those? Those are exactly the affordances that have accrued to the early platform companies that have built out their social media networks, built out their data centers. With artificial intelligence, we’re basically relaundering a lot of this shit through broken models that are giving Google more and more authority to claim intelligence when what they’re actually doing is issuing derivatives of the shitty data they have. And what was AI used for? Why were they into it? Because it’s really good at tuning ad algorithms, at targeting ads. It’s not an accident that the three authors of this AlexNet paper were immediately hired by Google.

Through a number of paper cuts, I was becoming sensitized to the problems with surveillance, the problems with this mass-scale approach, the platform approach—where poison salts the earth for any other competitor—and the problem with that concentrated power.

Was there any single turning point for you?

No, there was no one moment. There’s a lot of sedimentary layers as I learn these things: That seems weird. That seems iffy. That doesn’t seem aboveboard.

By 2017 I’d already cofounded the AI Now Institute. I was pretty well known in the field and within the company as a vocal critic. My job was very cool. I could say whatever I wanted. I thought I had found the magical formula.

Then I realized, yeah, everyone loves it because you’re not actually in the room informing decisions. You’re just providing, well, in the most cynical sense, a pretext that Google can point to and say, “We listen to heterogeneous voices across the spectrum. We’re a very open company.”

But in 2017, I found out about the DOD contract to build AI-based drone targeting and surveillance for the US military, in the context of a war that had pioneered the signature strike.

What’s a signature strike?

A signature strike is effectively ad targeting but for death. So I don’t actually know who you are as a human being. All I know is that there’s a data profile that has been identified by my system that matches whatever the example data profile we could sort and compile, that we assume to be Taliban related or it’s terrorist related.

Right. Like, “We kill people based on metadata,” as former NSA and CIA director Michael Hayden said.

That’s it, exactly.

Google had vocally, many times in the past, disavowed doing military work. Because yoking the interests of a massive surveillance corporation to the world’s most lethal military—which is what the US military call themselves, not my term—is a bad idea. And the marriage between overclassification on the government side and corporate secrecy on the tech industry side would be a disaster for any accountability around the harms of these systems.

That was the point at which I was like, look, I can’t make my reputation and my money on offering an analysis of why this might be bad without actually pushing back using a little bit more muscle.

We’re talking about Project Maven now, the DOD contract that led to your organizing walkouts at Google.

I mean, it wasn’t just me. I was somebody who put my reputation on the line and did a lot of work for this, but it was thousands and thousands of people within Google. It was a sustained effort. It was many of the most senior AI researchers coming out and saying “fuck this.” One, it doesn’t work. Two, I don’t want to contribute to it. And three, this is a bad path to go down.

Because let’s be clear: It doesn’t work. Bloomberg’s reporting in Ukraine recently was pretty categorical on this. The people who picked up that contract, the Maven contracts, have built out the systems, and they’re buggy, they’re fallible, they’re overly complex.

What does it feel like to have been looking at that in 2017, and now not only is AI the buzzword of the moment but also we’ve seen evidence that the IDF is bombing Gaza based on the output of AI tools?

Well, I don’t feel like I was wrong! I mean, if being right were a strategy, we would’ve won a million times over.

I think one of the things we see in Gaza is the interlocking of mass surveillance and these targeting systems. The latter is reliant on the former.

In order to create data profiles of people, in order to even have the pretext of targeting them algorithmically, you first need data. And Gazans are some of the most surveilled people in the world. That then becomes the fodder for training these models—however that’s done—to determine that if a given data profile looks enough like the profile that’s been flagged as a terrorist profile, you should then bomb them.

It’s a tragic example of at least part of what we were warning about then."

you should really go and read the whole thing tho

[snow-system-wol]

It was nice, even if it was impossible in reality. (Something that could've been.)

Ao3

Home was just as S'ria remembered, perfectly unchanged.

It got cold out here sometimes, when the temperature dropped at night, but sitting around the fire was enough to help except for only the coldest times of the year. Warm food helped too. S'ria gratefully took a bowl of soup from his mother as she settled back down across from him. Her hair was a somewhat darker and more saturated color than his (and far curlier besides), but it always had this amber glow to it when the firelight caught it just right.

S'ria waited patiently for her to start eating, gently nudging G'raha to do the same. Normally, the Nunh would be served first, but they must've gotten here late after travel, after others had already eaten and presumably since gone to sleep. It was kind of his mother to stay up and cook for them.

It was halfway through the meal, once S'ria felt fully warmed through, that she got their attention.

"So, Ria, are you going to properly introduce me to this "Raha" of yours?"

Her voice held only a mix of fondness and amusement. S'ria relaxed. The tone, at least, was a good sign. G'raha looked rather the opposite of relaxed and S'ria put his hand over G'raha's where it rested on the ground. It's fine, he tried to convey.

"This is G'raha Tia, my… partner? Yes, that's the best word for us." S'ria realized they'd never had a recent conversation about labels, but – it seemed right. Lovers was not something that needed to be touched upon, and boyfriend just felt…too casual for what this was.

"A G Tribe boy, huh? I assume you two met in Eorzea, not somewhere farther off. What's the story there?"

"Ma, haven't I told you that in my letters?"

She frowned at him. "Yes, but you always leave out so many details." The smile popped back onto her face. "Besides, I want to hear it from G'raha."

G'raha shot S'ria a somewhat panicked look and he just shrugged helplessly. She could be persistent, G'raha may as well. S'ria held back a fond laugh – if she wasn't careful with the whole Allagan research part, she might get a bit more out of G'raha than she expected.

S'ria was anxious as well, but for different reasons than G'raha – they'd talked before this, agreeing to please not tell his mother how dangerous his life was, but it was hard to dance around without lying. She'd… worry so much, if she knew.

"Y-yes, ma'am." (S'ria wasn't sure if anyone had said "ma'am" to her in her entire life before this moment.) "Well, 'tis honestly a rather simple story. My topic of research as a scholar was always the ancient Allagan Empire, you see, and there was a perfect research site in Mor Dhona. Your son lived in the area at the time and was always picking up whatever jobs interested him. We met because he agreed to some material procurement and to helping us with, uh – he was a bit like a bodyguard?"

Well, it wasn't a lie, at least – and it was better than 'volunteered to clear out possibly the most lethal bit of Allagan architecture ever located.'

S'ria's mom gasped delightedly. "Oh, that's very romantic. If S'ria was protecting you, I can see why you fell for him." Her eyes narrowed. "You're able to take care of him too, right?"

G'raha briefly looked terrified. "Of- of course! Archery just wasn't the best thing to use for that situation – and I've since taken up various forms of magic, for both combat and healing."

Her face softened. "...Healing magic, that's good. I'm glad."

G'raha relaxed, apparently having passed whatever test that was.

"Was it love at first sight?"

G'raha seemed to have far less difficulty or hesitation answering that one. "Honestly? Yes."

"And Ria, how long did you keep him waiting again? Three years?"

S'ria's tail bristled. Gods, he couldn't even defend himself here. Technically it was less than one year because he was in suspended sleep. No, that wouldn't do – though there was at least an excuse he could give that was truthful.

"After his work was done at that research site, I… actually didn't see him again until recently." The sense of regret in S'ria's voice was not faked, even if his mother was somewhat in the dark about what caused it.

Her face fell and S'ria immediately wished he had just let her make fun of him and kept the subject light. "Oh, I'm sorry dear – that sounds like a sore subject." She walked around the firepit to collect their empty bowls and pat their clasped hands. "You two are together again now, that's the important part."

"Yes." S'ria and G'raha both spoke at the same time and she smiled at them.

"You both must be exhausted after traveling here. That tent on the end is vacant for you both." That familiar teasing look came into her eyes again. "Do try not to wake anyone up, yes?"

"Ma!?"

"I'm joking, Ria – G'raha seems far too worried about our opinions for that."

S'ria was certain that G'raha's face must be entirely red by now. S'ria had tried to warn him, his mother was very prone to teasing when it came to her son, even if it came from a place of deep love. She would definitely start breaking out embarrassing stories in the morning, S'ria just knew. Ah, but – G'raha would probably genuinely enjoy hearing about his life, wouldn't he? For some reason, S'ria felt as though he hadn't told G'raha nearly enough stories about himself.

S'ria cleared his throat and pulled G'raha to his feet. "Well, we will be going to lie down – to sleep, after traveling halfway across Gyr Abania today. Goodnight, Ma".

She turned to walk to her own tent with a good-natured laugh. "Goodnight Ria, Raha."

G'raha half-stifled a gasp and S'ria squeezed his hand. Once they were sitting down in the tent, S'ria turned and whispered to him.

"Are you all right? Is it okay that she called you that?"

"Y-yes, I. Yes. I am very all right."

"Good."

The tent was small, as most were, and the process of removing their travel-dirtied outerwear would probably have been easier outside. They managed. There wasn't exactly room to stretch out side-by-side – the whole tent was probably smaller in floor space than S'ria's bed back in Revenant's Toll – but it wouldn't be the first time they'd slept in very close quarters. S'ria lay down behind G'raha, wrapping himself around his back and pulling the blanket over them both. Even if G'raha had the occasional performative complaint about their height difference, he was the perfect size to hold like this and they both knew it. Warm, the scent of G'raha mingling with the scent of home, S'ria had no trouble falling asleep.

----------

S'ria's face was already wet with tears when he opened his eyes. It was still night, the faint aether glow around Mor Dhona the only source of light from his window. He didn't think he'd be able to fall back asleep any time soon, but it didn't feel bad. It felt… some sort of relief, to be honest, to be allowed that extra moment with her. The dream felt like a rare moment of kindness from the gods.

S'ria wasn't sure what he believed in, but a part of him would like to think that the conversation meant something, that his mother would've truly liked G'raha if she was still alive to meet him. It was nice to think about.

[jdgo51]

The Answer Is No (and That's Okay)

Today's inspiration comes from:

I Am Weak, I am Strong

by Jay Hewitt

Do I contradict myself?Very well then, I contradict myself. (I am large. I contain multitudes.) ~ Walt Whitman

I experienced a miracle of healing. God did a work of healing in my life that was both outward and inward. Obviously, God spared my life because He has a special purpose for me, right? I can relax now because my life has been restored, and I’ve got a good shot at celebrating my eightieth birthday, right? 

Wrong. 

A year after my miraculously successful surgery and my clean bill of health, I had a seizure. It seemed to come out of nowhere. I had been here before and was shocked to be back again. I went in for an MRI. I prayed, prayed, and prayed some more before the procedure, pleading with God to hear my doctor say, “Your scan looks clean. No sign of a tumor.” I prayed that this recent seizure resulted from the surgery, not because of a new tumor. I knew that a new tumor would only equal one thing — cancer. 

I went to my appointment full of anxiety. My doctor came in and pulled up the scan. “Your tumor has recurred.” What he was really saying in those words was simple. 

You have terminal brain cancer. 

It had been an unintentional setup. Initially my medical team had thought that because they removed my original tumor completely and in time, I was in the clear, with a clean bill of health. But now a new tumor had formed. It was clear from this fact that my brain was filled with cancer cells that weren’t detectable by the human eye during surgery or by an MRI scan after surgery. As they explained to me, the cancer cells scattered throughout my brain are in a sense turned off — until they aren’t. When they eventually turn on, which they will, they come together to form a new tumor. And within a few years, the chances were good that the cancer cells would overtake my brain and end my life. 

I was going to need a second brain surgery — a procedure that would be followed by radiation and chemotherapy. They explained very clearly that the radiation and chemotherapy would not destroy the cancer cells but would only stun them, hopefully keeping them at bay and slowing down the rate at which they would form new tumors. 

