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#greetings humans. there were like 2 of you today. and more yesterday.
altruistic-meme · 1 year
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man i am getting followed the heck out of recently. hello. there are so many of you.
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colonelarr0w · 7 months
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Heyy 💜
I read that you are accepting requests so I came here to ask for one with Nanami but he as a teenager (because I've been in love with him since that time lol) would like to see his first time, a cute smut at first because he seemed to be so inexperienced and introverted but later he could have a kinky side 🥴
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Sypnosis - Read above request.
Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, smut, Gojo being nosy asf
A/N - I do plan to make a part 2 to this piece, so I decided to focus on Reader for this piece and then Nanami in the second one. It'll make more sense once y'all read it, I promise.
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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For the six months that you and Nanami had been together, the farthest that you two got in terms of intimacy was heated make outs and rough grinding – both of which were done with about as much grace as a baby cow trying to ice skate.  
That didn't mean that either of you wanted to take it further, it was just that neither of you really knew how.  
And what didn't make any of this better? 
Satoru Gojo constantly being up Nanami's ass about it. 
"While I appreciate your input-" 
"If you 'appreciated' my input," Gojo lifts his fingers and mocks making air quotes, "then you would take my advice and – y'know – not be a virgin anymore." 
Nanami's eye twitches in fury, eyebrows pinched together as the snowy-haired male shrugs his shoulders, rolling his eyes with the most 'I-said-so' expression that he had ever seen on another human being.  
"Your advice is about as helpful as a fanfiction written by a middle school girl," Geto is quick to chime in, throwing an arm over Gojo's shoulder and patting his palm against his friend's chest. Gojo scoffs, jaw dropping open as he turns his head to glare daggers into Geto.  
"Excuse me, my advice is-" 
"Hi Ken! Hi everyone!" Your happy voice is what effectively kills the growing argument, bright smile infecting the group in front of you – all of them turn to return your greeting. Nanami's smile is much more toned down than the others, but that doesn't mean nobody fails to notice the way his lips quirk upward the moment your lips come into contact with his cheek.  
"Hello," Nanami is the first to respond, eyes softening at you as you pull away and wave to greet the others. Gojo glances at Nanami, sending him a knowing glance that is shrugged off by the blonde. "I thought you were busy training today?" 
"Nope! Yaga gave me the rest of the afternoon off, so I figured I'd come by and grab you," you say with a grin on your face, lifting a hand to affectionately pat his cheek. "I went out shopping yesterday and got snacks and a movie." 
Nanami finds himself smiling again, completely ignoring the existence of those around him, eyes focused on you like a lovesick puppy. He squeezes the hand that rests on his face, nodding his head at the request.  
"What movie did you pick out?" Nanami asks innocently – his tone of voice makes Gojo snicker. You glance curiously at the third-year, who only turns swiftly away from you and whistles as if he had done nothing.  
"Just some cheesy rom-com," you answer just as innocently, smiling again at your boyfriend. Nanami glances quickly at Gojo, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Gojo's curled lips – he was grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat.  
"It sounds nice. Would you like to watch it now?" 
You nod eagerly, already reaching for your boyfriend's hand. He allows your fingers to slip into his own, feeling himself chuckle as you squeeze happily at them. You bid the rest of the group farewell, waving politely to them before turning in the direction of the student dormitories. 
Nanami glances over his shoulder at the group as you both depart, feeling his cheeks heat at the hand gestures that Gojo throws up. That little- 
< … > 
"Ken," you breathe into his mouth, arms wound around his neck as your lips move against his own. The movie is still playing in the background, but its plot is entirely forgotten – not that either of you minded in the slightest.  
His hands grip at your hips, moving them across his own and swallowing your moans. You pull back from him to catch your breath, whining lightly as you grind your hips against his own. Nanami smirks to himself, leaning forward to lightly kiss at your neck, relishing in the way you try (and fail) to hold back moans.  
"What is it?" Nanami asks quietly, perking an eyebrow at you as your movements against him still. You glance at him, eyes lust-blown and your cheeks reddened with lust. He already knows what it is that you want – but he would be lying if he said that he wasn't a nervous wreck. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. 
"I – why don't we – you know," you whisper nervously, your hands on Nanami's shoulders to keep yourself grounded. He tilts his head at you, urging you to continue speaking. He doesn't quite know why, but he wants to hear you say it – he wants you to verbalize exactly what it was that you wanted.  
"Why don't we what?"  
"C'mon Ken," you whine, moving your hips against his once. He grits his teeth, suppressing the moan that climbs up his throat at the drag of your hips against his own. You smirk at the reaction you pull from him, leaning forward so that your lips just barely ghost against his. "You know." 
Nanami glances up at you, swallowing his nervousness and leaning forward again, attaching his lips to your neck and kissing the skin there. You exhale shakily, nails biting into his shoulders as you rock against him again. 
"Are you sure?" Nanami mutters against your neck, his breath fanning over your skin and making you shiver in the best way possible.  
"I'm sure." 
Nanami continues to place featherlight kisses against your neck, hands moving your hips back and forth against his own, craving that friction that you had provided. You don't protest, allowing him to move you while he sucks a dark purple hickey into your neck – one that you would definitely have trouble hiding in the morning.  
Hesitantly, his hands travel upwards, one hand cupping over your clothed breast and giving it an apprehensive squeeze. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes flickering up to meet his own as he gives you a look that asks 'is this okay'.  
You nod again at him, urging him to keep going.  
Nanami's hands return to your hips, where he then guides you off of his lap and lays you down flat on the couch, hovering over you. His lips connect with yours in a hungry kiss, lips moving in sync with your own. His hands wander, squeezing and groping your tits. 
You moan quietly into his mouth, tangling your hands in his hair and mussing his bangs. He smirks against your lips, hungrily swallowing your moans. His hands continue their assault, thumbs experimentally flicking over your nipples through your shirt. 
That pulls a particularly loud whine from you – one that Nanami immediately wants to hear again.  
Hesitantly, Nanami begins to lift your shirt, getting it rolled up to your stomach before you wiggle the rest of the way out, throwing the clothing across the room. He leans down to kiss you again, his hands working to quickly unclasp your bra and discard that as well.  
The moment that your tits spill out over your chest, Nanami flicks his thumb against one of your nipples, relishing the whine that you let out. Your back arches from the couch, body not quite used to the sensation that Nanami had been the source of.  
"Ken," you moan out, raising a hand to tilt his head so that his gaze meets yours. He nearly cums in his pants at the expression you wear – lust-blown pupils and slightly swollen lips from the force at which he had kissed them.  
He exhales, leaning his head down and dragging his tongue down the valley of your breasts, eyes occasionally flickering up to you just in case you wanted him to stop. Your hands tangle in his hair, fingernails scraping along his scalp – you truly didn't want him to stop. Not that he was opposed. 
He turns, bringing one nipple into his mouth and hesitantly running his tongue over it. Your back arches, lips parting to release a choked-out moan as he swirls the tip of his tongue over your hardened nipple.  
“Ken,” you whine out again, glancing down your body at him and panting as you wait in anticipation. His hands hook underneath the waistband of your pants, helping you shimmy out of them with a small smirk plastered onto his face.  
“What is it?” he whispers, his hands holding your hips with his thumbs rubbing soft circles into the supple flesh. He squeezes them lovingly, earning a whine from you. “You’ll have to tell me.” 
“C’mon Kento, stop teasing,” you whine, bucking your hips upward and chasing the pleasure that his hands had been giving you up until that point. He smirks, leaning down to kiss your pussy over your panties — the feeling making you squirm in anticipation.  
“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” Nanami answers honestly, kissing your pussy again before his eyes flicker up to meet yours, taking a mental note of the expression of lust that occupies your face.  
"I am," you whisper in response, moving your hips upward again in a silent plea for him to continue. Nanami hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and biting back a breathy chuckle at the way you eagerly help him in removing the article of clothing.  
He runs a finger down your glistening folds, your body stuttering at the touch and a broken moan falling from your lips. He lifts his hand for a moment, twisting his wrist so that the pad of his thumb rubs circles into your clit – the action sends sparks up your spine.  
You whine out at the contact, lifting your hips to drag your clit along his finger. In response, he continues to rub circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves, feeling his cock strain in his pants at the sound of your whines and moans.  
Hesitantly, Nanami leans in, tentatively flicking his tongue against your clit. Your body jolts forward, hands tangling in his hair. You tug him closer to your pussy, letting out a panted breath as he presses a featherlight kiss against your clit.  
He remains between your legs for what feels like hours – even though it had to have been only fifteen minutes at most. He licks, sucks, and drags his tongue flat against your pussy, eager to pull those sweet sounds from your throat.  
"Ken...fuck...I'm cumming!" Your voice raises in pitch as your back arches off of the couch, chest stuttering as the knot in your stomach – which had been building up slowly – snaps completely. Nanami continues his assault on your pussy, desperate to feel you cum against him.  
He sucks your clit between his lips, that being enough to send you over the edge. Your hips buck up into him, small shocks sent through your entire body as you lay back down against the couch, panting and trying to catch your breath. 
Nanami rises from his spot between your legs, dragging the back of his knuckles against his lips as he stares through half-lidded eyes to admire your fucked out expression. Soft pants fall from your parted lips, a small line of drool dribbling down your chin — which he swipes his thumb against. 
“Are you alright?” he asks softly, smiling as your eyes focus on him again. Your own lips quirk upward, eyes crinkling at the corners.  
"Better than alright," you answer honestly, panting slightly as you prop yourself up on your elbows, gazing down at Nanami through half-lidded eyes.  
He finds himself smiling at your exhaustion, crawling up to you and softly pressing his lips to yours. You moan quietly against his lips, your fingers weaving into his golden locks and tugging lightly. He pulls back to admire you again, both of you staring at the other in comfortable silence.  
"I think that's enough for you," he whispers. You shake your head at him, though your eyes betray you, slowly blinking at him and biting back the yawn that threatens to escape your lips. "Yes. Come now, don't worry about me, you're exhausted." 
"I'm not," you weakly protest, leaning your forehead against Nanami's. He chuckles at you, bringing you into his arms and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. "Kento." 
"Hush," he shushes you, squeezing you. You sigh, allowing your heavy eyes to fall shut, body curling closer to his and absorbing the warmth that he radiates. "There's always next time," he promises. You hum in response.  
Yeah, there was always next time. 
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opiopal · 2 months
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•All I wanted was bread•
2
(This is the second part of my TSL fic, I apologize if this part seems a little rushed? I was attempting to get to the brothers as soon as possible.
The characters in this part are Mc(you), the crows, a very mean Lucifer, and mammon(who appears for a split second). Simeon, luke, are mentions but do not appear.)
(I apologize again if this sucks, I haven’t actually written in a long time)((pt 3 will be out as soon as I can write it))
Being alone was hard.
You were used to having someone to talk to, make jokes with, someone to teach, someone to help you cook, someone that was always waiting for you after you got off work.
But now it was just you, in the same house, with the same dirty windows, the same crummy writing desk now with no one to sit in it, the same worn down floors, and the same familiar beds but with no familiar boys sleeping in them.
But, you were yourself, you were human, you adjusted quickly.
Soon you fell into your own rhythm after about two months had gone by.
You wake up nearly the moment the sun shines through the window, throwing off the covers and quickly putting on your day clothes, you don’t waste a second hanging around in the bedroom, knowing that if you dwell for to long you’ll only find yourself getting sad at the lack of company. So you quickly push through the bedroom door, letting it shut behind you as you grab a small basket of seed and the pitcher of water.
The moment you step outside you are greeted by the caw of multiple crows sitting on your roof and hopping around on the ground,
“Good morning to you all,”
You quickly scatter seed across the ground, letting them flock to the area as you begin to water your garden. It had actually begun flourishing now that the crows leave it alone(for the most part), and now its something to be decently proud of.
Once you’re finished up, you head inside quickly, you need to get going soon for work so something quick will have to do for breakfast.
But, once you open the cupboard you remember you had finished off the bread yesterday. You rummage through the kitchen for a good while and find only oats are left. Taxes were due yesterday so you were low on money as well…
No matter! You tell yourself, you can always just buy some more food after work today! Since you get paid daily and not weekly.
So you ignore the growing pit in your stomach and head off for work after securing your shoes to your feet.
Sweeping and dusting felt like a much bigger task when hungry, but you’ve worked plenty of times while hungry before, so it’s nothing new to you. But it was still annoying to have to occasionally hear that grumble from your stomach, interrupting your thoughts. As the hours slowly ticked by you could feel yourself growing more grumpy and irritated, but you kept yourself polite when you talked with the other cleaners occasionally and quietly.
At some point during the afternoon, you were going back over the downstair floors, sweeping dirt from visitors walking in right back out the door. Then you heard the voice of your employer, for a moment you didn’t think anything of it until you processed that it sounded like she was scolding someone.
Your never ending curiosity got the better of you and you make your way over to a study, peaking inside you see her practically shouting at an elderly cleaner to clean the windows faster.
“We will be having guests in this room and they don’t need to see a hag such as yourself! It isn’t that hard to reach the top of the window- stop being lazy!”
You watch her kick the stool in which the cleaner was standing on, causing her to stumble and struggle to keep her balance. You feel anger bubbling up in your chest and you feel your face getting warm. This combined with your hunger just made you even angrier.
Before you could even process what you are doing, your feet are moving on their own and your arms swing the door open hard enough for it to bounce off the wall loudly.
“DONT KICK HER YOU WENCH!”