Natalie and I sat in the small office of my new neuro-oncologist, Dr. Nancy Bush. With no-holds-barred honesty and kindness in her voice, she told us, “This kind of cancer has no cure. It’s terminal.” I heard Natalie’s quiet tears and turned to her, placing my hand on her knee, trying to offer comfort I knew couldn’t be enough. 

Together we were about to face something we desperately wanted to avoid. 

Dr. Bush offered reassurance and said, “There is no cure for this kind of cancer — yet. My job is to keep you alive long enough for the medical community to find a cure.” Unfortunately, cancer researchers haven’t made any significant progress in this area for more than two decades. 

The clock was ticking. 

What! It made no sense to me. 

Why would God deliver me from a nearly inoperable tumor through a high-risk surgery with miraculous results, only to have the tumor recur and for me to receive an unfavorable prognosis that essentially amounted to a death sentence? 

At this point I began to realize I was a brain tumor survivor who was now battling a terminal brain cancer. I was in a fight I could not win. 

What would you do if you heard the words “you have cancer” along with the words “no cure” and “terminal”? I’ll tell you what I did. I went to Dunkin’. I wanted to drown my sorrows with a maple bar. I used the drive-through, parked in the parking lot, and then got down to business with God. 

I prayed, God, what are You doing? It wasn’t an angry prayer, like when my dad died. It was a confused prayer. It was very straightforward. I asked God, What are you doing? and then He answered. 

It was not a booming voice from Heaven. Instead it was just as Jesus promised. The Holy Spirit unmistakably communicated to me by reminding me of what Jesus had said before. My mind went to 2 Corinthians 12:6–10 (a passage I hadn’t yet memorized), and I felt a bond with the apostle Paul. In this passage, Paul was dealing with what he described as “a thorn in my flesh” — a mysterious statement that some scholars believe referred to a medical condition with no treatment.1 Paul had a thorn in his flesh, while I had a tumor in my brain. 

Paul had asked repeatedly for healing, as had I. The answer Paul received from Jesus was the same one I had received: No. But with compassion, Jesus essentially explained to Paul, 

My grace is sufficient, and My power is best displayed in weakness.

After hearing this, Paul concluded, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” The Holy Spirit ministered to my spirit, and I concluded the same thing: 

When I am weak, then I am strong.

I got a strong sense that God was going to use my weakness to teach me the true meaning of strength. And also that this next season of my life would allow me to become vulnerable with my wife and daughter and form a deep connection with them. In that moment, God granted me insight: cancer was not the undoing of the miracle, but rather the continuation of the work He had begun. 

When I am weak, then I am strong.

After I came out of surgery, God miraculously granted me a desire in my heart to connect deeply with my family. But what I didn’t know at the time was that I would need more than just a desire to connect. For deep relational connection to occur, I’d need to unlearn the patterns I had developed due to childhood trauma. In order to connect with Natalie and Hero as deeply as my heart now desired, I’d need to learn to be vulnerable and let my weakness show. It would be a long, hard road. I would never have chosen cancer as the pathway to connection, but as I sat with my maple bar and my God, I felt clarity descend on the confusion. God was not negating the earlier miracle and ignoring my prayers. To say yes to one of my prayers, He would need to say no to another prayer. Sometimes God often says no to a prayer in order to say yes to the true desires of our hearts. 

Deep connection is the desire of my heart that I had been praying for. I truly believe my diagnosis is a key part of my continuing emotional healing that is allowing me to forge deep connection. 

Let me be very clear. I do not want to have cancer. I desperately want to be healed from this vicious disease — both emotionally and physically. I am reminded of Jesus’ interaction with a man who was paralyzed (Matthew 9:1–8). Hoping for a miracle of physical healing, his friends had taken him to see Jesus teach but weren’t able to get into the building. So they climbed onto the roof, lifted their buddy up, and started tearing off the clay roof! Ignoring the complaints of the crowd below, they kept destroying the roof until they made a hole big enough for their friend to fit through. Then they lowered him down and dropped him right in front of Jesus. That’s one way to get God’s attention! 

Jesus stopped teaching, having recognized that the guy was paralyzed, and said to him, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” What! Jesus’ words must have made no sense to the disabled man. He had gone through so much to get to Jesus — the One who had healed so many others whom doctors couldn’t help. But instead of attending to his immediate and intense problem, Jesus addressed the man’s deeper, more consequential spiritual problem. 

After forgiving his sins, Jesus then healed the man’s legs and he was able to walk for the first time! 

Jesus is compassionate enough to heal completely — physically, emotionally, and spiritually. 

Perhaps Jesus is currently continuing to heal my emotions and attending to the deepest desire of my heart as I fight terminal cancer. Perhaps once the emotional healing is complete He will attend to my physical healing. I can’t pretend to know His will or the details of how He works. But I do know I have His attention. I know He cares about me and His will is good. Despite having a hard road to walk, God has given me enough understanding to have peace as I walk. After all, Jesus had to walk a hard road, but He was able to understand the glory awaiting Him on the other side of the cross. 

Same with Paul, who followed in His footsteps. I signed up to follow Jesus. So as I follow in His footsteps I am not surprised that my path is difficult. I’m not surprised and I’m secure knowing He is with me. Same for you. 

Life is hard, but following Jesus and allowing His Spirit to guide you will allow you to avoid being surprised by suffering and instead stand firm in the security of His presence. 

When you are able to acknowledge the nearness of Christ in difficulty, you will experience the hope that good things lie ahead. The apostle Peter says it best, 

Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when His glory is revealed. — 1 Peter 4:12–13

In 2 Corinthians 12, Paul didn’t explicitly say that the “thorn in my flesh” was a medical issue. Some scholars believe he was referring to an illness, while others believe he was referring to persecution. Either way, he was facing an unsolvable problem that was threatening to bring his ministry to a halt. The undisputed truth of the Scripture is that God is a deliverer and that we can count on him when there seems to be no way forward. I take comfort in this truth.

Excerpted with permission from I Am Weak, I Am Strong by Jay Hewitt, copyright Jay Hewitt.

[titanhub]

List of 31 Best Ways to Make Money Online From Home in 2023! 👇👇👇

With the world going digital, there’s currently around 700 million internet users today. That presents us with a lot of opportunity.

Students, housewives, or anybody who can spare a little bit of time from their daily routine can do these jobs and make extra money. These are some great side-hustles that will prove to be beneficial if you want to know how to make money online.

Here’s another fast way to earn $200 per day as a beginner (Full Video)

1. Freelancing

The world is changing folks! Keeping the same in mind, you need to accept that globally people are choosing to freelance over their traditional 9 to 5 jobs. Why? The answer is simple: You can do whatever you like, from wherever you want to, and at any time.

Globally, the freelance industry is worth $30 billion dollars. To give an example of the surging trend, in 2020, about 60% of Indian earners were making money via freelancing. And rest assured, this trend is growing rapidly each year, because people can earn around $25–$50 on an average via freelancing online. It’s the same for the US, UK, NZ, and Australia.

So, the next time you wonder how to earn money online, sign up on Freelancing websites like Fiverr, Upwork, and so on. You can become a writer, artist, and web-designer, basically anything you are good at.

2. Provide Consultancy Services

If you are good at something, never do it for free! Also, never teach someone your skill for free. Why not encash your skill? So, what I want to suggest is that if you are great in a particular field, then why not charge money to enlighten people with your knowledge. The best part is that you don’t need to invest anything in such businesses.

Besides, you can make at least $30 per hour for your advice and expertise. Note that you don’t need to be the God of your field, you just need to be better than your client in it. This is a great online earning idea as you can become a consultant of anything starting from marketing to legal advice.

3. YouTube Videos

It’s a high-tech world we are living in! In the current ear of 4G and the upcoming 5G, video content is rapidly gaining popularity. As per a research study by Oberlo, by 2023, around82% of all internet trafficworldwide will be from video content.

Now let us look at the current stats: YouTube is the biggest video content giant with88% of marketers using it as a video-sharing platform. That figure can’t be tossed away in a jiffy. YouTube content is consumed in every country and some people have left their 9 to 5 jobs to become a full-time YouTuber, with some earning thousands per month in passive income.

What people do is monetize their YouTube videos and earn money through ads and brand sponsorships. Videos that were published years ago will continue gaining viewers and earning money. So, now the answer to how to earn money from YouTube is known to you.

Here’s another fast way to earn $200 per day as a beginner (Full Video)

4. Earn Money from Facebook and Instagram

Did you know some people pay some Facebook or Instagram influencers as much as $10,000 to make a post for their business? Yes, it’s true! If you have a huge fan base on social media platforms, then you should recognize it as an asset. You can monetize your Facebook and Instagram page and earn money online.

Professionals like Social Media Optimizers work on optimizing their website, these people often ask Facebook influencers to share their content to gain more traffic. Since location is not a barrier to the internet, people from overseas will also view your content and help you make money.

You can also run ads on your Facebook page or content for even more online earning. Rich Instagram influencers must have had you wondering how to earn money from Instagram? Well, now you have the answer.

5. Transcribing

What if I told you that you can earn in dollars right from your home? It’s true and it’s not that difficult! You just need to listen to audio and convert it into text. This is called transcribing and its demand is pretty high right now. What you need for this is time and getting to know the best transcription services and just like that, you can make money online every hour. This is a great option for people from a medical and legal background.

Technavio suggests that medical transcription is forecasted to grow by a CAGR of 5% from 2020 to 2024. Check out the websites like Go Transcribe, Transcribe Me, Rev, Scribie, etc. and go become an online transcriber.

6. Buy & Sell Domains

If your website receives good traffic, then you can make online income by renting it out. Many people don’t receive the required number of visitors on their websites; however, they need website traffic to sell or promote their products.

Not everybody is interested in buying a website, but a lot of people want to rent it for a few days. Interesting, right? This is the digital world where you can rent out your websites too besides renting out your physical property like offices or houses. Moreover, people are making thousands of dollars in this business of flipping domains.

Here’s another fast way to earn $200 per day as a beginner (Full Video)

7. Become a Content Writer

If you have a knack for writing, then let me tell you that you can earn $25–$100 per article. Even if you don’t know good English still there is room to improve on the way. You would be simply required to research and write on a topic. Hence, this is one of the best answers to how to earn money from home with an internet connection.

Now, if there is something students are good at, it’s researching. This is one of the best ways to earn for students. Once, you get some experience in this field, you might start considering turning this into a full-time career.

8. Video Marketer

Before getting into the details, let’s do a fact check. Did you know that more than 500 million hours of video content is consumed on YouTube per day? To top it up around 45% of people watch at least 1 hour of Facebook videos per week. Shocking, right? Well, that is why the demand for video marketers is increasing by the day.

People connect easily with the brand through a video and hence, the craze. Every brand needs a video marketing strategy to ensure the best performance of their video content. You can enter this world where videos dominate and make your mark by making a good income. Video marketers earn in lakhs and there is an increased requirement for them.

9. Virtual Assistant

Virtual assistance can be provided in all kinds of fields. If you want to quit your 9 to 5 job, then this is the best way to earn money without losing your independence. Based on whichever field you are interested in, approach the companies working in those.

You can do this via social media platforms like Linkedin, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and even eMail. Pitch to them on how you can ease out their workload, add value to their company, and help in their business model.

The way to make money thanks to Google AdSense is very simple. If users click on the ads, they make money. So, you don’t need to actually make a sale, with one click you’ll start monetizing your piece. AdSense pays from $100 USD per month. The two things you need to make money with AdSense are great content and a lot of traffic.

In terms of content, there are two types of content. There is content that attracts new people to you. How to earn money online from google adsense. Earn money with website monetization from Google AdSense. Google AdSense provides a way for publishers to earn money from their online content. AdSense works by matching ads to your site based on your content and visitors. The ads are created and paid for.

Here’s another fast way to earn $200 per day as a beginner (Full Video)

10. Blogging

This one is a lot like content writing except that you will be writing for yourself and not someone else. Your blog could be your online website and keep in mind that it might take you some time to grow its audience. You can place several ads on your blog which will earn money via Google Adsense.

This could even become your passive income source. How? You need to write a blog only once, but it will continue making money even while you’re asleep. Some people earn passive income via their blogs that is enough to replace their full-time salaries, so what are you waiting for.

11. Affiliate Marketing

Affiliate Marketing involves signing up with eCommerce stores like Amazon, Flipkart, etc. and promote their products on your blog/ website. People who don’t own a website can also earn via this method. You just need to share the affiliate links of your favorite products.

As per SoftwareFindr, the annual expenditure on affiliate marketing is $12 billion. Every time someone purchases via these links, you earn a small commission. So, start promoting the affiliate links in social media groups, forums, and write reviews on Quora, LinkedIn, Instagram, Medium, etc.

12. Startup

An online business is probably the most sustainable way to make money online. It goes without say, you need to work pretty hard on your product so that customers would want to buy it.

The entire process of building a new startup business required a lot of steps and a little bit of investment as well. So, if you are a housewife who has great knitting skills, handicrafts skills, etc., then maybe you should start selling your products online.

COVID-19 has seen a huge surge in online eCommerce businesses which have been quite successful indeed. So, please don’t wait for the right time to come, do it now.

13. Digital eCommerce Store

If you think properly, then you would find that you have a lot of products in mind to sell online. You can also earn money by selling your old used items. Platforms like Etsy, Shopify, Woo-Commerce, etc. are great for such jobs.

For example, on Etsy, you can easily sell your artworks, prints, etc. Establishing a brand reputation might take a bit of time but you should never give up. The eCommerce sector is turning heads in the current era. Almost everybody is trying it out to make some extra money.

14. Crypto/Stock Market Trading

This option could require you to invest a bit of money. To get started as a stock trader, you would need a little bit of money. Then you can start earning money online by picking up the right stocks. Also, please don’t get your hopes too high because initially, you might have to lose money in this field.

So, start with less money and meanwhile, you should spend more time grasping the key points of stock trading. People who are already experts in this field will make a mark easily, but others might not be successful all the time.

Here’s another fast way to earn $200 per day as a beginner (Full Video)

15. Online Surveys

Wondering how you will earn money by surveys? Online Survey is probably one of the easiest ways to make money online. You just need to fill out some online survey forms in your free time. Surveys are required for market research conducted by a company.

Few minutes of form filling forms can make you some dollars. You could try out platforms like Toluna, LifePoints, InboxPounds, etc. Stick to companies that have a proven track record of paying for surveys because there are a lot of scams in this industry.

16. Editing

All content writing organizations need editors to make sure that the content they provide meets the quality standards they need. You can provide your services for editing articles, website content, blogs, eBooks, etc. The benefit of doing this job is that you can do it anytime and from anywhere. If you have a degree in Mass Communication, English, or something related, then the work might become easier for you. Besides, you can earn lakhs by doing this job.

17. Reselling

The market for reselling is vast. You can resell anything starting from clothes to electronics. This business will allow you to resell product items bought from manufacturers at a higher price, thereby making money.

This is a great option to earn money on the side since you need minimal to nil investment to get started with this business. You can further expand your reselling business into other beneficial niches as you get established. An example is the app Meesho that has currently provided work to several people including housewives.

18. Photograph Selling on Shutterstock

If you think you can take good shots with your creative touch, then this one is for you. Websites like Shutterstock, Adobe Stock, or Getty images pay people money for using their photographs.

You can experiment with different kinds of photography here. So, this is the best way to merge passion with a career. The stock websites allow photographers to upload their works and earn passive income. Keep in mind that photos with high demand and lower search results will make you more money.

19. Work-Out Lessons

You could become a fitness trainer online with zero or little investment. If you are a fitness freak/ enthusiast, then you can train people online from your home with no investment but a camera and a wifi connection. There is a large number of people who want to work-out via online lessons. So, don’t let your skillset go to waste and make good use of it.

20. Audiobook Narration

Do you often get complimented for your voice? You know what, if you have a clear and nice voice, then you can earn money online by doing voice-overs. Since audiobooks are pretty much on the trend right now, people want more and more books to be converted into audiobooks.

People have been leading busier lifestyles these days and carry their phones everywhere along with them. An audiobook narrator needs to read a book page by page in their very attractive voice. You can find such work on Audible, Tantor, acx, etc.

Here’s another fast way to earn $200 per day as a beginner (Full Video)

21. Translating

If you are someone who speaks a different language, then this gig is for you. Over the years, the demand for translated content has only increased. Content creators, brands, businesses want worldwide reach. For that, people all over the globe need to understand their message in the language they know.

Today, the translation industry has made its place all over the internet. It is embedded in every app, almost every website, youtube videos, and so on. Thus, you must have understood the need for translators, and hence, this is one of the top ways to earn money online.

22. Web Development

Web Development is a skill that is much in demand. You can learn it online from several sources available. As a starter, you can make around $500–10,000 for every website you design.

This is the best gig for students who already have the skill. It helps to make some extra pocket money. After a few clients, you might even want to change this part-time work into a full-time profession.

23. Social Media Marketing

Social Media Marketing is in demand right now. This role has been recognized as the top 100 careers by CNN judged by the scope of growth. Your responsibility would be to produce creative content that encourages audience interaction.

Currently, Facebook and Instagram are the key players in social media. So, there has been a rising demand for social media marketers who will be competent across these platforms.

Every brand needs social media marketers to manage their social media accounts, increase the overall brand reach, etc. All these practices should aim towards garnering more customers and traffic towards the website. You can learn this skill online and then provide your services to various companies and organizations.

24. Answer Queries

If you are good at studies and can solve students’ queries online, then this is your chance. There are hundreds of educational websites out there that hire people to solve educational queries of children. As the trend of online education is on the surge, the demand for tutors is also increasing simultaneously.

If you can’t spare time to teach students, then at least you can solve their doubts for some money. Every query you solve will earn you INR 10 to INR 50. Besides, you can do this job anytime and anywhere. So, zero time constraints is an added benefit.

25. Kindle Direct Publishing

Students are good at many things, one of those is researching and writing. So, you could publish your eBook and earn money online. You can curate your own eBook on Kindle.

The Amazon Kindle Store allows anybody to research and publish an eBook to make money online. Note that everybody has the Kindle app nowadays on their phones, laptops, etc. and so, the global exposure of your eBook shall be huge.

Amazon is the ultimate selling website. So, just list your eBook for a price and wait for the results to pop in. Make sure that you write something that adds value to people’s lives. Also, you need to have a nice cover design to attract customers. It is also important for your books to receive positive reviews.

The best part about this income source is that once you have invested your time into it, it will become a passive income for a long time now.

Here’s another fast way to earn $200 per day as a beginner (Full Video)

26. Podcasts

Podcasts are really trendy these days. What you need to create a good podcast are a laptop and a nice microphone. The best thing about podcasts is that you don’t need to run them daily. They don’t air live, you can always record multiples at a time and post them online anytime you want to.

There are several ways to monetize your podcasts via ads, sponsorships, and so on. Besides, you can record a podcast from anywhere in the world. This is an extremely simple yet profitable online money making idea.

27. Online Teaching/Courses

People are spending a lot of time on the internet these days. In this ample amount of time, they are learning new skills online as well. The education sector has been badly affected by the lockdown induced by COVID-19.

So, people have naturally adapted to online education methods to continue learning.

This is a safe and viable way to continue learning from anywhere and anytime. So, you can teach your skills and make money online out of it. Also, you can create a paid course as well.

Not only will help you with online earning now but also turn into a great passive income option years later. Where to do it: YouTube, Udemy, Chegg, TutorMe, and so on.

28. Proofreading

Content writing is not the only step involved in content development. It is a thorough process that is followed by editing and proofreading. Proofreading demand has surged due to the exponential rise in the demand for blogs. This is said to be one of the best online jobs for students to earn money.

Writers are busy people who don’t get the time to correct their articles for basic spelling mistakes and other errors. Your income here depends on the effort, accuracy, and time you provide. Nevertheless, it is a great way to make money online if you can spare some time.

29. Run Ads

You can provide your services for running ads for someone ads or run them yourself. This is an incredibly easy skill to learn. You can run ads on your blog, youtube content, etc. Moreover, this is a great passive income source and online money earning idea which is currently in the trend. Some people make up to INR 2.5 lakhs per month via ads only.

So, if you have a website already then what are you waiting for. Monetize it via ads now! If you don’t, then also you can curate and run ads for others.

Here’s another fast way to earn $200 per day as a beginner (Full Video)

30. Digital Marketing

Digital Marketing has a huge scope in the current market where all businesses are going digital. In today’s world, it is of utmost necessity that every brand has a digital presence. You can’t do that on your own, you need digital marketers who are experts at growing your brand presence and driving traffic to your website.

You can easily learn digital marketing online via several courses and then earn in lakhs per month. It would take some time to become an expert in this field but once you are there, you’ll be unstoppable.

31. Social Media Influencer

If you have a large following on Instagram and Facebook, then you can be called a social media influencer. You get this title because a lot of people are likely to be influenced by what you do and how you do it. So, if you tell on your social media handle that the XYZ brand is good, then people are likely to trust you.

You could become an Amazon influencer or get several clients and brand deals. This could be a good source of online money earning as you can also use your command to do affiliate marketing. With that being said, this was the answer to how to make earn money from Facebook.

Here’s another fast way to earn $200 per day as a beginner (Full Video)

Bottom Line

We have tried our best to compile the best online money earning ideas on this page to answer how to earn money online. Now, that you have gone through this article, we want to indulge you to act on the money-making ideas given above. A lot of people browse the web for online money-making ideas but very few of them take action. Moreover, please don’t fall victim to scams like any earn money app because these hardly make money.

Also, we have a small request to ask of you: Please share this article with your friends as well. Not everyone might share their financial problems out in the open but might need help. Let us know if we missed something.

[leviathans-watching]

taking the blame for barbatos, beel, satan

includes: barbatos, beel, satan x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: 1.1k | rated t | m.list | part 1

warnings: curse words, light angst, lying

a/n: @tehsammutna requested a part 2 to taking the blame woth these characters. i hope you enjoy!! my inbox is open to chat, leave feedback, and req so come say hello! also, my laptop is currently broken and my school computor has tumblr blocked so i have to copy/paste on my phone but i think i’m figuring out a sytem lol

please reblog!!

➳ barbatos can’t even think. thousands of years of perfection, all for him to screw everything up in the end. he can’t beleive his stupidity.

“barbatos?” he flinches when you touch his arm, and you pull your hand away apologetically. great. now he’s even making you feel bad. “is everything okay?”

“um.” he wets his lips nervously. it’s just you, you who he should be honest with. “you know the gala that’s coming up?”

“you mean the one next week? of course, that’s all anyone’s been talking about.”

he flinches again, and your brows furrow with concern. “i screwed up.”

“what are you talking about? surely it can’t be that bad,” you try, but he shakes his head.

“it is, mc. it is that bad. i forgot to get caterers and now it’s way too late to try and set anything up, because everyone’s booked out and it’s such a big job.”

“i’m sure we can try to find someone,” you say. “i’ll bet a smaller business wouldn’t mind the grind, especially since this is such a big event. we’ll work something out.”

“what happened?” diavolo’s voice startles the both of you, and barbatos feels the blood drain from his face. “why do you both seem so worried?”

barbatos goes to speak but you beat him to the punch. “barbatos-” you start, and he swallows nervously. “-assigned me to get caterers for the gala but i totally forgot. i am so sorry, we’ll figure it out, i promise.”

diavolo frowns slightly, looking between you and barbatos. “oh no. please try to get the situation sorted out. and mc, it’s a good thing this got caught now. a mistake like that surely would have hit the papers.”