Silence fills the room as both women look at you baffled, just as you process what you had done, you watch as the lady of the house’s face turn a bright red as she shrieks.
“EXCUSE YOU!?”
It had hardly even been high noon and you were already heading back home. Because of course you had been fired immediately after your outburst.
But it’s not like you could help it- you were hungry and awfully close to that old woman, and seeing her get kicked around by someone young enough to be be her granddaughter was just- infuriating! And even now you could still feel your rage bubbling up inside your chest, though a lot of it was now replaced by shame and anxiety. Why did you have to open your mouth? Why couldn’t you have just walked away? Why did you have to be some sort of hero? But what would have happened if you did walk off? Would the have woman fallen and broken something? Would the lady of the house left her there on the ground?! WHAT IF-
Your thoughts are interrupted by someone stepping Infront of you and loudly clearing their throat.
“Ahem.”
You look up and are met with one of the messengers from the palace,
“Oh- I’m sorry I didn’t noti-“
“Of course you didn’t.”
They say roughly before shoving an envelope into your hands.
“I- thank yo-… ok, yeah, walking away is fine to. I guess.”
You watch them as they walk off, brushing off their hands onto their pant leg. You look down at the envelope and realize it’s from Simeon! Excitement bubbles up inside you, but only for a moment as you remember your situation once again.
Once you made it back home, the crows surrounding the small building caw in confusion as to why you’re home so early in the day. You plop down on the ground, resting your forehead in the palm of your free hand. You hear the little bodies of your friends land on the ground as they hop around you. One even worms his way into your lap to look up at your face.
Though you tried for a moment, you can’t help but let out a small laugh as you fix your posture, gently petting the crow in your lap as you do so.
“I got fired today. And of course I didn’t get paid for the hours I already worked.”
You sigh.
“I suppose it’s my own fault. I let my emotions get the best of me and I didn’t control myself.”
You hear a collection of loud caw’s from the small murder around you.
“What? It’s not like I didn’t know how to control myself, I was being impulsive-“
Another collective caw.
You sigh, realizing for a moment that you are indeed talking to birds and responding as if they can understand you. When in reality your brain is telling you that they’re just hungry. After a moment longer of sitting outside you turn your attention back to the unopened envelope in your hand.
You inhale slowly before ripping it open, tossing the envelope to the side as you read through the letter.
“Dear Mc,
I am writing in favor of an extremely excited Luke, who has been excelling in his lessons at an extraordinary rate, and has recently begun learning about the extended history of the kingdom. Which he says is a bit complicated, but he’s having fun anyways.”
You feel a smile creep up onto your face, it always made you feel better to know that Luke was living the best possible life the world could provide.
“Now I myself am doing well, the palace is still just as gorgeous and we are both well fed and warm every single night.”
Your stomach lets out an envious grumble.
“But what I wish to know is how you are doing. You are always on my mind and I can’t help but worry for your wellbeing. Though I trust you are managing just fine without me.”
You feel your face scrunch up slightly as you cringe.
By the time you finish reading you feel many emotions in your gut. You’re proud of Luke and very happy, though Simeon only talked of himself once you know he’s also doing just fine, which relieves you. But how are you supposed to tell him what’s happened?
You sigh as you set the letter down, rubbing your eyes and sitting motionless for what feels like ages.
Then a clink is heard.
You turn your head and notice one of the crows nudging a single coin towards you. Carefully you take it and smile.
“Ah, now what’s this? A gift? My my, how generous of you my friend.”
The crow puffs its little chest out pridefully. Though it wasn’t a lot you still appreciated the thought.
You turn your attention back to the letter for a moment before sighing, and heading back inside to try and figure out what in the world to say to Simeon.
Two weeks have passed at this point.
For some reason, it was suddenly impossible to find a job, no one wanted to pay you to do anything at all. So you haven’t had any form of income.
The pit in your stomach was a constant reminder of your situation, you could have a whole conversation with the growls that came from your gut daily. Sure your garden kept you alive these past weeks, but you needed something more, some actual protein, anything at all.
Occasionally you had the intrusive thought of just.. taking one of the crows inside with you.. and-
Of course you couldn’t even finish the thought without feeling overwhelming guilt. Because how in the world could you bring yourself to do that to something that trusts you so much!?
However. You didn’t ignore all of your intrusive thoughts.
One day you were walking through the market, hoping and praying that anyone at all you exchange food for the small amount of money you managed to hold onto. Then you spot a stall set up right outside the bakery.
Not only was it littered with sweets, but also different types of bread. Your eyes land specifically on an awfully large loaf of sourdough. You approach the stall, looking at the selection.
No ones paying attention, the baker isn’t even tending to the stall… it would be quite the shame if someone had taken a loaf. Especially since it was just so enticing. No. No. You couldn’t imagine anyone doing such a thing.
But no one was around, no one was even looking in your general direction, it was just one loaf, just one, there’s plenty..
just take it.
your mind screamed at you.
It’s- it’s fine, you’re hungry. Just take the bread Mc. Take it. Your window is closing. Take the opportunity. Take the bread. Take it. TAKE IT. JUST TAKE IT THE DAMN BREAD.
Before you knew it you quickly snatched the loaf and began walking away.
Your mind immediately started racing. Theres no way no one saw that, right? How was is that easy? Well, maybe you just got luck-
“HALT! THIEF!”
Well shit.
Without thinking twice you immediately break into a sprint. Shoving past bystanders and even a few shocked folks who knew you.
No no no no crap- dammit. Well you’re already running you can’t stop now!
You duck and doge past anything that had gotten in your way, barrels, carts, horses, cattle, it didn’t matter, your adrenaline was control your body as you hugged the loaf of bread to your chest as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world, because at this moment, it did.
Though you were only one person, and guards quickly blocked you off and seized you.
Now you might have been let go, maybe they would have even let you explain yourself and pitied you. But the moment you saw the smallest amount of exposed skin on one of the men grabbing ahold of you… with your adrenaline still coursing through your veins, your jaw flies open as you bite down on his arm. Causing a loud yelp to be heard from the guard.
..which also caused you to not be let go. And caused you to not have a second to explain yourself. And instead you found yourself being dragged by the arms by two guards.
Your knees scrapped against the ground below due to the fact that the guards didn’t stop for a moment to even let you stand. The cloth of your clothing thankfully acted as a sort of shield, but yet not enough of one as you could still feel the familiar sting of skin being broken and torn.
You could hardly process where in the world you were being taken, all you could focus on is the burning by in your knees and the occasional distant caw. Why were you wearing caws? You then saw a crow fly past, surely that didn’t mean anything at all. Right?
Then, you saw the palace growing closer.
No.. there’s no way they’re taking you to the LORDS because some bread?! Sure you bit a guard but there’s no way this warrants being taken to the LORDS!! OVER BREAD!
Despite your disbelief and silent reasoning, you’re dragged past the gates and into a grand court yard filled with hedges being tended to and trimmed by servants. And of course a stone pavement in which your knees could scrape further against.
You could hardly even take in the towering sight of the palace before being brought inside the magnificent piece of architecture, and into a throne room.
The throne room was massive, of course the first thing you noticed after being forcefully knelt down on the marble floor, was the seven thrones, elevated to loom over everyone and anyone placed infront of them. And unfortunately, that was you at the moment. The walls were covered with beautiful tapestries and suits of armor-which you couldn’t tell if they were occupied or not- lined the pillars in the room.
As the guard to your left begins to yammer on about how you were a “violent” and “masterful” thief, you scan the thrones. Each of the lords sat in their own respective spots. Of course the oldest being in the center throne. Though the spot to the right of the oldest was empty.. one of the lords werent present at the moment. But of course that was not your biggest concern.
You’re pulled out of your thoughts as you watch the Lord of Corruption rise out of his throne, walking forwards and down the steps to be on ground level. Your eyes quickly scan him up and down, taking in the detail of his black armored clothes with blue detailing, the shape of his jaw and nose, and his black greying hair which framed his face like some sort of painting.
His eyebrows were raised in amusement as he stared down at your knelt form. You feel the grip on your arms tighten as if to keep him safe from you, as if that would make the guards story seem more believable.
“And this… peasant.. is a dangerous and violent thief that I’ve never heard a single word about?”
He sounded entertained, as if he thought this whole ordeal was just as ridiculous as you did. He stops right in front of you. Staring down before a low chuckle leaves his throat.
“Ah yes. What a terrifying creature.”
You hear a small collection of giggles and chuckles throughout the room, laughing with him and at you.
You attempt to glance around the room again, maybe to gain a better sense of your surroundings or to even calm yourself, but then the lord slowly knelt down in front of you, grabbing your chin to force your head forwards as he stares. Entirely to close to your face.
“Hm, so you two bring me a little human thief and claim it’s dangerous. How ridiculous.-“
Without a second thought you pull your head back and spit at him.
Maybe that’s an understatement.
On him.
No no. In.
In his face.
You spit in the face of the Lord of Corruption. Causing gasps of shock to be heard throughout the throne room as he immediately stands and backs away in disgust, embarrassment, and anger. Your face turns to horrified as you realize what you have just done. A maid rushes up and quickly goes to clean his face, only for him to snatch the small rag from them and to wipe his cheek clean.
“Why you insignificant little..”
He approaches again, this time more aggressively as he tosses the rag onto the floor. His hand shoots out and roughly grabs a fist full of your hair, forcing you to stand as your own hands shoot up to grip his wrist, a whine escapes your throat as you try to gain balance to keep the sudden pain at bay.
“I’ll have your head for that you-“
His words are cut short as the sound of wings and caws fill the room. Above on the rafters sat multiple crows, cawing angrily and loudly. Their voices echo throughout the room as if in a noisy protest of the scene unfolding below them. The both of you stare upwards, his grip your hair faltering just for a moment before tightening again. He turns his head to look back at you with an accusatory expression on his face, nearly immediately piecing together that all the ruckus from the birds above just has to be your fault.
But then the caws suddenly die down as doors are swung open, ricocheting off the wall with a loud boom as an out of breath voice full of panic shouts into the room.
“WAIT.”
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silhouetteonpaper · 4 months
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DERIVED FROM POWER | CH. 4
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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5
WC: 2828
Warnings: None
CHAPTER FOUR
Y/N dragged her feet as Natasha guided her back up to the floor she attempted to flee from, her arm around the young girl’s shoulder as a comforting gesture, as well as a precaution in case she decided to run. The team knew she could use simple aspects of her abilities, so they stayed on their toes just in case she chose to. But at the end of the day, Y/N truly seemed like a sweet girl who wanted to stay out of trouble. Unfortunately, that was the thing following her constantly.
The feeling of Natasha’s arm around her made Y/N’s expression soften, her parents having never used physical touch as a way to show support or love. They only used it when posing as a ‘perfect family’ for the photos, Y/N getting side hugged between her parents while the cameras flashed.
Tony stayed close to the pair as he walked briskly in front of them to his own room, ready to get back to sleep. Y/N rolled her eyes once he shut his bedroom door, knowing he cared more about the money this position offered than the actual human he was protecting. Still, Tony would do all he could to make sure she was safe, just not with a consistent smile on his face.
Peter split ways with the group to go into his own room as well, offering a soft wave as he opened a door farther down the hall and disappeared inside. Y/N smiled back at him, forcing herself to swallow the joy that she felt when thinking about what he said. It was probably one of the nicest things she’d ever heard, so she let herself replay it over and over.
Natasha wasn’t completely in the mood for her smiley demeanor though, softly pushing her toward her bed once they reached Y/N’s room. “Can I trust you to stay in here for the rest of the night?” She asked scoldingly. At that moment Y/N’s exhaustion became more overwhelming, a yawn preventing her from speaking as she nodded and sat down on her bed. Natasha laughed, pausing before walking out of the room. “I know today was a lot, but we can deal with everything tomorrow. Just get some rest. Goodnight.” She spoke with a warm smile as the door softly closed. It didn’t take long for the girl to get comfortable under the gray comforter, Natasha’s words repeating in her head. Deal with it tomorrow. Soon, Y/N fell fast asleep as the chaos from the day turned to yesterday’s events.
The large window allowed the bright sun to illuminate the room, a strong ray finding its way to Y/N’s face. The girl blinked her eyes open slowly, squinting as the blinding light filled her vision. She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face as she began to remember where she was. Her feet still hurt from running in her heels last night, and her arm was a bit sore from the wound. Otherwise, she felt physically fine.
Mentally, though, Y/N felt terrible. Like she was a sitting duck just waiting to get shot, letting the other ducks around her take the fall too. Not to compare superheroes to ducks, but the metaphor still stands. Her parents left her, and she knew it was only a matter of time before the next people who are supposed to protect her do as well.
The girl's worries were quickly interrupted by soft voices coming from down the hall. She crept out of bed, freshening up in the bathroom before going to investigate. To her surprise, she was greeted by a bunch of smiling faces in the kitchen. All of the Avengers were awake, and sharing nods, good mornings, and waves to the young girl that walked tiredly to join them. There were some new faces though, ones Y/N couldn’t quite recognize as she was still waking up.
“Hey, Y/N. I’m Wanda.” A strawberry blonde woman spoke. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” Y/N smiled, now bringing herself back to full consciousness as she extended her hand for Wanda to shake.
“Nice to meet you too.” Y/N told her, waiting for Wanda to shake her hand. She simply laughed, quickly covering her mouth to see that the girl was serious about the formal introduction.
“I know you’re the senator's kid, but you don’t have to do that here. We’re not fancy like that.” Wanda explained. Y/N cringed slightly out of embarrassment, dropping her hand and quickly tucking her hair behind her ear to break the awkward gesture. “Don’t worry, I’ve seen Tony slip on a wet floor, it’s ten times more memorable and laughable.” Wanda told the girl, hoping to bring her some reassurance.
Y/N laughed, imagining the billionaire ignoring a wet floor sign out of carelessness and slipping onto his back. The two both shared the joke, Natasha nudging Steve’s arm and nodding toward Y/N, noticing how big she was smiling. It was a relief to the pair that the young girl was able to joke with a smile on her face, maybe she would soon start fitting in and become more open to the idea of staying.
“Good morning, Y/N!” Natasha strutted over once the conversation with Wanda met a pause. Right on her heels was a blonde girl who Y/N had yet to meet. “Oh, this is my sister Yelena. Yelena, this is Y/N.”
Yelena raised her eyebrows, a smirk forming as she spoke. “Ah, so you’re the girl we’ve been obsessed with. I don’t see what all the fuss is about.” Yelena voices, earning an elbow to the side from Natasha. Y/N was surprised to hear the accent lacing her words, too entertained to be offended. “Ow! I was kidding!” The blonde exclaims.
“Excuse my sister, her and Wanda just got back from a long, tiring mission.” She shot a glare at Yelena, who put her hands up in fake defense. “How’d you sleep, Y/N?” Natasha asked after her sisterly fighting concluded. The girl shrugged.
“As good as I could have for a girl that just learned her closest ancestor is a rock.” She joked. The three women laughed, understanding the whole ‘superpower’ thing was an incredibly confusing topic to be entangled with. But the Avengers as a whole were glad to see that Y/N was slowly opening up more, and seemingly comfortable with joking around about her newfound abilities.
Y/N herself still lacked trust, but for now seemed to go along with what the team was saying as she got to know them better. After all, she had known Steve since she was two, he was just doing his job with a different outfit on… and different persona. She was sad to see that the man she grew close with as a security personal was not who she thought he was, but this side of him was almost even better. She could see him interact with the Avengers as a team, not as a discreet employee under her parents.
“If you’re going to sneak out, at least try to be more discreet.” A figure stood in Y/N’s bedroom doorway, the young girl crawling out of her window. She sighed, seeing Johnson—the security guard—catching her in the act. She just wanted to hang out at a friend’s house like a normal teenager, but knew her parents would object. As she began to climb back inside, the security guard spoke again.
“If you promise to text at the smallest, tiniest, sign of danger, then my lips are sealed.” He smiled. Y/N grinned, her heart soaring at the idea of finally getting to be a normal teenager, this time with permission… kind of. She thanked Johnson before exiting the window and sliding down to the ground, the man helping close the window behind her.
“Looks like someone’s still a bit tired today. Hello? Y/N?” Steve waved his hand in front of the young girl who was staring blankly at the counter. She shook her head, coming back to the present moment. She got lost in the memory, leaving the real world as her mind re-lived the past experience.
“Sorry, what?” Y/N apologized, now bringing her attention to the group. Steve chuckled.
“We were wondering if you wanted to train with us today, maybe learn about your abilities more? Might as well since you’ll be stuck here for a while.” He offered. The group nodded with him, their eyes fixed on Y/N curious for her answer. The young girl bit her lip, unsure if it was a good idea. The thought of training with professional agents made her stomach twist, she knew she had no skill compared to them.
“Can I watch for today? Get an idea of how you guys train? I’d feel more comfortable joining in after observing.” She asked, wanting to gauge exactly how these superheroes trained to fight. Most of the fighting she saw from the Avengers was on the news, where they’d take down buildings full of enemies or attack weird looking creatures. She was curious how someone prepares for those things, especially people with superpowers.
“Of course, that’s a great idea. You can sit on the side and watch today. Then tomorrow, if you’re up for it, you can join us.” Steve voiced. Y/N nodded, feeling good about their plan. What the girl didn’t mention, though, is that she didn’t intend to stick around long enough to reach tomorrow. They only caught me last night because they expected it. She told herself, knowing it was worth another attempt at escaping if she did it when they weren’t prepared.
After a quick breakfast, the team gathered in a large open room—the training room. The tall ceiling was supported by a huge wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that let in lots of natural light. There was anything a training agent could possibly need, from racks of every weapon to targets and dummies for practice. Mats lined one side of the room to provide space for combat, and benches for resting sat up against the windows.
The Avengers were all dressed in workout gear, leaving Y/N a bit underdressed in her sweatpants and T-shirt, but she didn’t mind. She sat on a bench, focusing in as the training session began.
Steve led the group at first, eventually splitting them off with tasks to work on specific things. Clint picked up a bow, grasping a few arrows in hand as he stood a distance from the wooden target. One by one, he aimed an arrow, placing it swiftly yet gently in the center of his bow before drawing it back and letting it snap. She watched him calculate the arrows movement, choosing exactly how it would fly through the air. The young girl studied his technique closely, eventually understanding exactly how he was going to shoot the next arrow.
She moved her attention to Natasha and Steve, who were moving back and forth on the mats as they sparred. Practicing hand-to-hand combat, Natasha threw some well thought out punches as Steve attempted to block and counter attack. They took turns throwing hits and receiving blows, offering some simple to advanced moves. Y/N’s eyes flicked back and forth between the pair, her mind noting every single move they made.
After an hour and a half of watching the team train, Y/N felt a little more confident. Although she’s never had to throw a punch or shoot an arrow, she studied the Avengers’ work thoroughly enough to get a deep understanding of how they fought. Maybe, if she focused hard enough, she could be capable of fighting for herself.
Everyone was sweating and hungry after their intense workout, the group all heading to the kitchen to grab lunch. As people pulled out ingredients for various meals, Tony turned to Y/N. “After I grab something to eat, come join me in my lab. We’re going to test out your powers today.” He told the girl. 
Her eyebrows raised, surprised that they wanted to test them out so soon. But ultimately, it made sense. HYDRA wasn’t going to stop looking for her, so it would be useful to learn how to harness her powers for protection. She nodded, spreading some peanut butter on a slice of bread. She wasn’t super hungry, but didn’t want to make a fuss and not eat while everyone else was. The last thing she wanted was to draw more unwanted attention to herself.
“It was cool watching you guys train today, I’ve only seen you all in action on the news, so it’s nice to know you don’t need powers to be a badass.” Y/N expressed as she sat at the table, impressed by their hard work. She noticed how no one really used any superhuman abilities today, yet still displayed a variety of skills.
Steve nudged Clint and Natasha, chuckling. “Yeah, you don’t need powers to be cool!” He teased them. They rolled their eyes, ignoring him as they dug into their meals. Y/N shook her head with a laugh. She wondered if she could ever fight as well as they did. What if I never get the hang of my powers? She thought, the idea of having her only hope at a defense against HYDRA vanishing made her anxious. She tried to swallow her nerves as she finished her food, biding time until she met with Tony.
“Don’t touch anything.” Tony said as he led Y/N into his lab. The room was quite futuristic and modern, different robots and beeping machines scattering the room. The girl lifted her hands up defensively, pretending to be offended that Tony would think someone like her lacked respect.
He sat at a desk with a large computer screen, typing away at his keyboard without bothering to look at Y/N. She sat in a chair on the other side of the desk, continuing to look at all the busy machines and technology. “Can you hand me that file, over on the table there? Oh, but without touching it.” He asked. Y/N furrowed her brow, but then quickly realized what he was asking.
She spotted the file and focused her eyes closely on it. Soon, the file was in the air, her eyes guiding it over to Tony’s desk. He could see the slight glint of purple that appeared in her irises, refraining from pointing it out for now. Tony nodded slowly as it landed softly in front of him, Y/N now looking up and breaking her focus. “I’ve been waiting so long to see that.” He commented, having known about Y/N’s powers since she was two yet never actually seeing them. The girl laughed, agreeing it was pretty cool.
“Now I want you to set it on fire.” Tony ordered. Y/N looked up at him puzzled, was she even capable of that? She had no clue. But it seemed Tony knew of something she didn’t, some extent of power the girl held yet was unaware of. “Just try it, focus on the object and direct your energy toward it.” He assured.
Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath as she set her eyes on the file. Her mind honed in on the object completely, her stare intensified as the energy inside her began to build. In under fifteen seconds, the file was lit ablaze, Tony quick to dump a glass of water on it to extinguish the flames.
The young girl sat in shock after unfocusing from the now scorched file. “I hope that wasn’t an important file.” She joked awkwardly, still weirded out by this new ability. Tony chuckled, cleaning up the mess and throwing away the charred remains.
“This is only the beginning of what you can do, that’s why I encourage you to begin training as soon as possible. I understand you’re dealing with a lot at once, so whenever you’re ready. But know that you’re powerful and I want you here.” Tony spoke, his expression embellished with kindness, something the girl had yet to see in him prior. Y/N nodded, her own face softening.
“Thank you, I appreciate your help.” She responded, being genuine about her words. It was nice to know Tony, as well as the other Avengers cared about her, but she still was learning to trust. And still she repeated to herself that no matter how nice they were, no matter how much they showed their support and care, she couldn’t stay here.
Y/N was too scared of putting someone else at risk to even consider sleeping another night at the Avengers Tower. She was too worried about what, or who, might be out there. So, the next plan to escape soon formed in the front of her mind as she exited Tony’s lab.
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hiemaldesirae · 5 months
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Swap nonny here: I have more thoughts:
So during the 7 years were avox is dead, Alastor readily began taking up tons of Soul contracts, again only sinners that fit Vox's theme or ones Al new Vox would like. (Or knew how to take care of Vox's sharks.OHH I hot something: those sharks in canon-- what if they were picked out on a date? Like Alastor took Vox out to get ingredients for a seafood dinner, and Vox found these 2 little guys...just tiny little babies and Alastor saw his lovely mate/muse (his deer instincts insist on mate, but his human side insists on muse ) and he can't help it. He buys these 2 tiny little goobers for Vox. Now Alastor looks at this huge Fishtank after his radio broadcast and see these proud sharks, doing their little heart trick, and bumps the little mantel that that just says the aquarium's name.
Vox's voice sounds out: "Welcome to Voxtech! As you can see, I'm very busy, but you must have taken delight in my friends Alastor Jr. And Bambi. They're a hammerhead and tiger shark respectively...." *Vox's prerecorded voice goes on for a bit, cheerfully informing Alastor about Sharks.* "...These two beauties were given to me by someone I love deeply, my friend Alastor."
this is horrible. i left this for today because i knew if i went off with it yesterday id cry myself to sleep what the FUCK !!!!!!!!!!!!
i saw a comic that may or may not hv inspired this by the way where al buys vox two little fishes that eventually grow into his sharks (not how fish work. but you know. its hell) and it was heartbreaking then but now, seeing it restructured into the swap au where alastor, who had given these as a gift to vox as a symbol of his own love.......... i m gonna be sick i think. do you think he just sometimes stays in that aquarium room and sleeps there with voxs old head by his side. do you ever think nifftys walked in on him there, asleep and hugging voxs head tightly to his side as he has a restless sleep and just. drapes a blanket over both of them? and when he wakes up in the morning alastor almost fools himself into believing that the warm blanket draped over him and the smell of baked goods left behind on the table is from vox, the blue light from his tv screen shining down on him as he greets alastor in the morning- but then when al looks behind him, he sees the blue lights emanating from the shark tank and the note on the plate from niffty and the head by his side, and he just-
he almost wishes that vox had managed to land a killing blow on him that day.
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tomura-complex · 1 year
Text
Babysitter or something more? Part 3
Part 2
A/N: After a while, I'm finally back! And I have a question for you... Do you want me to make some smutty oneshots for Kinktober? Please let me know! <3
After another night with fever dreams, my eyes opened and they were so itchy. I heard something buzzing. I grabbed my phone and looked at the screen. Oh. It was a call from one of my group chats. I grumbled and answered it. The screen before me flashed and I saw toga’s face. She beamed like always. „Finally Y/n! What’s happening? I haven’t seen you for a whole week. And it isn’t like you to miss classes. You are always there.“ I opened my sore eyes and huffed. „I’m sorry, I… My body just stopped working.“ I mumbled tiredly. „Oh… You know what? Let’s make a sleep over at your apartment! I will tell Magne, we will bring food and drinks… And we will watch a movie! And paint nails! I will call you when we arrive, okay? Baii!“ She hung up and I watched the black screen. Fast and energetic. Just like always. I couldn’t even say no. I slowly stood up and started making myself look like a living human. I looked at the screen of my phone. Nothing from Tenko or Aizawa. Only some e-mails from my professors.
I unlocked the main door and Toga greeted me with her beaming smile. „Hi Y/n!“ She chuckled and hugged me. „Hey Y/n.“ Magne smiled. I let them inside my apartment and looked around. The cameras… they are gone. I prepared some bowls and glasses and sat down with them on my bed. I turned on the TV and Toga opened some chips and Magne poured some fizzy drinks and some wine. „I can see you need some rest sweetheart. We told you.“ Magne said reassuringly. Toga sat down between us. „Oh and I have some news from uni~“ She giggled. We put some novella on the TV and started listening to Toga’s news. „So, I was chatting with Miko yesterday and do you remember the scandal with her and Tenko?“ I perked up. „What happened?“ I mumbled confused. „You don’t know? Tenko stalked her for a whole semester! He was everywhere where she was! And she even saw him in front of her campus building! And even inside by the reception! It gathered all up and one day, she stopped him. I know that it was all over social media, everyone was filming it! She just blew up and started screaming at him and she threw some drink on him. And he was just sitting o the floor totally confused. But after this she didn’t see him anymore. He just stopped.“ Toga explained and I felt… quilt? No, that can’t be… „So I chatted with her and she told me, that she saw you on the street with Tenko. So Do you hide something from us?“ Toga looked at me curiously. „Oh, Y/n-chan with Tenko? I never saw that coming“ Magne gasped and my cheeks for some reason reddened. „That’s not true! We aren’t dating. Nothing like that. He… he was just probably walking the same direction.“ „Nuh-uh… she saw the two of you walking together.“ She smiled at me. I blushed even more. „I was just babysitting Eri! Nothing more! He just walked me home!“ I squeaked and drank the wine. Why am I blushing? I shouldn’t do that. I don’t want to see him ever again! Or do I?