“right,” you nod. “sorry.”

diavolo’s name gets called and he smiles at barbatos before walking off, disappearing once more. barbatos heaves a big sigh of relief, ready to thank you, but you’re already on your d.d.d. looking up catering companies.

➳ satan grimaces, looking at the mess in front of him. he’d only been intending to look at one of the records in lucifer’s collection, for research purposes, but it had been in his hands-off section, meaning it was booby-trapped.

probably for mammon, though lucifer’d be displeased to find anyone touching his things. and while satan shouldn’t care what lucifer thought, he’d been finding himself wanting to keep things civil between the two of them, if only for your sake.

thiss would surely set thigns back.

“what was that crash?” you ask, walking into the room. “oh my god, satan, what did you do?”

satan looks at you, a little defensive. “i only wanted to look at one of the records.”

“but why? and how did that lead to this?” you gesture at the mess in front of him, eyes wide.

“it’s rumored the album art includes a sign that’s part of an online mystery surrounding the artist,” satan explains, “and i think lucifer has everything booby-trapped in here to keep it safe.”

“okay,” you say with an exhale. “so what’s the plan, here? we can’t just leave it like this.”

“i don’t know,” satan says reluctantly. “i don’t want to touch anything in case it makes it worse or sets off any more of the traps. he’s got hexes and curses weaved in there that i only barely deflected.”

you mutter something under your breath that sounds like ‘stupid paranoid bastard’, making satan smile.

the moment is broken as satan hears someone coming through the door, but thankfully it’s only mammon.

“whoah,” he says, sticking his hands in his pockets. “the hell happened here?”

“it’s my fault,” you say. “i got mixed up in here and forgot that this is the off-limit section of the music hall. thankfully, satan saved me from the traps.”

“bro,” mammon says. “lucifer’ll be pissed. but thankfully you're okay. it’s a good thing satan was there, as those are some nasty curses. i wouldn’t even go near ‘em.”

satan only barely manages to nod. you’re taking the blame for this? why?

“well, lucifer should be more grateful i’m alive,” you sniff. “imagine if it had been his magic that finally did me in.”

“don’t even joke about that,” mammon wails, and satan knows he’s been properly distracted.

➳ beel holds the broken figurine, biting his lip. levi was going to be so mad.

“beel, what’ve you got there?” you ask, looking over at him. wordlessly, he holds up the pieces and your face falls.

“is that levi’s one-of-a-kind ruri-chan figurine he’s been looking for forever?” you ask, and he nods.

“i didn’t mean to,” he explains. “i sat down without looking and it broke.”

you click your tongue. “well, if he wouldn’t leave his stuff where people sit this wouldn’t have happened. levi’s not going to be happy.”

“i know,” beel says glumly. he hates getting into fights with his brothers. “i feel really bad about it. if only i had paid more attention…”

“do you think it’s fixable?” you ask, moving closer, but both of you know it’s not.

“no, i don’t think so. what should i do?” beel asks, feeling anxiety creep into his stomach, curdling the hunger.

“about what?” levi asks, breezing into the room. the both of you freeze. instantly, levi’s eyes move from your guilty faces to beel’s hands.

“what! is that my one-of-a-kind priceless collectible ruri-chan figurine?” levi asks, not waiting for an answer. “how could this even have happened?”

beel feels terrible, dread coursing through his body, before he can work up the nerve to explain himself, you speak.

“levi, i am so sorry! i found it and was coming to find you when i tripped and dropped it. i never meant to break it and feel terrible! what can i do to make it up to you?”

levi softens faced with your wide eyes, shoulders slumping. beel wonders if it’s truly okay for you to take the blame for the situation but figures it’s already been done so there’s no going back on it. you shoot him a reassuring look and beel decided to go along with it.

“there’s not anything you can really do,” levi says sadly, and beel winces. “but thank you for telling me.”

he carefully takes the peices from beel’s hands, morosely examining them. while he’s distracted, you slyly take beel’s hand. squeezing it. beel doesn’t know why you lied for him, but it was ultimately your choice to do, so he squeezes back, gratefully. he still feels bad, but at least levi’s not mad at him, nor does it seem he’s mad at you.

resolving to try to find a replacement ruri-chan figurine even though no doubt it’ll be really hard, beel decides to try yo put the situation behind him.

leviathans-watching’s work - please do not copy, reply, or claim as your own

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 1

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Words: ~2200 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to any kind of emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*. 