The sleepover was great. We chatted, watched some romance movies, ate snacks and drank three bottles of wine. In the morning a slight headache woke me up. I started quietly cleaning the room, while girls still slept. I took out the trash and checked my mailbox. Some spam and… a letter? With no address? It will be probably some blackmailing from Tenko. Totally. I sat down on the stairs and opened it. There was a dried up lavender and a note. I took it out and carefully looked at it. ‚Meet me in the park by the gothic fountain. Today at 8 pm. Please.‘ I blinked and held it in my hands. I slowly went back to my apartment feeling kind of shocked. Toga energetically greeted me and grabbed the note. „Oh! You have another admirer! Oh, who could it be… I don’t know this handwriting…“ She mumbled focused on the letters. I quickly took it from her. „It’s nothing. Just a joke from someone.“
I walked into the park from underground station and looked around. I didn’t know what to wear, so I dressed up in casual jeans and a comfy sweater. I looked around and went to the fountain. There he stood… Dressed in a black suit with something in his hands. I gulped and went to him. „Hi.“ I whispered feeling embarrassed about my clothes. He only gasped. „You really came. After two days. Oh uh. Hi. Here.“ He mumbled quickly and pushed a bouquet into my hands. I took it and looked at it. There were flowers of so many flowers. „Thank you so much. They re so beautiful“ „N-not as you are.“ He mumbled and I blushed. „Why… why did you want me to come here?“ I mumbled kind of confused. „I… I’m sorry about what I did. I know that we didn’t start in the good way and. I don’t want to lose you. So please. Would you go on a date with me? Right now?“ I raised eyebrows at him. „Did Aizawa Sensei talk to you?“ Tenko jolted and looked at me. „How do you know this?“ He whispered looking embarrassed. In my head popped a vision of Tenko being scolded by Aizawa. I chuckled. „I… I will give the date a try.“ I smiled at him. I can hear a voice in my head screaming at me about what did I just do. But his expression, when I said that. He looked just like a boy being happy about some candy or a toy. He straightened up and let me hold his arm. „Thank you so much. Now my lady, let me lead the way.“ He smiled and we walked through the park. I can feel that Aizawa scolded him very badly and then told him what to do.
„Sit here please.“ He smiled and I sat down on a chair in some fancy restaurant. He sat down in front of me. I nervously looked around. „What’s wrong? Don’t you like it here?“ He asked, his voice slightly quivering. „N-no, it looks amazing here. I just… My clothes. I don’t fit here.“ „It’s okay. You’re special… for me.“ He whispered. I nervously smiled and took the menu. I started looking at the meals and froze. That’s so expensive… „T-Ten.“ I mumbled and looked at him. I was met with a hurt expression. I feel like something stabbed me in my heart. „I-I know that you want this date. I want to enjoy it too, but… isn’t this too much? It’s… too fancy for me. I… Can we go somewhere else please?“ I looked at his shoulders tensing, but then relaxing. He sighed in relief and stroked his hair, which he has in a mall ponytail. „Thank you. I… I chose this to impress you. It’s too snobby for me too.“ He mumbled. I stood up and took his hand. We left the restaurant and walked down the streets illuminated by many signs. Then I saw a very familiar yellow sign. „Do you wan to go to McDonald’s?“ I smiled at him and his eyes beamed. „Yes… please.“ I chuckled. He is so cute. I blinked. We entered, ordered some food and sat down.
The evening flew by really fast and Tenko was now walking me home. „What did you meant by: after two days?“ I said confused and looked at him. „Well… I sent you the letter two days ago and every evening, I waited and looked for you. And you finally came.“ He smiled and I was… Feeling bad for him? „I… I’m sorry about this.“ I mumbled, but Tenko smiled. „That’s okay.“ He said and stopped. I looked at my apartment building and I gulped. „Come with me… if you can…“ I whispered and he looked at me in disbelief. „Really? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.“ He mumbled. I took his hand and led him inside. „Okay.“ He whispered and went inside. We sat down on the bed together and looked at each other. I quickly gave him a little kiss. „Thank you for the date.“
Part 4
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seravphs · 1 year
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — ZHONGLI X FEM READER
You expected teaching Zhongli to live as a human to be difficult. You didn’t expect him to teach you lessons in return. 
wc — 1.5k
tags — Zhongli being broke per usual, sorry for dunking on Mondstadt that’s just the Liyuen bias, working through grief in the aftermath of Rex Lapis’ death 
glossary | chapter 2 of This Is How We Mourn The Living
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Walking through a silent Liyue is eerie. To see your city so adrift makes your heart ache. It’s never been as rowdy as Mondstadt (and good grief), but it’s still a trade city. There should be bustling crowds surveying wares. Hawkers should be tempting people to spend their hard earned paychecks on piles of hand carved Noctilucous Jade, steaming plates of Almond Tofu, and bouquets of fragrant Qingxin. 
Everything about this feels wrong.
You can only hope that later in the day, the sun will encourage more citizens to come out and bask in it’s warmth - even if Rex Lapis is no longer here to enjoy it with them.
Or at least to their knowledge. 
It’s all so confusing - how to handle their grief while keeping the very man responsible for it a secret, wiping their tears away in the company of the same god they’re crying for.
Zhongli’s steady footsteps bring you out of your thoughts. “I brought you a gift,” he says, before you can greet him. “In honor of our partnership.”
“Oh, there was no need. Thank you for your kindness.”
He winces. “Don’t thank me yet. I, ah, forgot-“
“You scoundrel!” There’s a young man chasing him down the street, one you’re quite familiar with. It’s the owner of A Second Life, Dongsheng, and he looks like he’s about to unsuspectingly murder the god that he prays to every morning before he starts work. 
You step between them. “What’s wrong?”
“This- this thief! He ordered a basket of lychee yesterday, only to show up today with no mora. Then, he tried to run off!”
When you pull off your hood, he recognizes you just as you recognized him. Upon seeing your face, he drops into an instant bow, shoulders stiff. It makes you uncomfortable. Your people should enjoy seeing you, not be afraid. It was another quality you wanted to learn from Ningguang. “I’m so sorry for my rudeness, jiyao mishu. I didn’t recognize you at first.”
“I wasn’t trying to run off without paying,” Zhongli says mildly. “I was simply hoping to find my acquaintance. You see, the lychee were a gift for her.”
Dongsheng blinks. Then, without a second of doubt, he presses the basket of lychee he was carrying with him into your hands. “These are free of charge, then.”
“What? No, I can’t!” You protest. 
He waits for you to finish speaking before he argues, ever deferential.
“I insist! We all know what you’ve done for Liyue. Please, take this as a token of my appreciation. I only regret that I cannot offer more. Though,” his voice drops an octave, forcing you to lean in if you want to hear his next words. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but I would be wary of the company you keep, my lady. All of Liyue treasures you - he would be very sorry if he took advantage of your kindness.”
If only he knew the true identity of who he was talking about.
As Dongsheng hurried back to his unsupervised fruit stand, Zhongli remarks, “You are very beloved.”
“And you,” you say archly, trying to hide your amusement, “are surprisingly bad with mora for being the god of it. What was that?”
“I have never needed to worry for mora, I suppose. Whatever I needed, I had.”
You would have never described Rex Lapis as cute. He was adored, venerated, worshiped - but not quite endearing. Yet, in the face of such blatant naiveté, from a god, no less, you couldn’t help smiling. “I suppose I will make that my first lesson in teaching you the ways of mortals.”
“Let’s address whatever task the Qixing have set for us today first. A contract is an equal bargain, and I intend to uphold my half of the agreement.”
You’ve been to Xigu Antiques many times before, but never under such inauspicious circumstances. It’s one of Ningguang’s favorite stores, suited for her expensive tastes, and many of the vases in the former Jade Chamber were sourced here. Usually only open after sunset, today, it’s not open at all.
“Linlang?” Knocking on the door receives no answer. You try again, but still, the door refuses to open. You’re just about to consider removing the door entirely when Zhongli presses your hand down. Just in time - the door swings open to reveal it’s owner, blowing her nose into a tissue. One more knock and you might have hit her right in the nose.
“I’m so sorry for the delay, my lady,” she looks embarrassed. “I haven’t been feeling my best lately.”
“No need for such formalities, that’s why I’m here. How are you feeling?” 
You lay a gentle hand on her arm, and that’s all she needs to start weeping into your shoulder. Though you weren’t exactly close, she had attended Ningguang’s dinner parties enough that you could call her a friend. Besides, you felt a special kinship to her. Everyone in Liyue was devoted to Rex Lapis, but Linlang was even more pious than the rest.
Zhongli stands awkwardly behind you. He doesn’t shift from foot to foot, as many people would in such an uncomfortable situation, but it’s impossible to ignore the looming presence of 6’1” man behind you. You’ve been surprised by him many times today, though you suppose anyone, even a god, would have a hard time getting used to a completely new form and life.
“Where are my manners?” Linlang sniffles, her voice thick and congested. You want to urge her not to speak more than she has to. “Please, come in.”
When you start washing the lychee you brought in the kitchen sink, she protests.
“How could I ask you to serve me, my lady?” 
You insist, anyway. 
“Linlang, this is Zhongli-xiansheng.” He frowns at your return to that old title. “We know it’s been a strange and difficult month, so if you feel any hardship at all, please feel free to call on me at Yuhai Pavilion. I share the same feelings as you about Rex Lapis, and it would not trouble me at all to lend you my ear.”
“Is he also a follower of Rex Lapis?” Linlang asks curiously.
“I suppose you could call him that.”
“Thank you.” Linlang looks down at her hands, twisted together in her lap. “I will survive. After all, Rex Lapis was not just mine, but the entire city’s.”
“But he was special to you, was he not?” Linlang’s family took pride in a direct connection to him. It was apparently her favorite story to tell, though you had not gotten the chance to hear it yet.
“I suppose I haven’t told you, my lady. Rex Lapis has kept watch over my family for centuries. He sent my great-great-grandfather a vision that started Xigu Antiques.” She takes a deep breath before she can continue, then another, and another, until she’s almost hyperventilating but still she can’t stop speaking, as if she’s been possessed. 
“I used to say that Mondstadt was incomparable to us. Our god has walked with us for all our history - and now he does so no longer.” Her tears do not stop. Uselessly, your hands flutter at your sides. All you usually offer in comfort is quiet platitudes, but here, it might make things worse.
Thankfully, Zhongli seems to know what to do. It’s almost effortless for him. Quietly, he offers her his hand, letting her grip his fingers until his knuckles are white, knowing he can do little else in this moment. Her shoulders shake with heaving sobs as you kneel in front of her, urging her to match her breaths to yours before she runs out of air.
The three of you sit with the suffocating grief in the room, letting it tire itself out like a child throwing a temper tantrum before Linlang recovers. Even crying, she’s pretty, her nose and cheeks lightly blushed. Zhongli pulls his hand away from her to rummage in his pocket.
“This is for you,” he says, drawing a red cord out. “It’s a leftover from the last Rite of Ascension. Tie it around your doorknob and it will keep evil spirits away. Consider it a parting gift of Rex Lapis - perhaps his protection extends beyond his death.”
Linlang considers him with wide eyed confusion, but she takes the cord from him anyways. She presses her lips to it, tears still leaking out of the corners of her eyes. “Thank you,” she murmurs, over and over again, though it feels as if she’s addressing the thread, and perhaps the spirit of Rex Lapis through it, rather than the two living people in the room.
You leave her like that, a scrap of red fluttering from her front door - the last piece she has left of a presence that has watched over her from before she was born.
“Thank you, Zhongli.”
He looks sympathetic. “I do not like to see her in pain, though I cannot reveal myself to her. I remember her ancestors - one of them looked just like her.” He’s lost in the memories of the past, and far from earlier, you recall how old he is, this god currently offering you his arm as you stroll along the streets of Liyue. The street lanterns twinkle like dying stars as he escorts you.
“Even if she isn’t aware, at least Rex Lapis still lives.”
Gently, as if he is trying not to cause offense, he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. Rex Lapis exists only as memories now.”
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beeeinyourbonnet · 29 days
Text
Covetous | Chapter 23
Pairing: Nostelle 
Rating: E
Summary: Father Joseph MacAvoy wakes up in a library across town with no idea of how he got there. When the kind librarian doesn’t kick him out immediately, he considers that maybe there’s more to life than alcohol.
[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 6] [chapter 7] [chapter 8] [chapter 9] [chapter 10] [chapter 11] [chapter 12] [chapter 13] [chapter 14] [chapter 15] [chapter 16] [chapter 17] [chapter 18] [chapter 19] [chapter 20] [chapter 21] [chapter 22]
[read on ao3]
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Belle and Nosty slipped in to mass just a few minutes before it started. There were nearly two dozen people there this week, but even if there’d only been five again, they’d have sat together in the back pew, close to the aisle in case they needed an escape.
Lucy, Nosty’s admirer, glanced back at them, returning Belle’s smile of greeting before staring at Nosty’s arm around her shoulders and facing forward. Belle also smiled at Archie and Gray and the old woman, but then she finally had to look at Joseph. 
He stared at her from the pulpit, and the church was small enough that she could see the bags under his eyes, the stubble on his cheeks. Guilt filled her stomach, but she swallowed it away. She had no reason to feel guilty.
Instead of the kicked dog look she expected, Joseph stared at the two of them with his jaw clenched, eyes resolute, much the same way Nosty was staring away from him. What did that mean?
The service began and Belle tried to follow the prayer card just to keep from being bored, but it was so hard when the longer it went on, the more anxious she felt. Yesterday, mass had sounded like a safe place with low stakes for her to assess the situation, but this mass in an all but empty room, with almost nothing between them and Joseph, was suffocating.
Not sure which of them she intended to comfort, she squeezed Nosty’s knee. He squeezed her shoulder but didn’t turn from his aimless staring. She wanted to crawl into his lap, tuck herself safely into his arms where she knew he wouldn’t let anything touch her, but she had to settle for his arm around her and her hand on him.
Too soon, everyone was setting down their hymnals because it was time for the sermon. Nosty’s knee bounced under her hand, and she wanted to tap her feet anxiously as well, but if both of them did, it would be too loud, so she pressed her heels into the floor like her life depended on it.
“Thank you all for coming today,” Joseph said. “I’d like to take this time to make a confession, and have all of you bear witness to me as I bear witness to you.
“I think it’s important that everyone know that their clergy, their spiritual leaders, are human as well, and capable of making huge mistakes just like anyone else. I’m sure some clergy might disagree, but I know that we’re not exempt from making amends.”
Nosty’s fist clenched by her ear. She squeezed his knee, a sense of calm washing over her. Whatever happened, it would be over soon.
“I made a horrible mistake.” Joseph looked around the sanctuary. “I hesitate to call it a mistake now, because at the time, I thought I was being righteous, justified. A ‘mistake’ makes it seem like an accident, like I stepped on your toes as I walked by, but this wasn’t an accident. It was wrong.”
Everyone in the church was rapt, or maybe Belle was just unable to hear anything but the sermon.
“I treated someone very badly, someone that I would have liked to call a friend.” Joseph glanced down at his notes, then straight at Belle and Nosty. “He didn’t deserve that.” 
Belle almost didn’t dare to believe it. Nosty’s leg stilled.
“The truth is, I was a prick.” A murmur of laughter spread, but Nosty and Belle were silent. Joseph shook his head. “I don’t want to go into specifics, because I’d like to respect his privacy, something I haven’t done in the past, but I think it’s important for me to take accountability here, publicly, in my place of worship, this place that’s supposed to be a sanctuary for all lost souls.
“I wanted to be a good, kind person, but I didn’t want to give up anything to do it.” He looked straight at Nosty then, and Belle didn’t know if Nosty met his eyes or not. “I didn’t see his worth, because I closed my eyes and refused to look.”
Belle understood now why Joseph had decided to orate for a living. He held the room captive.
“There’s nothing left for me to say here, in public, except I’m sorry, and I hope he’ll give me the opportunity to apologize in person.
“I know we always stress that you’ve got to confess and repent, say your Hail Marys, reaffirm your relationship with God, but remember that we live on this earth now, and sometimes, the most important thing is to repent to and forgive one another.” He turned his page over and clasped his hands over it. “Thank you. Please join me at the altar if you’d like to take communion.”
Nosty stood with everyone else, and Belle thought he meant to take communion even though they weren’t Catholic, but then he stormed out of the sanctuary, letting the doors close behind him. 
She didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, everyone had already turned to stare, so it was likely they had all connected the dots, but on the other, Belle didn’t need any additional attention on them.
But Nosty needed her. She stood, locking eyes with Joseph and flashing him a tentative smile, and then hurried out.
Nosty sat on a bench, elbows on his thighs and hands in his hair, staring at the grass.
“Nosty?”
He didn’t speak, but he shifted to give her room to sit down. Tentative, she laid a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t flinch.
“Do you want to leave?” she asked.
It was as if she wasn’t even there. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge that anything was going on around him. Maybe to him, it wasn’t.
“Nosty?”
Finally, slowly, like he was clawing his way back to reality, he turned to her. “I can’t.” 
She rubbed his back, but he didn’t relax. “You can’t?”
Without warning, he shot to his feet and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I have to get out of here.” His head whipped from side to side, and then he stomped toward the park, pausing a few meters away before turning around.
Belle stood. “I’ll come with you.”
“No.” He shook his head and halved the distance between them. “I just—I need some air. You go in. If you want. I can’t face him yet. I—”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes, but she could tell he was holding himself together for her benefit alone, so she waited. 
“I have my phone,” he said finally. “So if I’m not back—” He kicked the grass with the toe of his boot. 
“I can still reach you,” she supplied. He glanced up at her, and she thought he might have looked relieved, but she could have invented that because he was gone before she could say anything more.
Belle plopped back onto the bench, not sure what to do. No one had left yet, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to face Joseph either. She’d thought so many awful things about him since yesterday, and even if he didn’t know—and even if they were warranted—she was still embarrassed. 
The doors opened and a group of people left, but Belle was too unfocused to see if she should be saying goodbye to anyone. After the second wave of exits, she stood again.
She could go inside. She was brave enough to face Joseph. And what was the worst that could happen? She’d have an awkward conversation? 
She could survive an awkward conversation. 
Steeling herself, she pushed the doors open and strode inside. A couple people hung about chatting with one another in the pews, and Joseph was busy moving things around at the pulpit.
Even though no one actually paid attention to her, she felt like all eyes were on her as she strode down the aisle toward Joseph. She paused before him and it took almost half a minute for him to look up and freeze.
“Belle.” His voice was hoarse. 
“Hi.”
“I thought you’d left.” He straightened up, gripping his sermon notes like a shield.
“I didn’t.” She wished she had pockets or something to do with her hands other than twist them behind her back. 
“Do you—” He swallowed. “Tea?”
“No, thank you.” It would be too much to sit in the kitchen and wait for tea to brew and then be beholden to however long it took to drink it. 
“Right.” He glanced down at his sermon.
“But we can talk upstairs.”
His wounded dog face didn’t make her as angry as it had on Friday, but then, it didn’t look so pathetic today. 
They walked up the stairs in silence, Belle clutching her phone in case Nosty called, and once they made it to the rectory, Joseph stopped and turned around.
“Have a seat?” He gestured weakly to the couch, but Belle did not feel comfortable enough to have this conversation on the couch. This was too serious.
“How about the kitchen table?”
He winced, but nodded, leading her that way without comment. She licked her dry lips—was she about to find an empty booze bottle?
“Careful,” Joseph said, skirting something just inside the door, and then she was grateful for the warning because instead of an empty bottle, it was a shattered bottle, with whatever the contents were now stuck to the floor in a sticky, congealed puddle littered with broken glass and the remnants of a mug.
Belle knelt to lift the handle off the floor, the only piece still intact. She didn’t recognize it, so she set it back down and then sat at the table.
Joseph removed his robes and hung them on the back of a chair before joining her, head ducked to look at his hands in his lap.
Belle almost wanted to throw him a bone, break the silence first, but she didn’t know what to say. He’d surprised her by apologizing to Nosty, and it didn’t sound like pretty words meant to manipulate her, but she still didn’t know what Nosty thought. And she still wasn’t sure she forgave him.
“Where’d he go?” Joseph asked. 
Anger flared hot in Belle’s chest. “Are you concerned about him, or do you want him to absolve you of guilt?”
Joseph flinched. “I just don’t know what else to say.”
She picked at one of her nails, vowing to treat herself to a manicure as soon as possible. She deserved it. “He’ll be back soon.” 
“I’m glad you found him.”
“Are you?”
He looked up at her, and she met his eyes, expecting him to cower again. When he didn’t, a tiny bit of anger left her. “Belle, I’m—” He shook his head. “I don’t have anything to say other than ‘I’m sorry,’ and I don’t think you want to hear that anymore.”
She chipped off a triangle of polish. “I’m open to an apology.”
“Then Belle, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 
She was glad they had a whole table between them so that she couldn’t reflexively reach to comfort him. Let him stew. 
“Why?” she asked. “Why did you hate him so much?”
He rubbed the side of his arm, reaching for his pocket again. “I was convinced he’d hurt you again.”
Belle shook her head. “That’s just an excuse, and I don’t believe you.”
“Well, you didn’t seem worried about it at all!” he said. “Someone had to be.”
“Of course I was worried about it!” Belle rubbed her forehead. Where was Nosty anyway? “I just didn’t say anything because I knew you would make a big deal of it, and besides, it’s my choice whether I trust him or not, not yours.”
“Belle, I—”
“No!” She stood, and then immediately plopped back down, afraid of slipping on more spilled booze. If Nosty had to come scrape her off the floor, Joseph might not make it out alive. “You didn’t think I knew what I wanted.”
“Do you remember what it was like when he left the first time?” Joseph asked. “Because I do. I didn’t want that to happen again!”
“Of course I remember.” The tears sprung to her eyes without her permission, and she swiped them away. “That’s why we were taking it slow, figuring things out.”
“Yeah?” He looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be angry or sick. “And how long did you spend looking for him on Friday?”
“How long?” she asked, glad that his hard look never turned smug. “I didn’t look for him at all. He was waiting for me at the solicitor’s office, just like he promised he would be.”
Joseph’s eyes widened like she’d punched him in the gut, and his lap was suddenly intriguing. Belle crossed her arms. She could wait all day for Joseph to digest that little factoid—or, at least, she could wait until she heard back from Nosty. 
“I’m glad,” he said as though she’d pulled the words from him by force.
“You know what?” She stood, and this time, she pushed her chair back in. “This was a mistake. I’m going to get his things.”
“No, wait!” He leapt up and grabbed her sleeve. She didn’t move. “I really am glad. I just—I feel stupid. That’s all.”
She calmed a fraction but didn’t move to sit. “You were stupid.”
“I was jealous.”
When she looked up at him, she expected him to be watching his hand on her sleeve or the wall or the ceiling, but he stared straight at her. 
“That’s not fair to me,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to be with you, and even if I did, I couldn’t be. You’d be dooming me to a life of loneliness.”
“I know.” He dropped his hand. “I’ve just—I’ve never questioned my calling, but I wanted to. I wanted to be the most important person to you, even if we couldn’t be together.”
“Joseph, you are very important to me,” she said. “But you chose this life. I didn’t. I’m not a nun.”
“I told myself I was just protecting you,” Joseph said. “I believed it.” 
Slowly, she sat back down, and Joseph let go. They sat in not uncomfortable silence for at least a minute before Belle put her hand on the table. She didn’t want him to take it or touch it, but she wanted to at least show that she wasn’t holding herself taut anymore. A tentative peace offering.
“If Nosty decides he doesn’t want to see you again, then we won’t,” she said. “It’s not my place to offer forgiveness.”
Joseph swallowed and nodded. “Do you think he will?” 
Belle shrugged. “I don’t know.”
They sat in silence again, Belle staring at the sticky mess on the wall. She would not clean it; she would not tidy or fix or straighten. 
“I want to make amends,” Joseph said. “I know I fucked up. Badly. He deserved so much more than I gave him.” 
Belle couldn’t respond. She thought Nosty deserved the whole world, but she was biased. 
“If he’ll let me, I’ll work to earn his trust again, just like he worked to earn yours.”
“I hope not exactly the same way,” she said, and when Joseph frowned in confusion, she let slip a tiny grin. He laughed, then jumped in surprise at the sound.
“Well, if that’s what he’d prefer,” he said, and she laughed too. 
“I want to pick up some of his things,” she said. “I don’t know when exactly we’ll be back here.”
Good humor dissipating as quickly as it had arrived, Joseph nodded. “Of course. I’ll—I’ll leave you to it.”
Belle stood for the umpteenth time and Joseph did not join her this time. She eyed the spill. “Are there any more hazards I should know about?” 
“No. And—” Joseph rapped his fingers on the table. 
“And?”
“I didn’t drink. I was going to, but I stopped myself. I just thought you should know.”
Even though she was mad, and even though her vision of him had suffered, that did make her happy. “Good.” She smiled at him. “I’m glad.”
****
Nosty stayed radio silent and gone for forty minutes before he texted Belle that he’d meet her at home—home!—and then she waited for him with a pot of hot coffee and sandwiches from the place around the corner for another two hours. 
He came in panting and sweaty, kissed her on the cheek, and went straight for the shower. She was dying to know what was going through his head, but all she could really ask of him was not to disappear without warning, and he hadn’t, so she was trapped.
When he emerged in a t-shirt and pajama pants, he finally sat for the first time, across from her at the kitchen table.
“Hey,” he said as though he hadn’t had what she could only assume was a three hour mental breakdown.
“Hi.” She reached across the table for him and he took her hand.
“Thanks for bringing me more clothes.” 
“Of course.” She squeezed his. “Are you okay?”
“Got the shrink tomorrow,” he said.
It wasn’t an answer, but she thought she understood what he was trying to say. She squeezed his hand again then stood to retrieve the sandwiches.
“That’ll be good. Are you hungry?” 
He nodded, then poured himself a coffee while she found napkins and plates and set them out. They ate in silence for awhile, and though Belle was dying to ask him a thousand questions, it wasn’t an awkward silence. Nosty inhaled his food, presumably hungry from walking all the way from the church, and Belle wasn’t too far behind since she’d just been sitting here for two hours, waiting to eat it.