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

~~~~~~

You met Billy Russo at an industry conference two years ago. While you didn’t know much about military security at that time, your specialty was online security and both of you ended up attending a lot of the same events. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, magnetic and a total flirt, and it was obvious he was aware of his good looks and used it to his benefit. You didn’t sleep with him during the conference. Something told you his dance card was already full every night. So, instead, you exchanged contact information and left it at that.

 A year later you were hired as a consultant for one of Anvil’s direct competitors and moved to New York City. When Billy called you to meet for drinks, you knew exactly what he was up to. You were no fool. He wanted information on your employer and thought he could charm you into spilling secrets. You told him it wouldn’t work over a second drink, and he simply laughed.

 You didn’t fuck him until a month later. The official reason for the delay was conflicting schedules but mostly it was due to insecurity on your part. To the outside world you were attractive in the kind of way that snuck up on people. You weren’t the type to turn heads, like Billy was, and your fucked up childhood had ensured you didn’t let anyone in easily. It wasn’t until a pep talk from your best friend, Davina, about enjoying Billy Russo for what he was – a fun time and nothing more - did you finally decide to take the leap.

 Fucking Billy had been unlike anything you’d experienced before. You’d had sex before of course, but not the kind of sex that made you lose all of your inhibitions and scream and come for hours. Billy knew how to coax you out of your shell and demand things from him you’d never even knew you wanted. You fucked him in your apartment, his penthouse, the underground parking lot, in his car and that was all within the first week. He had opened up a whole new world for you and you were willing to try anything and do anything he wanted. After that first night together, all the walls you’d built around your heart collapsed. Your best friend warned you repeatedly that great sex made people confuse lust for love, that she was worried you were falling for Billy, but you told her you were an adult and could handle yourself.

 Of course that had been bullshit.

 It had been been almost a year now since you and Billy were sleeping together and you had no idea where you stood with him. You didn’t even know if he was fucking other women, though a part of you suspected he was. If he was with you two nights a week that left five other nights to be with someone else. It clawed at you, knowing you weren’t enough for him. It heightened all of your insecurities, made you believe that you were worthless and ugly just like your abusive father used to scream at you. Of course you’d never tell Billy that. The minute he suspected you were getting attached to him emotionally he’d bolt, he’d already warned you of that. So you kept your thoughts to yourself and let your pain eat away at your insides when he wasn’t with you.

 At least that had been the plan until you saw him on a date with Madani.

 You were at a restaurant with some of your coworkers, enjoying happy hour, when you got up to use the bathroom and spotted Billy sitting in the other corner of the room. The breath rushed out of your lungs, your knees felt weak. They were enraptured with each other, legs intertwined, heads close, a true couple. You knew who she was because he’d let it slip he’d been working with Homeland on something and, you being you, you’d looked her up. Her pictures didn’t do her justice, because she was stunning. And exactly the type of woman Billy would be proud to be seen with.

 After you and Billy started sleeping together, Billy rarely took you out. Sure you guys would go to some hole-in-the-wall places or fast food joints but never to fine restaurants, not like this one. You never complained because why waste time when you could be busy fucking his brains out? Except now that you saw him and Madani sitting only a few feet away from you, and he was proudly holding her hand and being openly affectionate, you realized it had all been by design. He never took you out because he was ashamed of you. If you had been prettier, thinner, sexier, taller – anything but what you already are – he’d want you as more than a fuck buddy. He’d want you as his girlfriend.

 It was a bitter pill to swallow but at least now you knew the truth and that meant you were back in control of your life.

 As much as it hurt, it felt good to know you were the ones making decisions about your future again and they didn’t revolve around Billy. No longer would you be obsessing over what he wanted, what he was doing, if he’d like a certain thing on you or not, if he was fucking someone else or not. You wouldn’t spend hours researching Billy like you did in the past and finding out things about him that he never knew you knew. No, now you were finally free.

 And it was time to move on.

 Tonight was the night of the fundraising gala. Your company had purchased a table and the CEO of your company had personally extended an invite for you to attend. Based on a conversation you had with Billy three weeks ago, you knew he would also be attending to represent Anvil. When you’d first broached the subject you’d hoped he’d asked you to attend as his date – but he hadn’t. At the time you’d reassured herself the reasons were practical. It would be weird for Billy to be sitting at a competitor’s table (if he went with you) and you would risk offending your boss if you sat at Billy’s. But now you knew the truth.

 So, tonight, you were dressed to the nines in a curve-hugging gold dress with a plunging neckline which emphasized all of your assets. Your heels, which cost more than the dress itself, were over five inches high and made you feel like an Amazonian goddess when you sauntered in them.

 When you walked into the ballroom with Davina in your arms that night, you felt confident in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

 The thing about you that a lot of people didn’t know was that you were fucking fantastic at owning a room – despite your insecurities. You may not be beautiful but you were charming. You were really great at getting strangers to open up, people were drawn to you. It was one of the reasons your CEO promoted you so quickly after a few months. Your job, initially at least, was meant to be a technical role but when you were invited to a party with potential clients you had schmoozed them so easily they had signed the contract within the week. And then you had impressed them with your actual technical skills which only cemented their positive impression of you.

 So, yeah, you were in your element and you were ready to charm.

 “What table are we?” Davina asked.

 “14,” you said. Of course your eyes were automatically drawn to Anvil’s table on the seating chart. 157. A safe distance from your table, which meant there was a good chance you two wouldn’t even be crossing paths in the grand ballroom. You didn’t know whether to be overjoyed or disappointed.

 A while later you were circulating around the north bar, chatting up with some potential clients that your boss had wanted you to pay particular attention to when you saw Dinah Madani. She was in one of those slinky, maroon satin dresses, her hair up, and you felt that surge of jealousy go through you again. She was probably here as Billy’s guest considering this wasn’t the kind of events Homeland agents typically attended.

 “Y/N!” You turned to find your boss waving you towards him.

 Glad for the distraction, you picked up two glasses of champagne from a nearby server and headed towards him, handing him his drink. Your boss was chatting to a group of people you vaguely recognized, but the smile on your face stiffened when you spotted Billy amongst them.

 Fuck. He looked good in a tux. His hair was slicked back, and you were struck with the sharp memory of fucking him in his car one night with your fingers roughly fisting his hair. God, you loved his hair, loved running your fingers through the silky strands.

 Billy’s eyebrow quirked up when he saw you and you wondered what he thought of you so dressed up. No. It didn’t matter what he thought of you. Fuck him, you reminded yourself.

 “Y/N is our new Executive Director,” your boss said, introducing you to the group. “Her division has shown a significant growth ever since she joined Valiant.”

 You smiled, shaking hands with everyone. When it was Billy’s turn, you reached out to clasp his hand, not betraying any emotion even though you felt an immediate charge upon touching him. He gave you an amused smile, like he was enjoying the charade.

 “Nice to meet you all,” you said. “And don’t listen to Roger. Valiant was doing fine on its own.”

 “But Y/N has definitely changed the way we do some of our regular operations. I didn’t realize how archaic this industry’s systems and processes were until she came along.”

 “Sounds like I may need to poach Y/N from Valiant,” Billy said with a smug smile, his eyes fixed on you.

 “Anvil couldn’t afford me,” you reciprocated with equal smugness.

 Roger laughed, patting your arm. “We’re not giving her up without a fight.”

 “Clearly,” Billy replied.

 The expression on Billy’s face was new to you, you had no idea what he was thinking but you also didn’t want to waste any more of your time obsessing over him.

 Roger leaned in closer, lowering his voice so others wouldn’t hear him. “Table 35. Those were the clients I told you about.” As you glanced over to the table he mentioned, your eyes met Billy’s. He was watching you intently, still with the unreadable mask on his face.

 Ignoring Billy, you flashed a confident smile up at Roger. “Don’t worry about it. It’s taken care of.”

 You turned back to the group, your gaze skipping past Billy’s. “It was a pleasure to meet you all. I hope you have a great evening.” Bidding everyone goodbye, you headed to Table 35.

 ***

An hour later you were on the terrace, enjoying the cold, crisp New York air that rattled your bone. You were exhausted. Networking took a lot out of you and now you just wanted to go home and soak in the tub. Davina, a natural extrovert, was still in the ballroom, flirting and socializing but you needed a few minutes of privacy so you had snuck outside to compose yourself.

 “Congratulations on the promotion.”

 Your jaw clenched as soon as you heard Billy’s voice from behind you. You turned around to look at him as he swaggered forward, closing the distance between the two of you.

 “You never told me,” he remarked.

 You shrugged your shoulders. “We didn’t tell each other a lot of things.”

 “I get the distinct feeling you’re pissed at me but I don’t know why. Care to fill me in?”

 “What reason would I have to be pissed at you?”

 “You tell me. I’ve called you-”

 “You’ve never called me,” you interjected.

 “Fine. Texted. Whatever.” Billy took a step closer, forcing you to look up at him. Even in your fucking stilettos, he towered over you. “You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks now. Why the ghosting?”

 “I just think it’s time I move on.”

 Oh, Billy didn’t like that. His eyes grew darker, so dark they were almost pitch-black. “Really? You’ve got the next one lined up already?”

 As much as you wanted to believe he was jealous, you knew that wasn’t the case. “We both know you don’t give a fuck about me so drop the fake jealousy bit.” You tried to walk past him but he grabbed your arm and pulled you close. You felt his angry breath skim over your skin as he glared down at you. “Let me go, Billy.”

 “Why?” he snarled. “So you can go fuck Roger?”

 “You really expect me to believe you’re jealous of me seeing someone else?” you snapped back. “Or is it because it’s Roger? He’s more successful than you, he’s your competitor, his company has been taking all the contracts you’ve been fighting for and now he’s got you beat in the one area you thought you excelled at. Fucking.” You angled forward on purpose, holding his gaze. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you go fuck Roger and leave me out of it?” You smiled up at him. “Or does Madani not let you stray?”

 Understanding dawned on Billy’s face. “So that’s what this is about.”

Part Two

A/N - This is my first reader insert fic. Hope you guys enjoyed it. If you’d like me to tag you, please leave a comment or DM me.  

If you created this GIF, please let me know so I can give proper credit :)

[alluringjae]

until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome​ (dm me if you want to be added) 

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

 To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

 Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

 Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

 (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

 Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

 A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down.  Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

 I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

 Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

[pridewon]

(don’t reblog!) (misc. headcanons) hirugami  (tw: mental health, burnout)

- sachirô’s dog is a german shepherd/collie mix. his name is koutarou (yes, like bokuto - thanks light novel i’ll never stop laughing at this), and while he is not very friendly to strangers, he can be very affectionate with the people he is used to - namely sachirô, his family, and his very close friends. - yes, sachirô has been rescuing/collecting animals since he was a child. his older sister got a little upset one day when she found an injured bat in her room (the bat had made a speedy recovery and tried to escape when sachirô wasn’t looking) (he is happy to report that the little bat has since safely been released into the wild). - you’d be best advised not to trust his amicable smile and relatively friendly demeanour. they are mostly facades he puts up to keep people at arm’s length. in reality, sachirô doesn’t have much affection for other people in general, isn’t very sociable, and prefers the company of a very select few friends. he’s one of those people who genuinely prefer animals to humans.  - sachirô and his siblings regulary go on hiking trips around nagano, spending a few nights at a local onsen and venturing all day long into nature before coming back at dawn to enjoy the baths. it’s a tradition between the three of them, that was born after sachirô became aware of his burnout and opened up to his family about it. they have kept it up ever since, well into adulthood. - sachirô makes very light-hearted jokes about his mental health and calls it a coping mechanism.  - knowing himself prone to burnouts, he is very careful with his work-life balance. he loves his job and is very passionate about what he does, but regularly sets himself reminders to take breaks and do other things. his biggest fear is to end up disliking his work by throwing too much of himself into it and running himself into the ground - again.   - his friends and family periodically get a text that reads ‘hey just a heads up, i’m taking a few days off starting tomorrow’, which they all know to understand as: he is turning off social media, his phone, everything, and probably just chilling at home or off on a hiking trip to recharge after a particularly busy time at work. they have learnt not to worry about it, but it took some time. 

(misc. headcanons) kita

- yes, his hair colour is natural. no, he doesn’t know why he went grey at such a young age. neither of his parents did, nor did his grandmother. it’s a complete mystery. his grandmother chose to see it as a sign of good fortune from the gods. - shinsuke attended agricultural college at kobe university, in kansai.  - i need to do more research on rice farming but bvjbhv shinsuke insists, every year, on planting and harvesting some of his crops by hand, to keep the old traditions alive. it’s also a way of involving the community: quite a few families always show up to help out and learn a few things about the art of rice farming in the process.  - he is a pretty well-known and respected figure in the area where he has settled.  - the only reason he has a tv at all in his house is so he can watch volleyball; especially his former teammates’ games. whenever he can afford the time on game night, however, he makes the trip to osamu’s shop to watch the game with him, and whoever else is able to join them.  - every elderly person in the small town/village where his farm is located has plans to marry him to their granddaughter. he puts on an amicable face when the conversation comes up, but internally, he is a little mortified. aran regularly makes fun of him whenever shinsuke tells him about his ordeal.  - vegetarian. - shinsuke has a few employees on the farm, but lives alone. he is a bit of a recluse, and is content to be on his own, with just the occasional guest; old friends looking to spend a few days in the countryside, the off-chance paramour... mostly, he prefers to keep to himself. he is however regularly visited by quite a few stray cats that he feeds. he has named them all.  - he has also noticed quite a few foxes in the area. - there is always a guest room available at kita’s house. his friends have learnt that they can show up pretty much unannounced, and be offered a place to stay without much questions asked. he only asks that they clean up after themselves and help out with menial tasks around the farm if they are staying a while.

[abbynx]

Being Sorlato’s child + Being babysat by La squadra

A/N: Soooo, this is a direct sequel from the one-shot “Encounter” if you haven’t read it yet, feel free to browse it here 

Genre: Fluff, platonic, wholesome headcanons

- After the encounter, the couple found themselves thinking about it all the time, how different they acted to a child at the face of danger, and how afraid they were and how quick they were to act upon instinct and save you. There was certainly something the couple felt in their chest they can’t fathom but somehow liked the pleasant feeling. 

- One time Sorbet was found lounging around the La Squadra headquarters with a pamphlet regarding parenting whilst waiting for the meeting. When asked why he was reading that he nonchalantly replies that the thing was lying around and decided to read it because, “Why not?” One knows not to question him any further, so they let him be. 

- Gelato was found longingly staring at parents with their kids on the playground whilst on a mission and again, no one dared to speak a word of it. He didn’t leave even if the mission was over, until Sorbet was called in and had to physically drag him away. 

- They both knew it was getting out of hand because all they can think of now was wanting to raise a child of their own but they knew their circumstance were the least ideal to put a child in. For crying out loud, they kill people for a living and they didn’t really want to subject a child into this mess of their’s. 

- “God, is this what baby fever feels like?” 

- The couple has discussed about this, over and over than they can recall. When Gelato would suddenly mention, “You know, if we were to have a son I think that you can teach him how to ride a bike. That’d be sweet to watch to be honest.” or Sorbet saying, “If we were to have a daughter, I get to threaten her boyfriend to bring her back home before dinner.” 

- Once again, they were out to go on their once a week date all to their selves and decided to go to the same restaurant they had to stop in to save the child. And on their way their, what are the odds, the aforementioned child coming up to them and greeting them. 

“Ciao signore Sorbet! Signore Gelato!” 

W-was this a sign??? 

 "Ahh, Y/N!" Gelato was practically enthusiastic, he can just pick you up, but of course, he has to bind himself down. 

 "Out in the middle of the night again, I see." Sorbet points out. 

 "Aheh, yes sir..." You sheepishly responded. "But I really have to do everything if I want to graduate elementary with high marks." 

 - After a brief chat, weather, school and whatnot, once again you went on with your merry little way. After that, it was back for longing and yearning for the couple. 

 - The rest of La Squadra noticed this, but didn't knew how to help; until Melone picked up on the signs the couple were exuding: Sorbet reading the parenting pamphlet, Gelato longingly gazing towards parents bonding with their children, the two of them talking away about 'If we were to have a child...'— why, Melone's diagnosis: Baby fever. 

 - Melone somehow came up with an elaborate scheme involving an orphanage, did a couple of research. Due to some... Fortunate moment, somehow, someway, the figure running the same orphanage you resided in has made quite the list of enemies all his years. 

 "Melone you know that you can just tell them it's okay for them to adopt the child, right???" Risotto looks up from the detailed, complex document sent in by Babyface's user. 

 - Yes, it was stupidly complicated and a lot of work compared to just simply signing papers and adopting the child. The paperwork would be, again, stupidly complicated, but at least it doesn't involve bloodshed. It's not like the couple shied away from shedding blood but that wasn't the point. 

 - Capo Risotto had to consider their circumstances to adopt a child. Like I said, the dilemma was killing them and simply can't act out of selfishness and adopt a child just because they wanted to, it wasn't the same as a adopting a pet.

 - Cue the four hour meeting with the couple, discussing about what they can do and what they cannot do. Risotto was most certainly happy for the two of them to be adopting a child of their own, taking care of them and along of those lines but again, the fact they are a part of a crime syndicate and there were a lot of things they discussed about. 

 - After that, everything was settled and got started with the process of adopting the child. They didn't have to chose, they already had their eyes set on a specific kid; Y/N L/N, age eleven, abandoned by their parents when they were born, who adores reading and loves (insert food) and— what? They've done their research!

 - The couple was just beyond elated!

 - Through the process of adopting you they learned you were six 

 - Now that fact was uncovered, they were now more concerned and pissed why the orphanage would neglect a first grader and let them return from school at eight in the evening. And the fact that they met you under the circumstance of danger, pretending to be the couple's kid in desperation. 

 - Needless to say, a lot of things are going to change in your life, especially at the aspect of your security. They are a part of those people you should fear at night, admittedly gelato has almost pulled a gun on you that fateful night out of sheer jealousy, and didn't even register the fact you were barely half Sorbet's height.

 - First and foremost, you won't be staying in school longer than six thirty, as the couple takes turn on picking you up. They understand and adore the fact you're a hardworking kid thriving to have a scholarship in college despite being a literal first grader, but being a little kid walking alone in the middle of an evening is frightfully concerning. And in those times wherein either sorbet or Gelato picks you up, they'd buy you treats you want but not enough to spoil your appetite for dinner. 