“Belle?” 
“Hmm?” 
“Thanks.” He crumpled up his sandwich paper and tossed it toward the bin, standing when it pinged off the rim.
“For lunch?” she asked, crumpling up her own. “Of course.”
“Well, that too.” He busied himself with throwing away both papers. “But I mean, for letting me go. And trusting I would come back.”
She crept up behind him, though she knew he could hear her anyway, and wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his back. 
“I have no reason not to trust you, Nosty,” she said. “You haven’t given me one.”
He turned in her arms and wrapped his own around her. “And I won’t,” he said, quietly. “I promise.”
****
Maybe her heart trusted Nosty, but her anxiety still remembered what it was like kissing him before work and expecting him back at lunch time only to have him disappear. She tried to ignore that when he kissed her goodbye at the car with a promise to return for a late lunch after his appointment. 
“And don’t forget,” he said, hands cupping her face and fingers tangled in her hair, a much more thorough kiss goodbye than made her comfortable—like he planned to leave for a long time. “You promised you’d teach me how to use the computer.”
“I won’t forget.” She kissed him, unable to hold his elbows because she was holding the lunchbox she’d packed for them, which did include a sneaky extra sandwich for Kaz just in case. “Have a good session.”
He kissed her once more and then he was off. She didn’t even know where the office was, but he had a few hours to kill, and now that he had a roof over his head at night, he liked to spend time outside instead of cooped up in the library. 
Belle sat at her desk for most of the morning, alternating shopping online for things she couldn’t buy and shopping for new books for the library. They hadn’t talked at all about Joseph yesterday, and she hoped he would say something after therapy, but what if he didn’t? Would they just live in this weird limbo, and she’d have to go back to the church to get the rest of his things and then leave forever?
Kaz showing up was a welcome distraction, and Belle invented a craft that desperately needed to be done so the two of them sat at a table and made friendship bracelets for an undefined group of kids. It didn’t take Kaz long to get the hang of it, and soon they were working in focused silence.
Around one, Belle reminded herself that Nosty had promised to come back. She wasn’t even exactly sure when his appointment was, so she didn’t even know if he was late. 
At two, they had a pile of bracelets that Belle needed a purpose for, and Kaz was making herself a lunch from the snack cart. Belle alternated between reminding herself that she trusted Nosty and berating herself for doubting him. 
Then, at 2:27, Nosty swaggered through the doors, and she could have wept. 
“Nosty!” Kaz said.
“Hey,” he said, then grabbed Belle’s cheeks and planted a kiss on her that left her dizzy. 
Kaz wolf-whistled, a gleeful look on her face as Belle blushed like a schoolgirl. “Thought you didn’t have a fellow?”
“Well—”
“She does now.” Nosty kissed her again, then swept off to her office, leaving her to press her fingers to her lips. 
“So I guess you really aren’t scared of him,” Kaz said, still grinning like she’d just learned the juiciest secret. “I knew he fancied you.”
“I’ll be right back.” Belle stood and almost knocked over her chair. “Are you hungry? I’ll be right back.”
“You said already.” 
Belle fled to Kaz’s snickering, joining Nosty in her office where he was sitting on her desk, setting out food at their respective seats. He held up the third sandwich when she walked in.
“Feeding more strays?” He jerked his chin toward the door.
“You have to stop talking like that,” Belle said. “None of you are animals.”
“Old habits.” He kissed her again, and though he was always affectionate, the PDA surprised her. “I’ll give it to her.” 
He slipped out, and she plopped into her chair, pressing her hands to her flushed face. The elation at his return filled her like a balloon, and she could have floated away. 
It took a little longer for him to give Kaz a sandwich than she expected, so she hoped he was being nice, but when he returned, he was still in good spirits. She’d never seen him so happy after therapy.
“What has gotten into you?” she asked. 
He shrugged, swallowing a giant bite of sandwich. “I missed you. Happy to see you.” 
“You’ve been with me all weekend.”
“I always have to go back to the church after I see the shrink, don’t I? Never get to see you right away.” He shrugged again. “It’s nice.”
It had hurt so badly when Nosty left her all those weeks ago, but would that Nosty have ever gotten to the point where he would say something like that to her? For that matter, would he have ever agreed to therapy? Would Belle have even suggested it? Kathryn was a miracle worker.
“So, is there anything you want to talk about?” Belle popped a grape in her mouth, raising an eyebrow.
Nosty shook his head. “Will you take me to the church after work?” 
Was this what whiplash was like? “Of course. Are we just—getting your stuff?”
He studied a grape in his hand, picking at the skin, and then shook his head. “I want to talk to Joseph.”
Progress. “Do you want to talk to me about anything first?”
He glanced at her, then back at his grape. “Will you be mad if I say no?”
She didn’t know what to feel, but “mad” certainly wasn’t it. “No. You don’t have to talk to me about this, but I’m here if you need something.”
He finally popped the grape in his mouth and stood. “I need you to teach me about computers.”
She had been mulling over how she planned to do this all day, since growing up with computers meant that it was so ingrained within her, she couldn’t even begin to know where to start. She decided on a typing course, since almost everything Nosty wanted to do would require him to use a keyboard, and it was probably the easiest transition from his cell phone.
Much to her surprise, Kaz wanted to be set up at a computer next to him, so she loaded the typing program she remembered from her childhood on both machines and set them to work, Nosty with his brow furrowed in concentration and Kaz with childlike delight. She probably didn’t need the typing course, Belle realized. She had to have been at least ten years younger than the two of them, and it was likely she’d actually learned to use computers in school. 
“Let me know if you need anything,” Belle said, resting a hand on Nosty’s shoulder when he turned a panicky look on her. 
“What if it breaks?” he asked. 
“It won’t break. And if it does, I’m right there.” He nodded, and after a glance at Kaz already absorbed into her typing games, turned to his screen.
From her desk, she was close enough to see when Nosty’s shoulder’s tensed, when they relaxed, when he desperately searched for a key, and a well of pride filled her. She had never seen Nosty set himself to a task that he wasn’t already good at, but she could imagine that the Nosty of a few months ago would have stormed off if he hadn’t gotten the hang of typing immediately. Now, his shoulders would roll and he would stretch his neck, but he kept doggedly on, and she even felt bad when she had to tear them both from the screens to close the library. 
Nosty wandered off to have a cigarette while Belle locked up, and then Kaz appeared at her elbow.
“Belle?”
She pressed a hand to her racing heart. Somehow, having Nosty around had made her even less observant. “What’s up?” 
“You’ll be careful?” 
They both looked toward Nosty, smoking and pacing by the car, and Belle couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips.
“I’ll be careful.” 
****
It wasn’t until they’d pulled into the parking lot that Belle realized she should give Joseph a heads up they were coming, so she sent him a text and they resolved to wait in the car at least until he responded. Nosty ran a hand through his hair and squeezed his locks into their usual ponytail, clutching it like a security blanket.
“Should I be getting the rest of your things while you talk to Joseph?” Belle asked. She hadn’t managed to pry any information out of him the whole drive, but this seemed a safe, logical question.
“Don’t think so.” He stared at the church door. So he didn’t plan to cut Joseph off.
“Do you want me there for it?” 
He licked his lips, then nodded. “If I get—upset—you take over. Just until I’m meself again.”
“Of course.” What a lovely thought that Nosty didn’t consider being upset his normal anymore. 
Her phone buzzed with Joseph’s response and Nosty paled, gripping his ponytail tight.
“We don’t have to go in yet,” Belle said. “I don’t know if he knows we’re literally outside.”
He shook his head. “No, let’s get this over with.”
She didn’t know if he’d want to be touched on the endless walk from car to church door, but she smiled when he grabbed her hand, lacing his finger through hers.
 Unsurprisingly, Joseph opened the doors just as they were walking up. Beside her, Nosty drew himself up, and Joseph swallowed.
“You came,” he said.
Nosty said nothing.
“We did,” Belle said. 
Joseph watched Nosty, but when it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything, turned to Belle. “Come in. I made coffee.”
It had never felt too inconvenient that they had to walk through the atrium and the sanctuary to even get to the staircase that led to the rectory, but now they all trudged back in silence like they were headed to an execution. Joseph led them up the stairs, and Belle kept between him and Nosty, and then they continued their march across the sitting room and through to the kitchen, where Joseph had cleaned up the broken glass and spilled alcohol.
“Have a seat.” He gestured to the table, so Belle, wishing that anything she did could make this situation less awkward, took the first seat.
Nosty stood next to her, arms folded, while Joseph brought three mugs, the carton of creamer, and sugar to the table, then poured the coffee. Belle took a mug and then pushed one toward Nosty, but he didn’t move until Joseph was seated with his own mug. Then, he sat, but he did not reach for the cream or sugar. Should she add it to his coffee? Did he even know he had a coffee?
Joseph took a sip from his mug, then winced, presumably burning his tongue. Belle poured cream into hers. Nosty continued to stare, only moving to bring the sugar closer to Belle when she reached for it. 
“Someone say something,” Belle said because she could not take it anymore. 
“Nosty,” Joseph said. “I’m sorry.”
Nosty said nothing, tapping his knee rhythmically under the table. Joseph glanced at Belle, but she didn’t know if this counted as a moment that Nosty wanted her to take over, so she didn’t speak.
“I treated you badly,” Joseph went on. “I didn’t respect you. You deserved my respect.” 
“Yeah,” Nosty said. “Okay.” 
Belle would never take back her friendship and love for either man, but sitting here at this table between the two of them, she was considering wishing they’d all never met so that she’d never have to sit in this palpable tension. 
“Okay?”
“Yeah.” Nosty tapped his foot. “I mean, not okay. It’s not. Okay.” 
Belle reached for his knee under the table and he closed his hand around hers. 
“Okay,” Joseph said.
“I talked it over,” Nosty said. “And I don’t forgive you.” 
Belle had a moment of panic, a small flash of concern that Nosty had actually come here to commit violence, and Joseph’s crestfallen face was no help.
“Right,” Joseph said.
“Stop looking at me.” Nosty tapped his free hand still, staring now into his black coffee. 
“What?”
“Just turn around,” Belle said, having some experience with Nosty’s preference of talking to walls. “I’ll turn too, okay?”
Nosty nodded, and Joseph, though he clearly didn’t know what to make of it, faced the fridge. Belle, wanting to keep an eye on Joseph, just turned so that she could no longer see Nosty. She felt him let out a breath.
“I don’t have to forgive you yet,” Nosty said, as though he was going to refer them to his therapist should either of them argue. “But I accept your apology. And—and I’m sorry for—hitting you with a spoon.”
Belle pressed her lips together to squash her surprised laugh. Hitting him with a spoon?
“I deserved to be hit with a spoon,” Joseph said. 
It was very difficult, after that, to hold in her laughter, but she managed.
“I have some conditions,” Nosty said. “You can turn back.”
She and Joseph shifted around, and he did not look anywhere near as amused about the spoon thing as she did, so she resolved never to bring it up. Whatever it meant was in the past.
“Okay,” Joseph said. “I’m listening.”
“First, I want you to do something for homeless people,” Nosty said. 
Joseph’s eyes widened. “Something like—what?”
“I don’t know. You’ve got all these empty rooms.” He gestured around. “People are sleeping on the streets.”
“Nosty, I can’t just have strangers sleeping here all the time,” he said. “It’s not set up for that.”
Nosty turned to Belle, eyes pleading.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to just have strangers sleeping in your home,” Belle agreed. “But maybe you can host a soup kitchen once a week? And raise money for shelters?” 
“And take Kaz in,” Nosty added. “She’s not dangerous.”
“Okay,” Joseph said, though he looked a little pale behind his collarino. “You both have to be here for the first few nights she is, then.”
Nosty glanced at Belle for approval, then nodded. 
“So what’s second?” Joseph asked.
“You have to see a therapist.”
Belle should not have been present for this. If someone made one more face like the one Joseph was making now or one more reference to hitting people with spoons, she was going to laugh and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. 
“A therapist?” 
“Aye.” Nosty folded his arms.
“But I’m a priest.”
“And who’s more fucking repressed than a priest, hey?” 
Joseph looked to Belle like she might help him, but all she did was shrug. A therapist was a great idea as far as she was concerned.
“Fine. Give me your therapist’s number.”
Nosty scoffed. “You can’t see my shrink. Get your own.”
“I’ll help you find one,” Belle said before Joseph could protest. 
He sighed. “Okay. Fine. I will find a therapist. Is that all?”
Nosty shook his head. “Just one more thing.” 
Was Joseph starting to regret apologizing? He was eyeing Nosty like he was afraid of having a mug thrown at him. “What is it?”
“You have to cut your hair off with me.”
Joseph’s mouth fell open. “What? That’s—that’s just—that doesn’t have anything to do with anything.”
“Actually,” Belle said, because now that Nosty had said it, she felt that a haircut was a fitting punishment. “It would be a lovely gesture of solidarity. Nosty is getting a haircut for his court date.”
Joseph looked between the two of them, while Nosty folded his arms a little more smugly than Belle found appropriate. When neither of them budged, he sighed.
“Fine. Okay. I guess I’m supposed to—to reject vanity. So I’ll cut my hair off.”
“It’ll grow back,” Nosty said. 
“It will.” He took a sip of his coffee and winced again, probably because it was cold this time. “And then we’re back? All of us? Together?”
“Is that what you want?” Nosty asked. “All of us? Or just Belle?”