- You did not hesitate to address them the way you addressed them that one fateful night when they tucked you in your new room for the very first time.. Gelato cried after that and Sorbet had to hold him to his chest to clam him down. Ugh, you were so effortless at making the two of them so soft. 

 - They're underpaid, not broke, so the couple spoils you in an overwhelming rate, the entirety of La Squadra were beginning to get concerned. Proscuitto scolded the two that they might spoil you rotten, but they reassured them you weren't. 

 - Speaking of La Squadra, the couple considered them as their family. Sorbet and Gelato did not hesitate to introduce you to them not as La Squadra, but as your uncles.

 - All of them were touched that Sorbet and Gelato want them to be a part of their child's life, that one of them would often volunteer to watch over you if the two were away. The couple were not going to introduce you to them as assassins and took advantage of your gullible nature as a young child. they don't intend to hide it as a secret from you. Perhaps someday they'll tell you their line of career, but six was not the right age to do so. 

 - Which brings us to their circumstances, the fact that they're assassins and how it is not an ideal career for people who has an attachment outside of their jobs. They were extremely careful in terms of that, wanting to protect and prevent others from using you against the couple. Well, now there's now a fate worse than death if ever that happens. 

 - With new responsibilities, Risotto understood them and gave them less jobs in order to take care and watch over you. But there were times where the two were both absent, prompting one of La Squadra to babysit you.

- Melone, Formaggio and Proscuitto are top picks for babysitting duties! but, of course, there are disadvantages. Melone is... Melone. Formaggio can and will act as a kid rather than an adult. And Proscuitto, well, he can be a bit too domineering. So yes, they are A-tier babysitters, nonetheless. 

 - B-tier babysitters would be Illuso, Pesci, and Ghiaccio. Illuso can be a bit too dismissive, Pesci will be too anxious and overprotective-- like in an extreme rate, and Ghiaccio... Hide your copy of Merchant of Venice, and you'll live another day. 

 - S-tier would be Risotto, except the fact that he is always busy. He is good with kids and he can guarantee their safety, I mean, need I say more?

 - Under no circumstances, are they allowed to swear around you. The couple already had restricted their foul language around you, and they expect the others to do so as well. Ghiaccio is highkey sweating when you started saying bullshit whenever you're frustrated. He profusely begged you not to day that again in exchange for ice cream. 

“Bullshit!” Ghiaccio’s heart skipped a beat after hearing your small voice whisper-shout on the dinner table as you attempted to solve a rather difficult math problem. 

 - Your relationship with them was well. They were protective of you, love you and support you. They're very affectionate, but not in an overwhelming amount... Well, at least they try to hold back but all they want to do is to spend time with their baby and love them unconditionally, as they should. 

 - Padre Gelato is more of a fun dad, very playful and energetic. He likes lifting you up to his hip before gently nuzzling his nose against yours. Dad jokes subconsciously slips from his mouth, be careful. He does a lot of cool tricks with his butterfly knife, twirling the sharp blade around while you stare in awe, whilst Papa Sorbet was more concerned that he'll accidentally cut himself, or that you might try the trick unsupervised. Needless to say, Padre was responsible enough to keep his knife in his pocket at all times to prevent that. 

“When will you teach me how to do that, Papa?” 

“When your old enough, N/N.” 

 - Papa Sorbet is a bit more reserved, but certainly not distant. He will not hesitate to kill someone who tries to hurt you. So he's the perfect person to serve as your teacher, as he helps you with school work and help you learn other practical things: cooking, baking, doing laundry by hand (which product is more effective to get blood off clothes), self-defense, etc. 

“So if there’s a stranger following you, what do you do?”

“Cling to the nearest person I see and pretend that I know them?”

 - They both tuck you into bed after reading you a bed time story, though it only lasted until you were nine because you insisted you were already grown up (cue, Gelato hiding his face on Sorbet's chest because his baby is all grown up--), but some things don't change because by bed time, they just check up on you even if they won't tuck you in to sleep.

 - Extremely supportive and encouraging. Like, they're basically the gasoline you pour on fire to intensify the fire of your passion. Like, they'll cheer you on sport games and competitions, tries their best to attend recitals, etc, etc. Though sometimes one is missing due to missions, sometimes both, but in the end of the day, you were confident that they would have loved it. 

 - Unbeknownst to you, at the end of the competition, a certain figure will come behind you and lock you on a headlock before harshly rubbing their knuckle atop your head. Uncle Formaggio can be a mean sometimes. So yes, if ever the couple is absent from your competitions, one of your uncles would volunteer to go. 

“‘Sup, little sport?” 

“Uncle Formaggio, my hair--!”

 - The first time you celebrated your birthday with your new parents was your seventh. They wanted to throw a goshdarn ball, but you insisted to keep the party amongst yourself. Just you, your papa and padre, and your  seven weird uncles. You were already a big family, and you were happy with that.

[doublekrecs]

Going Live

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis: You're an intern for the FBI but double as a camgirl in your spare time. You thought you kept things pretty well under wraps but who knew one of your mentors watched you all along. 

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v action (remember to wrap it), face fucking, use of sex toys, tiny bit of degrading

a/n: writing this in the setting of season 10/11 because spencer looks so damn good and i wanted to include my girl tara

also part 2 of more than physics should be up later today! hope you enjoy -🧞‍♀️

You had been a paid intern for the FBI for about a year, paid being said lightly. But the job was definitely worth it. While being under the wing of the BAU you had not only learned so much about your hopefully future profession, but you had made a family with the team. Especially under the wing of Tara Lewis, she had been there for a little while but you looked up to her work and she was more than happy to offer advice and a good wine night.

The team knew you had a second job on the side but weren’t exactly sure what it was, just that you worked from home. They respected your personal life enough to stay out of it, however that didn’t stop Rossi from offering you a little extra because “that's what uncles are supposed to do”. You would always wave him off and say you could handle yourself, because you could. 

You thoroughly enjoyed working. The money and gifts were obviously a big reward but there was always something so exciting about being on camera. Maybe it was how risque it was, being exposed for thousands to see. Or the fact that many were pleasuring themselves to the sight of you.

It was Friday night and you were getting your setup ready. You already had your outfit and glam on. Someone had sent you a set from your wishlist, lilac lace hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all your assets and boosting your confidence. In your hair were the same color streaks you did with a tinting spray. You set the camera and laptop up in front of your bed. Silk sheets and plush pillows behind you where you could rest comfortably before your show started. 

Little did you know across town Spencer Reid was getting ready to tune in to said show. He was never one for tech, having Garcia still hand him paper files and would refuse to upgrade his phone. He had gotten a computer just so he could video chat with doctors quickly about new medicine for his mother. However he quickly found out there was so much more the internet had to offer.

_

He had stumbled across your show one lonely night. Spencer couldn’t see himself going out to find a one night stand so the pleasure of his hand it was. He was looking through videos when he saw the thumbnail with a girl wearing glasses similar to the ones you wear when you forget contacts. His curiosity got the best of him and if he was a cat he’d be one life down. He couldn’t believe the sight on the screen in his lap. 

There you were the bubbly intern, body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you from the pink wand you held over your clit. He was delightfully flustered and the moans spilling from the computer’s speakers weren’t doing much to help.

He was entranced by you writhing in pleasure but was knocked back into reality after hearing you giggle. God he loved when you made that noise in the office, usually after fake flirting with Hotch or hearing about JJ’s boys. But this situation was totally different and if he was honest with himself he was very into it. 

You reached over to grab a large pink dildo. Taking it in your mouth before swiping it through your folds. It easily slipped in and you started rapidly pumping it into you chasing your orgasm. 

Spencer was too enthralled to even think about touching himself. He was using the gift which was his eidetic memory to the best of his ability to make this something he’d never forget. 

You came with a loud moan, hips lifting and grinding against the toy to chase the friction. Quickly you turned off the wand and took the toy out. You sat up and looked into the camera before sucking it off. Spencer's eyes widened as he let out a groan shifting on his bed. 

“Alright guys that was fun for tonight,” you said as you sat criss cross on the bed. “I didn’t think I’d be able to get to five.”

FIVE?? He thought in his head. He felt like he was gonna explode just watching those last few minutes. How was he supposed to last watching you make yourself cum five times. 

“Thank you so much for all the tips and support! My links are all in the description and I’ll see you angels next Friday! Muahh” you signed off blowing the camera a kiss. 

Spencer knew it was wrong of him to view a coworker in such an exposed light but he couldn’t help himself. So he spent the night viewing some of your old videos which brought him to what he swears to be the best orgasm of his life. Of course he sent gracious tips and made sure to buy little items off the wishlist, mentally noting to return every Friday night. Even if it meant hiding in the bathroom from Morgan in their shared hotel room on cases. That was two months ago. 

_

Just as you finished your session the phone rang signaling a case. Quickly you got in the shower and put on comfy business clothes since you usually stayed with Garcia doing extra research and taking notes. You quickly grabbed your bag and keys, making your way straight to the office. 

In the elevator you heard someone calling to keep it open. Spencer made his way in, buttoning his cardigan and adjusting his bag, quickly saying thank you. You pressed the button to the floor as you felt a pair of eyes on you. Looking over Spencer was eyeing you with a confused look on his face. You were about to question him when he spoke up first. 

“I thought you had streaks in your hair”

“I did… Earlier tonight but they washed out.” He looked even more confused, then his brain put two and two together. He just realized what he had said. For a genius this wasn’t one of his brightest moments. 

You looked at him amused as a deep blush spread from his neck to the tips of his ears. There was only one way someone would know about your quick hair change: by watching your show. The door to the elevator opened and you walked out giggling as he started sputtering apologies behind you. You quickly cut him off. 

“Spence, it's alright. If you want we can talk about this later because right now you have a bad guy to catch. But may I suggest making your name something less obvious, not that I don’t love ‘magiclover187’.” He stood there mouth gaping as you patted his shoulder and walked up to the conference room to meet the rest of the team. 

_

The case was one of the easier ones. Very minimal killing and the team was back by Tuesday morning, ready for a week of paperwork. Spencer had been dancing around you the whole time, he could barely keep eye contact with you and would rush to leave the room if you walked in. If he was this flushed around you with clothes on you could just imagine how much of a mess he would be when he watched you perform. Which brought an idea to your head. 

Friday rolled around and you walked over to his desk where he was nose deep in one of his Russian books. You put your hand in it to bring it down. Once he noticed it was you he was about to start with another ramble of apologies when you stopped him.

“Alright I’m tired of the awkwardness and I want my friend back,” you said with a soft smile. “Why don’t you come over tonight and we can have that talk. I’ll even order a pizza and we can watch Doctor Who.”

“Y/n are you sure? I-I mean it is um uh Friday.. And ya know you usually film,” he said as he played with his tie. 

You giggled at how nervous he was. Poor little genius didn’t know he was the only one with tricks up their sleeve. 

“It’s fine I promise. Just a night with my favorite customer,” you said winking at him. He choked and looked around to see if anyone was looking at his outburst.

“I’m kidding.. Sort of,” you trailed off. “But I mean it about you coming over. I’m going home now but I expect you there in an hour with drinks.”

With that you turned around and walked off, adding a little extra sway to your hips. Obviously that did the trick as you heard a small groan behind you. Spencer dropped his head back as he started wracking his brain to figure out how to live through the night without making a bigger fool of himself or cuming in his pants. 

_

You know maybe you were evil, you thought to yourself as you put on the finishing touches to your outfit for the night. Once you got home you sped into the shower to freshen up for him to come over and get your setup ready. You were wearing a cream colored strappy bodysuit. Over it was a large cardigan, almost resembling the maroon one he owned, strange. To top it off you were wearing your glasses and your legs were adorned with your favorite thigh high socks. 

The three knocks on the door instantly made a smirk appear on your face. This might just be one of your best schemes yet. Looking through the peephole you saw Spencer gnawing on his bottom lip holding a few bottles of soda. Taking a deep breath you opened the door greeting him with all the casualty in the world. 

“Hey! I’m glad you came, come in.”

He followed you in and tried to keep his eyes above your neck, trying to act like he wasn’t getting completely hard by just your outfit.  You sat down on your couch and patted it for him to sit next to you. He took the seat and gulped not really sure what you had planned. 

“Um how long for the pizza to get here?” 

“The pizza’s not coming Spence,” you said shaking your head. “But you are.”

You leaned forward to place your hand on his on the couch. “I want you to fuck me on camera Spencer,” you said with sweet confidence, fluttering your lashes. His eyes kept flashing between your cleavage showing through the cardigan and your lips before finally landing on your eyes. He didn’t see a single hint of humor in them, nothing transparent but lust. 

He pulled his hand from under yours to place in your hair, pulling you into a heated kiss. You pushed back on his chest a bit to try and get some air. 

“Save that magic for the show,” you said as you pulled him up to lead to your bedroom. 

The camera was set at a little bit of a lower angle. The audience would just be able to see you and at most Spencer’s chest. You had made sure it was fine and even turned it on as a test so he could see what he looked like. After you got everything out of the way you hit the button to go live and instantly people started flooding in. If the bulge in his pants told you anything, it was that he was excited to be on the other side of the screen this time. 

“Hello my angels!” you said into the camera, Spencer was taken back at what was going on. After months of lusting over the young intern he was finally seeing the show in person. 

“Today I have a special guest with me. My very good friend, the Doctor,” you took his hand to pull him into frame. “He’s very excited to be here,” you said, hand moving down to palm him through his pants. 

His hand reached out and wrapped around your throat, making you look up at him. Huh. This was a new Spencer you wouldn’t mind seeing more often.

“Let's not play games princess. Or else the only thing making you cum tonight are your pathetic little fingers. Am I clear?”

You shivered at the intensity of his voice instantly trying to nod the best you could within his grip. He let go and you went back to task at hand, undoing his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. He was long and pink. Precum already spilling out of the pretty tip, you couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth, among other places. You wasted no time in licking a broad stripe along a vein under it. His hand went to grab a handful of your hair giving it a testing tug as a warning to stop teasing. 

Your hand went to grip what couldn’t fit in your mouth but you tried your best to take him all in. You could hear the pings of tips and comments being said. Spencer could too and leaned over slightly to read them. 

“Face fuck her,” he murmured. He pulled you off of his cock and looked down into your eyes, “Is that what you want princess? Hm.” His thumb went to clean up the spit dripping down your chin before rubbing your lips. “You want me to fuck your face?”, he said in a condescendingly sweet voice. 

“Yes Doctor please! Fuck my throat.” 

“Good girl.”

Both his hands made their place nested in your hair, guiding you to his cock. He wasted no time in being brutal. Tears were leaking down your cheeks as he kept on hitting the back of your throat. Spencer was enjoying himself to the fullest letting out curses and praises at how good your mouth felt. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer and you could feel it too as he started to throb in your mouth. He then pulled you off, a trail of spit connected from your lips and his cock. 

“Such a dirty whore for me. Show everyone how messy I make you,” he took your head and made you turn to look in the camera. Comments pinged talking about how pretty you looked with mascara running and smudged lipstick. 

“Thank them and ask if you deserve to cum on my cock,” Who knew Spencer had this in him. But you were loving every second of it and put on your best pair of puppy dog eyes to beg the camera for Spencer to split you in half. And you had no shame in doing so. 

“Please let the Doctor fuck me. I’ve been such a good girl for you guys,” you pleaded into the camera. The audience was pleased with your begging as they said you deserved it for being so good. 

Spencer took his time in unbuttoning the cardigan you had on, teasingly rubbing your arms as he slipped it off. His hands then went to the bodice of it, groping your breasts and teasing your nipples through the fabric. 

“Ah shit doctor, please fuck me already.”

Who was he to deny you of such a thing when you asked so nicely. He pushed you back down on the silk sheets. Pulling you by your thighs to the end of the bed where he moved the thong of the bodysuit to the side and slid his cock up your folds. Lubricating it in your juices before slipping right in. You both gasped at the intrusion, his hands grabbing your hips with a force sure to leave bruises. He used the leverage to set a brutal pace, ramming his cock into you. 

Your ears were ringing from the pleasure but you could hear the constant pings of your tip box and comment section flooding. 

“Shit baby you’re so tight. Perfect little pussy squeezing me so good.” You babled off thank yous and whimpers from being so close to your climax.

 You felt Spencer stop for a second and reach over to grab something. Then you felt it. Your wand set to the highest setting placed on your clit as he started to thrust into you again. Sounds of your moans and skin slapping together filled the room along with the buzzing of the vibrator. You were sure there was going to be a noise complaint notice on your door in the morning. 

You were so close to having the bubble in your stomach burst and so was he. 

“I'm gonna cum Doctor,” you practically yelled. “Please cum inside me!”

“Cmon princess. Let me feel you let go.”

With that the knot broke and you swore you died and went to heaven. Your walls squeezing Spencer led him to his end a little after you. Thrusts faltering and groaning at the feeling of pleasure washing over him. He turned off the wand and put it to the side before slipping out of you. 

Looking into the camera you gasped at your appearance. Hair disheveled and face messy from crying in pleasure multiple times that night. Your mixed release leaking down your thigh and onto the sheets. 

There were non stop pings of people calling Spencer a lucky bastard and asking for him to come back next Friday. Spencer nodded his head over to your bathroom to get you guys something to clean up with and let you do your closing. 

“Thanks for the love tonight angels,” you said with a smile on your face, entirely blissed out. “As always the links are in the description and I’ll see you guys next Friday. Maybe I’ll talk to the Doctor about future appearances. Bye!” 

With that you fell back on your bed and closed your eyes. Your body jolted at a sudden coldness between your thighs. 

“Right sorry,” Spencer whispered.

“So where did that come from?” you looked at him with an eyebrow raised. 

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he stated seriously. 

You giggled and took his hand, “Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Of course. Now why don’t you shower while I get us a pizza. For real this time.”

“Or we can shower together then call the pizza.”

He contemplated it before smiling at you, “You always have the best ideas.” 

“Don’t I know it.. Doctor.”

[the-modernmary]

you’ll always know me || aaron hotchner x reader

Summary: "I would have stayed... If you asked me to.

After your high school graduation, you left without saying goodbye to Aaron Hotchner, your best friend, and nobody had heard from you since. Years later, you're back in DC, and catching up with Aaron brings more than you could have possibly hoped for.

Warnings: mentions of weed

A/N: I really wanted some soft Hotch content in my life after all the angst in my best habit, and this is about as soft as I can get. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "dorothea". Honestly, I was listening to evermore, blacked out for about three hours, and this is what came from that. There is no other explanation for this. It's written differently than my usual style, but I hope y'all like it still!

read on ao3 || masterlist

~~~~~~~

“What’s got you in such a rush?”

  Rossi eyes Aaron carefully as the latter circles around his office, double and triple-checking that he didn’t forget anything. The last thing he wants is to have to come back to the office and cut his day short.

  Aaron shoves a few case files in his briefcase. “An old friend from high school is in town and I’m meeting up with her.”

  Rossi perks up at the word ‘her’ and he leans against the door frame. Aaron notices this, too, because he shakes his head quickly. “It’s not like that. We both got sent to boarding school for being problem children and we became quick friends. I haven’t talked to her since graduation. She just packed up her stuff and left the very next day.”

“You sound bitter,” Rossi points out.

  “Not at all,” he lies, trying to forget the hurt of running to your dorm for your weekly breakfast together, only to be met with an empty room and a singular polaroid. “I knew she hated it there and her goal was to travel and see as many places as she could. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s back stateside at all. Last I heard, she was doing some art apprenticeship in Italy, but that was years ago.”

  “You sound like you have a long evening ahead of you, so I’ll get out of your hair. And have some fun tonight, Aaron. You deserve it,” Rossi adds on as an afterthought. 

  The corners of Aaron's mouth lift slightly. “I will. Try not to let the building burn down while I’m gone. Reid is back on his physics magic kick, and I think I heard something about a lighter.”

  Rossi gives Aaron a two-finger, half-hearted salute in acknowledgment, which is all it takes for Aaron to shut his office door and head towards the elevator. Knowing that you’re just outside, he has to make a conscious effort to slow his pace from an excited jog to just an anxious speed walk. The elevator ride is slow, seemingly stopping at every single floor on the way down, which gives his mind ample time to wander and think back to graduation day.

  “There you are!” Aaron shouts from across the football field as he runs up to you, shoving through bustling groups of families trying to take pictures. He has so many stoles and cords and leis around his neck that you can barely see the suit he’s wearing underneath his gown. It’s a stark contrast to you, with only a singular chord for academic achievement, although a 3.2 wasn’t much of an achievement in the eyes of most people at boarding school.

  “Here I am!” you laugh, throwing your arms around him in a hug and breathing in the smell of his cologne.

  “Where’re your parents? Didn’t they come?”

  “Of course they didn’t. They’re not ones for celebrating something as trivial as high school graduation, not when it’s just expected of me.” You roll your eyes. “What about you? I thought you and Haley were going to do the whole ‘meet the family’ thing today?”

  Aaron is oblivious to the bitterness in your voice, although that’s nothing new. “We are, but I just wanted to give these to you.” It’s then that you notice the bouquet of flowers in his hand, although it’s now being pressed into your arms. “As a congrats. And a thank you for being there for me this whole time. You’re my best friend.”

  You try to ignore the ache in your chest at his words. “Thank you, Aaron. I… I didn’t get you anything, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he waves it off. “If you want to get me something, breakfast is your treat tomorrow.”

  “Okay, deal,” you agree, the smile coming back to your face. Selfishly, you don’t want him to go back to Haley or his family just yet. You want him to stay there with you so you don’t feel so lonely in the crowd of happy graduates. “God, I can’t believe you’re staying in D.C. for college. We always talked about getting out, seeing the world and never coming back.”

  Aaron shrugs, and you watch as he brushes away a piece of his hair that falls into his face. “I’m hoping that going to GW for undergrad will make it easier to get into law school there.”

  “And Haley Brooks is still here for another year,” you point out, half accusatory.

  “Yeah, that, too.” Aaron chuckles uncomfortably before quickly switching the conversation. “What about you? Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  “There’s an art school in Glasgow I’m thinking of going to. But, you know… George Washington also has an art program. It’s pretty nice, too. I’m still deciding.” You trail off, looking straight into Aaron’s eyes, giving him every chance in the world to make the decision for you.

  Aaron hesitates, fighting an internal battle. “Go to Glasgow!” he says, fake enthusiasm in his voice, but your disappointment blocks out anything but his actual words. “Then I’ll have an excuse to visit Scotland.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was leaning towards, too,” you lie. “Aaron, I—”

  You’re cut off by a voice calling his name. You both turn around to see Haley Brooks waving him over, her other hand holding 7-year-old Sean’s hand. She looks like spring personified, her blonde hair in bouncy curls and her pink sundress swishing around her long, slender legs. Her smile is so big that it could have parted storm clouds, and you want nothing more than to hate her with every single fiber of your being.

  But then you see Aaron, returning her megawatt smile with his own, one you rarely ever saw, and how can you hate somebody who makes him so happy?

  “I have to go, I’m sorry,” he says, although there’s not even a hint of regret in his voice. “But I’ll see you for one last Sunday breakfast tomorrow?”

  “I’ll see you then,” you lied.

  How Aaron could have missed the signs of your unhappiness, he’ll never know. At that time, all he knew was that you left without ever saying goodbye, leaving behind only a polaroid of the two of you from your weekend trip to Virginia Beach, both of you drunk and laughing with your arms wrapped around each other. He still has it, buried in his nightstand somewhere, but he hasn’t had the courage to look at it for a few years now.

  As Aaron steps out of the FBI building, he recognizes you instantly, even though it’s only the back of your head, and it causes his breath to catch in his throat. He calls your name and watches as you turn around, your hair whipping around you, and the fact that you still have that same mischievous glint in your eyes is enough to make him feel like he’s sixteen again and nervously skipping class with you holding his hand and pulling him towards the school gates.

  “Aaron!” You jog up to him and throw your arms around him in a hug, which he happily reciprocates. You press a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away, and Aaron’s entire face burns.