Joseph rubbed his finger along the mug handle, and Belle’s heart sank. After all this, after yesterday and Friday, after Nosty’s therapy, was Joseph going to throw it all away?
“Obviously, Belle is very important to me,” Joseph said to his coffee. “I suppose it’s also obvious that I behaved the way I did out of less than noble motives. And I have to admit that I’m not thrilled about sharing her, but I suppose that is something I’ll need to work on in—” He swallowed. “—therapy.”
“We’re together,” Nosty said, then glanced at Belle for approval.
“A package deal,” she said.
“I know,” Joseph said. “And I want the whole package.”
No one spoke for a minute, then Nosty thrust a hand across the table. Joseph shook it.
“Maybe we’ll actually be friends someday,” Joseph said.
“We’ll see,” Nosty said.
“I believe in both of you,” Belle said, and neither of them scoffed. She smiled, letting her shoulders relax. Things were finally looking up.
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the-heaminator · 1 year
Text
Both actually succeeded in waking up before the time that they would be late in the morning, Arthur felt like shit, he needed his coffee, whatever that was last night had seemingly passed, he collected the forms, and filled a couple out when he got the time, changed and sped off to the closest coffee place, his order was a little concerning "As many shots of espresso as fill a large cup, and nothing else."
It frankly just tasted like coffee, he put a fuck ton of sugar into it, before he had to be off again, drinking it on the go, he felt better after that, not exactly calmer but more focused, he clocked in and found Ivan, it wasn't hard, he was usually in one of two places, the mechanics and engineering area or staring out of the exact same window, this time he was doing the latter, he rocked up looking more than a bit feral, Ivan wrinkled his nose, not in distaste, but because Arthur was a bit whiffy and smelled like truly unreasonable amounts of coffee.
Arthur opened his mouth to say something that he later forgot because he was cut off by Ivan saying "You smell like the devil's ballsack, Jesus fucking Christ."
"That was a nice greeting Ivan." Oh, he was definitely on too much caffeine, he was speaking a good bit faster than he normally was, the sarcasm was almost lost on him because of the speed but he just about managed to grab it.
"You do though, how much coffee did you drink? We don't want to scare off the estate agents."
"Just a cup, and what do we have to do with those leeches?"
"Don't you remember, we have the house viewing today?"
"Eh?" he thought for a moment, Ivan could see the cogs in his mind slowly turning "Fuck i forgot about that!"
"Don't worry, I have everything signed and all, you signed it the night before, we are in the clear, but my point still stands. You smell like the devil's ballsack."
"How would you know how that smells eh?"
"Experience."
You cannot frankly say anything to that, so Arthur didn't, Ivan took a bottle (canister?) of bodyspray out of one of numerous pockets, Arthur didn't question why he carried that, it had a lot of practical uses, to disguise a scent, to lead someone off a trail, to use it as a makeshift flamethrower, and also apparently to choke someone rather effectively at that "What the fuck was that for!"
His lungs did not like that at all, and he stood there coughing and spluttering for a while, Ivan grinned, toothy, he was frankly about to lose his shit but he didn't "See, better, you smell like a human, whether you look like one is debatable but we can work on that, now come, the viewing is in a few hours, we have to get the children, and I checked, the bus ride is like 2 hours long."
Arthur was not looking forward to that in the slightest, frankly, neither was Ivan, long bus rides were the spawn of satan honestly, Arthur coughed a little more up before choking out 14 different curses but followed Ivan to the children's room, Ivan gently rapped the door, it was still early and it was doubtful that all of them would be awake, and true to fashion, only Matthew came to answer the door, he looked tired like he had just woken up, he squinted up at Ivan "What do you want?"
"Did we not tell you that the house viewing would be today?" Both knew they didn't, they were supposed to have done this yesterday but were busy doing whatever it was that went down in their minds, so did not get the time to fulfil that, Matthew yawned "I have no memory of this, and it's too early, come back in a couple of hours, everyone is going to be cranky."
Arthur spoke, Matthew wrinkled his nose, he smelt like too much bodyspray and too much coffee, when he opened his mouth "About that, apparently the viewing is in a couple hours and the bus drive there is 2 hours."
Matthew groaned, "Can't either of you drive?" he did not very much want a 2-hour bus ride, he had had a couple of them before and they were always so mind-numbingly boring.
"Not legally, I'm half blind and he's half deaf and apparently that means we can't drive without getting that fixed and a specific driving test, so unfortunately not."
Alfred grumbled and shifted under the blankets, looked blearily at the door, and mumbled "Whadda fuck?" before shambling up looking a bit like a cryptid with how he had grabbed the blankets around him, it was a little funny to see, the humour was lost on Arthur at the moment though, a bit too antsy to get what needed to be done done.
Ivan didn't exactly hear what Alfred said, but he could figure it out "House viewing, we need to go soon."
"'s too early."
"What?"
"It's too early!"
"It's only 8?"
"Too early!
Arthur spoke, "We need to wake up Jack and Eleanor too, they are easy enough to wake up are they not?"
Alfred yawned, well, he was now awake, against his will, but he was awake, he gave a long shuddering yawn "Y-y-yeah, Matt's the only one that sleeps like the dead, and you smell bad enough that they'd wake up as soon as you got near them."
Arthur frowned, he would take more personal offence to those words if his head was working properly, still a little fuzzy from whatever yesterday was "A little mean of you to say that, completely uncalled for." He did sound a tad detached, as he almost floated into the room to wake up the other two, Jack buried himself deeper into the blanket when his head was uncovered, Arthur prodded him a little, then shook him, the final act did get him somewhere "Mgf? Who're you?"
He waited for Jack to recalibrate, blink the sleep out of his eyes "Oh, it's you, what do you want?"
"You have to get up," he wasn't even looking at Jack, more like looking through him.
"Whyyyy? it's too early."
"No it's not, get up."
There was significantly less tenderness there, he moved to wake Eleanor, who didn't actually need to be awoken, she woke up on her own pretty early anyways, and there were too many people speaking for her to speak for much longer, and Alfred was speaking loudly, presumably to get Ivan to hear what on earth it was that he was saying, frankly he was loud as it was, Matthew more needed to speak loud out of intent.
 "Good, so you are awake as it is."
Her voice was still heavy with sleep "You said someth-" punctuated by a huge yawn "-ing about a house looking?"
"House viewing."
"No difference."
She had a point there, he needed to stop being pedantic "Anyways, get up, all of you get ready."
Ivan properly stepped inside, the door closed, Alfred and Matthew busied themselves with getting themselves and then the younger ones ready, it was always a bit of work to wrestle Eleanor into anything that looked halfway presentable, she had like 3 dresses for such instances, and she hated every single one of them, the one she hated the least was a dark red frock that had little birds embroidered onto it, but it was itchy, apparently no one ever had the idea of making her wear a white shirt underneath that to stop it from itching.
Ivan came up with that idea, Alfred facepalmed, that made so much sense, she changed, and looked considerably happier now that she was no longer itchy, she still didn't like wearing dresses but this was a considerable improvement, Jack very much could dress himself, he just looked like he came out of a bush at all times, Arthur practically had to wrestle him, something he was pretty good at all things considered, to get him to sit down for a moment to do his hair.#
Much like Arthur's, it refused to be styled or even to sit still for a moment, but he did find more leaves than should be found in the hair of any one child "Christ alive when was the last time you washed your hair?"
"Two days ago, why?"
"You have 3 different types of leaves in your hair, how on earth did you go about doing that?"
"I was looking for frogs."
Arthur clucked his tongue "You're not going to find frogs in this weather, they come out when it is warm and damp, they'll be looking to breed in the spring and summer, you're not finding frogs in February."
He turned to look at Arthur "Cool! so I can go looking for frogs in the summer then!"
"Turn around and stop moving."
Jack almost growled but stayed still, Arthur did something, and his hair was mostly in one place, Matthew was in awe "How did you do that? His hair never stays still!"
"Neither does mine, the same thing applies to his hair."
Alfred did his own hair, and Matthew did his own too, Matthew had nice hair, it was almost strawberry blonde, like 2 shades away from being ginger, Alfred's was the colour of ready-to-harvest wheat, Jack's was a very dark brown, Eleanor's was almost black, Ivan was braiding it, Matthew could do loose braids but she always found a way to make them look a mess.
"I didn't know you could braid hair?"
"I had sisters, I always did my younger sister's hair, I'm good at it."
How Ivan still had the muscle memory for it was beyond Arthur, before he realised he often braided rope to make it stronger, that makes sense, he was heavy too, the same cable that would support his weight would not do that for Ivam, practical too, he felt a bit foolish now that he thought about it.
She had very nice hair, long and silky, and very heavy, if he did one braid it could very easily be used as a weapon if a heavy elastic was put at the bottom, he did two to prevent it being used on him, and also she looked considerably better with two.
"Done, do you like your hair?"
She looked in the mirror, and poked the braids, "Yes, they are very strong, Matthew usually does them too loose."
"Matthew come here, let me show you. He pulled out a length of cord from yet another pocket, Matthew didn't question why he had that on him, spy things probably, knotted it on the top and showed him that he had to keep each strand pulled before looping over the other, so on and so forth, he got it pretty fast actually.
Arthur had been standing awkwardly in the corner, he had his briefcase in hand staring out of the window "We should probably leave now, I don't know how long the bus will take if any delays are involved."
Alfred got up, Eleanor grabbed a notepad and a pen, she would not let it be taken from her, and she had this odd little pink calculator that she carried with her everywhere for some unfathomable reason, that was in her dress pocket, at least she wouldn't be too bored n the bus ride, Jack got away with taking a little...well no one was exactly sure about what that was, it was an odd little fiddly thing that could be taken apart and be put back together in numerous different ways.
Alfred and Matthew were too old for something of that sort, they had the agency-provided phones, cellphones to be that, anything else could very easily be tracked without very specific protection, and they were children so the fancy equipment wasn't given to them.
The phones that Arthur and Ivan had were considerably nicer, but there was next to nothing downloaded on them, there were so many passwords everywhere, they carried around phones similar to Alfred and Matthew's for general calls because the agency-provided ones were difficult, Ivan could work them, he was quite good with technology, but been to him they were a bit too much hassle, and Arthur was frankly a bit shit with technology so that really did not help his case.
Well guess they would just have to be bored.
When leaving, the security looked at them oddly, she was used to seeing those two go on missions by themselves, but there had been word on the grapevine that they were either being retired or relegated as informants, what she didn't know that the cover required 4 children and them to be married, she could see the wedding bands, Ivan forced himself to look serious, Erze loved teasing the everloving shit out of him, Lovino hadn't yet worked up the courage to do so, he was a mostly new recruit, and both Ivan and Arthur scared him, "So where are you six going?"
"House viewing." Both her eyebrows raised enough they almost disappeared into her hair "Christ so the rumours were true. Are you actually being retired?"
"By Mary no, not yet at least, we got relegated to information, which is...less than ideal, but we can't do anything about it anymore, so oh well."
"Well, you two have been getting quite old, it was probably a long time coming. A really long time coming"
The children just decided to listen and not say anything, everyone but Jack understood that intuitively, he had to be told because he was never the greatest at reading the room, the conversation continued "We aren't that old."
"Both of you were born in the mid 70's no? And almost everyone I've seen retired was like 30 max. You both are nearly 50, relatively speaking, yea you're fucking old now, and Francis, did you hear he was put into admin, I think they were doing a clear-out or something."
Arthur made a face "You aren't that young anymore Erze either." Arthur would file that information about Francis away for later
"Hey, I just turned 33. You've still got a decade and a half on me."
Jack was fighting not to explode, as was Alfred, Jack made a sound that sounded awfully like a balloon being deflated, this was just odd to watch, the lady, Erze, liked them quite a bit "And so these four are meant to be your undercover? Isn't being married not enough."
Arthur froze, fuck they had forgotten to take off the rings, it felt nice on his finger, so much so that he immediately forgot it was there "Yes, Yao said it was because they needed somewhere to go, and it isn't frankly safe for them to stay here for too long."
"He has a lot more faith in your parenting abilities than I would say is a particularly good idea, but I mean, they're pretty sensible and you've managed to keep yourselves alive for the past 50ish years, so I mean, it can't go too bad, now shoo, go to wherever you needed to go."
She let them through, smiled softly at Eleanor, who really did like her, she took that as a compliment because Eleanor didn't like a lot of people, and then went back to her work, Lovino looked at her oddly "You're 33?"
"Mind your next words very carefully."
That shut him up, anything he could say could be taken in a bad way and well, she was strong, she was sometimes used as an operative, for good reason, and in physical training, she could snap him in half with her bare hands, so shutting up was the best thing he could do.
The little chitchat over there had saved them a bit, they only had to wait a couple of minutes for the bus, it was a Saturday, so there were no children in the bus, and they were making good time, Alfred and Matthew sped up to the second decker of the bus, Ivan hit his head on the roof of the bus more than once, he had to hunch quite a lot to avoid it, the bus was practically empty so Jack and Eleanor took the front seats in front of the big window and pretended to drive the bus, because of course they did.
To be fair that entertained the both of them for a good while, it was a clear day, cold but clear, Alfred fell asleep rather quickly on Matthew's shoulder, he should have actually gone to sleep at a decent time last night, but no, he fell asleep at like 3 am, tinkering about when he really shouldn't have been, he was tired as all fuck, he was not used to operating on 5 hours of sleep at all.