  You keep your hands on his biceps, holding him at arm’s length, as you study him. He looks almost exactly the same as he did all those years ago, with soft hair and the slightest bit of stubble, but he looks less carefree. He seems more mature, like life had aged him 100 years. Still, as cute as high school Aaron was, it had nothing on how good he looks now. “Look at you, Mr. FBI, all suit and corporate-looking! I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Yeah, I guess I’ve changed quite a bit,” he admits, and the sight of his dimples makes you want to melt right there into the sidewalk. “It’s really good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you barely thought about me,” you joke, but hurt flashes through your eyes.

  Aaron wants to argue, to tell you that he thinks about you all the time, but decides against it. He doesn’t want to spend the precious few hours he has with you bringing up old issues. “Are you hungry? Because there’s this diner a few blocks down with giant milkshakes.”

  “Why are we still standing here, then? All you had to say was milkshakes, they’re my favorite.”

  “I know. I remember,” he says, and that all-too-familiar pang in your heart comes back like it had never left. “Come on, we can walk and cut through a park.”

  The two of you start your walk in comfortable silence, listening to the bustling city around you. Every once in a while, your hands would bump into his, and you were doing everything you could to ignore it.

  “So did you ever go to that art school?” he asks suddenly, looking over at you.

  You nod, a soft smile forming on your face. “I did. You were right, I loved Scotland.”

  “Where did you go after that? Nobody heard from you.”

  Your eyes sparkle as memories of your life the past few years flash through your mind. “Everywhere. Literally. I took a bunch of odd jobs and spent my time traveling,” you admitted. “I taught English in Vietnam for a year, worked on a cruise ship that went around South America, was an au pair for a French ambassador, went on research expeditions… Even dated a pilot for all of six months. Anything I could do that would let me see the world.” You laugh to yourself, shaking your head fondly. “I really put that private boarding school tuition to good use, huh? My parents were pissed.”

  “It sounds like you were living the life you dreamed of,” Aaron says softly, looking down at you.

  “It was,” you agree, your voice a little sad.

  “So then why are you back here in DC?”

  You shrug, your hands clasped behind your back, and you step down on a particularly crunchy leaf. “I’m just passing through. I’ve been going around the US and looking for a place to settle down. Finally. Figured I might as well put that art degree to good use. Maybe I’ll open a gallery or something.”

  Aaron nods slowly as the chill of autumn runs through his bones. It’s nice, though, in a weird way. He’s always preferred the fall over spring. “Where have you looked so far?”

  “Lots of places. San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Atlanta, San Antonio, Miami… I’m heading up to New York next. Nothing’s felt right so far. But enough about me, how are you? I heard you married Haley Brooks.”

  That same bitterness you felt in high school when you talked about Haley comes back with a vengeance. It’s unfair, and you know that. How was Aaron supposed to know that you were practically in love with him in high school if you never told him? Even now, you’re sure that he hasn’t put together the pieces.

  You watch as his gaze falls slightly. “I did. She died a few years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” you whisper, and you reach out to give his hand a small squeeze.

  “We got divorced a little while before it happened,” he explains, unsure why it’s so important to him that you know that. “I blamed myself for it for a long time. But I’ve, uh… I’ve made peace with it now.”

  You give him a comforting smile, fully aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand. “Aaron Hotchner, making peace with something in his life? I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Aaron chuckles and bumps his shoulder to yours. “I’ve been known to do it a few times. But only a few. Haley and I have a son, though. His name is Jack. He’s 8 now.”

  You shake your head in disbelief, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “And you’re a father? Wow, you really have changed.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” he asks, and you shake your head wordlessly.

  “I like every version of Aaron Hotchner,” you promise. “Besides, change is a good thing. Especially since this city hasn’t changed a bit.”

  Aaron looks around, eyebrows furrowed, like he’s seeing DC for the very first time. “It’s actually changed quite a bit. But it’s subtle. Only people who have been here as long as I have would even notice it, probably.”

  The words cut through you both as a painful reminder of your abrupt departure from DC, and the silence settles over the two of you like a thick fog. This conversation was going to have to happen no matter what, you knew that going into this meeting with Aaron, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

  “I would have stayed,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “If you asked me to.”

  Aaron shakes his head as his Adam’s apple bobs. “I thought about it. But I couldn’t do that to you. I knew you wanted to see the world, and you said it yourself. This city had nothing left to offer you.”

  You pause, rubbing your thumb over your fingertips with your freehand. “It had you,” you reply, and Aaron feels like he was just stabbed in the heart. “That would have been enough.” Seeing Aaron’s dejected face, you quickly keep talking. “But I get it, don’t worry. You were head over heels for Haley Brooks. Everybody knew you two were meant to be together.””

  “What does that have to do with you leaving?” he asks, more accusatory than he intended.

  “Everything.”

  Aaron breathes out your name, unsure of what to say until he settles on: “I’m sorry.”

  You wave him off, forcing a laugh. “Don’t be. I was 17 years old with a crush. We do stupid things, like want to stay at home for a boy. I’m glad I left. Besides, Haley Brooks was clearly the love of your life, and far be it from me to try and break up the golden couple.”

  The two of you stop in front of the diner and you drop Aaron’s hand, much to his disappointment, although you’re still close enough to him to see your reflection in his brown eyes. “I didn’t know you felt like that about me,” he says.

  “Which is surprising, because everybody else definitely knew. But you’ve always been a little clueless when it comes to stuff like that,” you tease, flashing him a toothy smile. “But it’s in the past. So come on, I want to hear about this FBI stuff and drink a milkshake so big it makes my stomach hurt.”

  Twenty minutes later, you and Aaron find yourselves smushed together in a corner booth covered in cheap vinyl, splitting a chocolate milkshake and laughing as you stroll down memory lane. 

  “You know, I ran into Stephen yesterday! A little coffee shop not too far from here,” you tell Aaron.

  Aaron almost drops the fry he was about to eat. “Do you mean Stoner Stephen? What is he doing back here?”

  You take a sip of the milkshake, and Aaron’s gaze is intense as you wrap your lips around the straw. When you pull back, he’s still staring at the soft pink your lipstick leaves behind. “Apparently, he’s lived here for years. Also, did you know he’s crazy smart? Like… graduated 4th in our class, went to Brown undergrad and Columbia graduate, smart.”

  Aaron’s eyes go wide in disbelief. “And this is the same guy who, completely sober, tried putting his mattress in the pool so that he didn’t have to sleep in his own dorm?”

  “The very same one. He’s like a lobbyist now or something for some activist group.”

  “Wow, I did not expect that. Do you remember when he got so high that he thought his joint was going to catch the dorms on fire?” Aaron asks, the words barely discernible through his laughter. “So he warned campus police that the whole school was going to burn down.”

  “Yes!” you giggle, your head thrown back in laughter. “They thought it was an arson threat and they had to evacuate the whole school. I was taking an English final during that.”

  Aaron’s shoulder pressing against yours makes a shiver run down your spine. You idly wonder how much closer he can get to you if he really tried.

  As if reading your mind, Aaron turns towards you a little more so that your knees are touching and you can feel his breath on the side of your neck. “We went to the beach that weekend,” he says quietly, unwilling to break eye contact with you. “Drank cheap beer. You got stung by a jellyfish. I had to carry you back to the car.”

  No, no. You were not about to fall for Aaron Hotchner’s charm again that easily. Not again. It took you too long to get over him the first time. Still, you were leaning closer to Aaron, and Aaron was leaning in towards you, and your noses brushed as you tilt your head to the side ever so slightly and—

  And his phone rings. Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips one last time before pulling away, giving you an apologetic look.

  “Hotchner,” he answers, and you pull your coat tighter around yourself as realization sinks into you. You feel like you’re 17 again, desperately waiting for Aaron to ask you to prom, only to hide in your dorm for days on end when he asked Haley Brooks.

  When Aaron hangs up, he immediately reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet, setting enough cash on the table to cover the tab and tip. “That was work. We have to fly out to Arizona. I’m sorry.”

  You nod understandingly. “Gotta catch the bad guys. When do you leave?”

  It’s silent for a few torturous moments before he finally answers. “An hour, at most. We brief at the office and then get on the plane.”

  “Wow,” you breathe. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you live out of your suitcase. Can I walk back with you, at least?”

  Aaron smiles, a small smile that makes you wonder how often he actually smiles now. It used to be a lot, but from what he’s told you, it seems like he’s had a rough go of it the last couple of years, and has a lot less to smile about. It makes you sad because when you were traveling the world, his smile was the one thing you missed the most.

  “I’d really like that.”

  The two of you make small talk on the way back, swapping stories about Jack and your various adventures around the globe. The autumn air is crisp with leaves falling all around you. At one point, there was a big gust of wind, and leaves and pine needles got blown onto the two of you, and you took your sweet time running your fingers through his hair, bushing it all off him. 

  When you get to the entrance of the FBI building, neither one of you says anything. You just stand there, both unwilling to say goodbye. You turn to face each other, just as close as you were in the diner booth.

  “Oh, you have a…” Aaron delicately reaches his hand to your hair. His fingers in your hair make your stomach do flips, and you’re almost positive he can hear your racing heartbeat. His eyes stay trained on yours the entire time, never blinking. “Pine needle,” he whispers, holding the offending object between his fingers.

  “Thanks,” you breathe, and you’re not sure if it’s the autumn chill or his hand reaching to cup your cheek that sends goosebumps throughout your body.

  As if he were magnetic, you rise onto your toes, bringing yourself closer to him, and you press your lips against his. Aaron deepens the kiss and runs his thumb across your cheekbone. His other hand wraps itself around your waist. The kiss is slow and sensual and better than anything you could have dreamed of — and you dream of Aaron kissing you more often than you’d like to admit.

  All too soon, the two of you pull away from each other, both wearing matching smiles.

  “I should probably… get in there… before my team sends out a search party,” Aaron says reluctantly, pointing towards the entrance. 

  You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Go save lives. I’ll probably be around for a few more days before heading up to New York. If you’re back by then.”

  Aaron purses his lips, deep in thought. “You’re definitely settling down somewhere? Done with seeing the world?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Have you… Do you think…” Aaron takes a grounding breath, trying to gather the words he was too afraid to ask back at graduation. “Have you ever considered settling down here? There’s a pretty big art community here.”

  You shrug, ignoring excitement building in your chest. “I think my work is a little too experimental for the people of the capitol.”

  “You’d be surprised,” he chuckles.

  You bring your lower lip between your teeth, chewing nervously at it. “I don’t know… I left for a reason. I just don’t know what DC has to offer me anymore.”

  Aaron spreads his arms out at his side, palms facing you in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. “There’s me,” he offers, and, when your eyes go wide, he adds, “And Stoner Stephen, if I’m not enough.”

  A laugh bursts out of you uncontrollably, which seems to put both you and Aaron at ease. “That makes it a very tempting offer,” you tease.

  “And I have a coworker who flips houses. He’ll be able to tell you where to get the best deal on an apartment,” Aaron presses as if you need any more convincing. As if your mind isn’t already made up.

  “First, I need to know that there’s more than one good place to get milkshakes,” you point out, shoving your hands in your coat pockets. “You’ll have to show me around when you get back.”

  Aaron’s lips quirk up in a hopeful smile. “It’s a date.”

  He makes his way towards the entrance of the Hoover Building, but you call out his name, stopping him once more. “We’ll also need a new Sunday breakfast place. Since our old one is closed down.”

  Now, his smile is one of pure joy, and his eyes are sparkling in a way you haven’t seen in years. “I know just the place. As long as you don’t up and leave without telling me again.”

  “Never again,” you promise, and for once, the idea of staying doesn’t terrify you.

  “Then we’ll get breakfast together as soon as I get back.”

  You smile at him, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours. “I’ll see you then.”