Matthew saw that coming but Alfred was heavy, and he was hungry, they hadn't had breakfast in their hurry to leave, he looked behind him, he could see Ivan staring off into space so hard he almost went cross-eyed, Arthur was reading the information about the house quickly, or at least he was trying, some of the fine print, actually all of the fine print, he couldn't read, he sheepishly asked Matthew to read it, he knew about half the words in the more monetary side of things, but everything else considered this actually sounded like a pretty nice place, 3 bedroom, living room, garden, near the sea, this seemed nice.
He handed the papers back to Arthur, Ivan had fallen asleep momentarily, Arthur jabbed him in where he thought his ribs were, he couldn't feel the ribs very well, but it woke Ivan up, he had only lightly dozed off and looked affronted at this manner of waking him up, but he was right, this was not the place to sleep, and he had gotten plenty of sleep over the past couple days, this was not the time.
Jack had finally bored from looking out the window, started fiddling with his little thingamabob, Eleanor was trying to draw something, she couldn't draw very well but she had drawn so many birds over time that yea she knew how to draw a crow from memory, in a very childish style of course, but reflecting of the style of old anatomical prints that she found in the library corners that had clearly not been looked at in so long, she liked tracing animals.
She did hate drawing feathers though, it looked considerably wonkier than usual due to being in a moving vehicle, it consumed a lot of her time, Jack stopped fiddling and watched her draw for a while, it was always nice to see, very few people got on the bus, maybe like 3 more people come onto the top deck, 2 of them disembarked, Ivan was growing suspicious of the one that stayed, but he got off a good couple stops before they needed to, so it was unlikely that they were being tailed. Good.
Alfred hadn't woken up once, Arthur was a little worried about him, the floatiness from earlier had mostly dissipated, good thing that was, he could not afford to be woozy in a time like this, there were other people around him for Christ's sake, this wasn't just about him and Ivan anymore.
They disembarked, Ivan hit his head hard again, cursed a lot of things, and Jack whined that he was hungry, Eleanor needed to piss, Alfred was not entirely present, still half asleep, and Matthew was also hungry, Ivan too, this was not going particularly well.
But they made it in good time, the house in question, 17 Priglestone Close, bit of an odd name, but it could be worse frankly, it wasn't even a proper estate agent, some other informant lived here before a while ago, the "estate agent" just so happened to be nobody but Antonio, massive gossiper of a man he was, but he could pull off the energy of an estate agent very well, oh this is going to send rumours all through the fucking agency wasn't it.
He looked genuinely surprised that they did actually show up, somehow he felt like this was a whole practical joke or something, It was beyond difficult to imagine those two settling down, they had been a staple in most high-stakes missions ever since Antonio had been there, and likely for a good long time before that, Christ they were actually getting relegated, he was not prepared for that.
Less was he prepared for the children to actually be there, so this was actually happening huh?
He was always a little scared of those two, they were always so good at their job, they killed without remorse, carried out orders single-mindedly, they were frankly scary, but they did look old now, not in uniform, not during a mission, not covered in blood, they looked human now.
He didn't have too much time to dwell on it for much longer, he didn't want to displease them, he showed them around the house, "As you will be aware, you're going to be provided with the furniture and everything."
Jack had sped off into the garden after checking out the rooms and kitchen and bathroom and stuff, and just next door someone looked over the fence at him "Who are you?"
"Who are you?"
"I asked first."
"Jack."
"Last name?"
"Ehhhhhh?? It's long."
"How long?"
"16 letters, 17 if we include the dash." Mental maths was never his strong suit.
"So then what is it?"
"Braginsky-Kirkland."
"That's 17 letters, 18 with the dash."
"Don't be weird about it, what is your name."
"Ludwig Belichmidt."
"What are you, German?"
"What are you, Russian Costco?"
That was a fair thing to say, the boy, Ludwig, asked "So what are you doing here anyways, no one has lived there in ages!"
"We're going to live here in a bit, I think."
"Jack who are you talking to?" Alfred called from inside, something made redundant by Alfred walking into the garden, someone yelled something in German that neither could understand, Ludwig yelled back, and someone else came out.
Immediately the tension on the room...err...outdoors, thickened "Jack who is this you're talking to?"
"Oh, that's Ludwig."
"And that's Jack the Russian Costco!"
Both Alfred and whoever that oddly pale kid across the fence was, were concerned, Jack the Russian Costco?? The two seemed happy enough about it, hadn't they met like not even 5 minutes ago?
Did Jack's animal magnetism work on humans too or something because this was odd, Jack continued "I don't know who he is though."
"Gilbert Belichmidt at your service." They tried to shake hands over the fence but Jack was a bit too short for that.
Jack laughed a little "So you're brothers! Yiu don't look like eachother at all."
"I'm too awesome for that." He didn't elaborate further and glared at Alfred, waiting for him to introduce himself
"Alfred F. Um....Um...Braginsky-Kirkland at your service."
Ludwig asked "What does the F stand for?" Jack also wanted to know that actually, Alfred always avoided the question when he asked, "Yea Alfie what does it stand for?"
He looked a little embarrassed "Ok fine, only because I know you're not going to stop pestering me Jack."
He took a breath, flushed a bit "It stands for Fly-From-Fornication."
Jack and Gilbert lost their collective shits while Ludwig was doing the maths.
"Wait, wait, wait, does that mean your full name is 41 letters long, without the dashes?"
Alfred hadn't actually done the maths before but that sounded about right "Yea, unfortunately."
Gilbert looked at the two closely, "You don't look like brothers either?"
Briskly "Adopted, I got my brother, hes got her sister, so I mean. We aren't related but we are in the same family."
"Fuckin' weird, who are your parents anyways then?"
Alfred really didn't want to call Arthur and Ivan his dads, not yet at least, but if he was to keep their cover then he would have to "Our dads are inside looking at the house, with my brother and his sister."
Ludwig's eyes went so wide "A man can marry a man? I didn't know that!"
"I mean, yeah you can, just don't ask Opa, I don't think he would be very pleased about it ok?"
Matthew sidled outside with Eleanor in tow, Jack and Ludwig were vibing so hard over the fence that a couple squirrels had come to watch.
"Gilbert, this is my brother Matthew, and that's Jack's sister Eleanor."
She was far too short to see over the fence, so she thumped against it and said "I'm here too."
Gilbert analysed all of them, he gave not half a mind to whatever Ludwig and Jack were doing because whatever it was was incredibly strong in the vibe department, Matthew did look a lot like Alfred, Eleanor a lot like Jack except she looked a little more predisposed to violence, just based off vibes. It may have also been because she was short and was staring up at him with very green eyes, with murder in them.
He lingered too long on Alfred for some reason, curse him, he shouldn't take the Lord's name in vain but Christ was this not a good sign at all for him.
Opa called them, they had to go, Jack and Ludwig already had hit it off so well that they already high fived to the best of thier ability over the fence, which missed but the sentiment was still there.
Arthur and Ivan finally came out to check out the garden with Antonio, spacious, had a tree, had space for flower beds, they knew they didn't have a choice but really this place was good.
The furniture was still to arrive, but yes, it was good, arranging the furniture would be an undertaking but they had done it so many times before that it really was no big deal "This is a pretty nice place, who were you talking to Jack, Alfred?"
"Neighbours, they're really nice!"
Jack really did like the neigbours, he barely knew Ludwig but he wanted to have so much fun with him.
Alfred made an odd little face, Arthur could recognise that, he hoped it wasn't but it was there clear as day, what is is I'm not telling you, fuck you, but you can probably figure it out "Yea...they're fine I guess."
Ivan clapped his hands, what he thought was lightly, it was not lightly, "Right, so who is hungry?"
Everyone save for Arthur was very much hungry, Arthur probably was too he just couldn't tell too well.
The arrangements were done inside with Antonio, the same signature was used as were with the rest of the housing documents so the government wouldn't get too concerned, they were good at this, they wouldn't slip up too easily.
Ivan remembered seeing a McDonalds on the way here, couldn't be more than a couple minutes walk, so they did just that, bidding a very surprised Antonio with the documents, the man still wasn't sure any of this actually happened.
"Lo siento, what the fuck was that?
No one answered him so he went about his day and getting the documents back to the agency without being too odd about it, the children were hungry and it wasn't every day they got to go outside of the protection of the agency building and even rarer that they got proper fast food!
The agency liked testing nutrient mixtures on them, and while some of them were indeed quite nutritious, most of them tasted like ass, not like Alfred particularly cared, the man was hungry most of the time and well, he was also quite heavy because of it, it might've tasted bad but eh he was hungry.
They all had big appetites, and none of them had eaten since last night, the total cost of food for the 6 of them came to nearly 45 pounds, which was a lot, but all the children fucking loved it, they all had a healthy appetite, Arthur had to be mildly cajoled into eating something, but he did eventually, the spare food was taken to be eaten in the bus.
The bus ride was...boring, as expected, everyone was awake this time, going back had them leave the children, they could practically feel the gossip crawling up their spine as they walked through the halls, doing it together made it considerably worse, they had been summoned by Yao again, this.
This could actually maybe not go too bad.
Maybe.
But christ Arthur was full, he needed his coffee, but according to Ivan he looked a bit more human so that was something.
"Come in you two. I've been expecting this."
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skullaton · 1 year
Text
Chapter 2: You should head back
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Wally Darling / GN Reader Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8
Rating: M
Summary:
The city is full of people. Then why did it feel so lonely? Memories of clinking bottles and dazzling neon lights flickered through your mind. Misty, car filled streets with humans, but no humanity. A bridge and a phonebooth. And a sweet voice that wanted you to come home. You’ve wandered too far, and you don’t know how to get back. But don’t worry! You’ve made some friends from a colourful town that can help you!
TW: Childhood trauma, scopophobia, alcohol references AO3 link: here Wally logo by Clown
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A low buzz of static hummed throughout your living room.
You were alone again.
It wasn’t new to be alone.
Your mom worked multiple shifts, and your teenage sister was often out late.
Your dad had been out of the picture for a long time.
You sat on the verdant shag rug as you leafed through the spines of old VHS tapes on your entertainment centre. Tempting titles such as Pokemon or Doraemon called for you to pick them, but there was one that you always meandered back to.
There was a worn, yellow plastic tape, the sticker long faded from years of use.
Welcome Home.
Your mom picked it out at a second-hand shoppe - probably to get you off her back while she shopped for other things.
It quickly became one of your favourite shows.
It felt like a nice little respite from the world. A home away from home.
You also loved the fact that the artist segment changes every time you watch it!
It must be a new feature for VCR players, because none of your other tapes did that!
You popped the VHS into the player, the gears winding the tape.
The rainbow show lit up the room, like a beacon of life in this dreary existence.
The opening title of the show rolled. You hummed to it as you got comfortable on the floor, your tiny legs kicking in the air as you lay on your stomach.
The segment started, the main character behind an easel peaking out, paintbrush in hand.
“Hello, neighbour!”
----
Your heavy eyelids blinked as consciousness pulled you out of your deep slumber. You sucked in a deep breath of air as you stretched your sore limbs.
What a day, yesterday.
You rolled to your side as the reality of waking up connected in your brain. You tiredly stared at the rows of storeroom shelves, internally cursing yourself.
Guess it was all real.
You fumbled out of your blanket cocoon and wobbled your way to the door. You were greeted with the same towering, multi-limbed creature from yesterday. There was something comforting about him today, though. He felt more realistic. Kind.
He was stocking his shelves dutifully before looking up to you. He held in a chuckle. “Good morning! You look like you slept well.”
You gave him a groggy ‘huh?’
He responded simply by pointing at your hair.
Your hand went up to touch the literal bird’s nest that sat on your scalp. You hurriedly ran your fingers through the locks, flattening out whatever imperfections. An embarrassed blush crossed your features.
He chuckled once again. “If you want, you can use the shower. I can find you a fresh pair of clothes.”
“You sell clothes?” Your sleepy voice cracked in surprise.
“More like I special order clothes for Julie. The only thing is that silly little girl always forgets to pick up her orders.”
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “Wouldn’t she be mad if you looked through her orders?”
He gave a dismissive wave of a hand as he moved his way to a few boxes behind the front counter. “If I told her that it was for you, she’d probably assume it was for ‘dress up party’ purposes. So I don’t think she’d mind.”
You tried not to think about the ethical and legal implications of going through your customer’s stuff. Arguing probably wouldn’t help you in this case.
He pulled out a pair of high waisted flare jeans and a muted rainbow top. He offered them with one set of hands, while the others went to seal the boxes back up.
Dang, multitasking to the extreme.
You gratefully accepted the clothes. “You sure this is okay…?”
He gave you a caring smile, dismissing your concern, “Go get washed up.”
You bowed your head in thanks, padding your way to the bathroom.
**
A shower will help you feel human again in this insane puppet world.
Turning on the faucet, hot steam clouded the tiny washroom. Dipping into the warm waters, you felt your woes and worries wash down the drain.
Your mind wandered to Howdy. He sure helped you a lot. His generosity knows no bounds. Maybe you should help him in some way? Maybe pay back your debt by cleaning up the bodega a bit?
Yeah, that sounds good. It must be hard being the only worker.
You stepped out of the shower, wrapping a spare towel around your body. You swiped a hand across the clouded mirror, giving a good look at yourself.
That husk of a human from last night looked more alive. Colour was back in your face, and the fine lines around your eyes seemed to have lightened.
Those retinol treatments you were doing probably helped a lot with your complexion.
Despite everything, you’re still you!
Tossing on the retro styled clothes, you embarked on the new day.
**
”What can I do to help?”
“Really, you don’t need to do anything.”
You released a stubborn sigh, arms folding across your chest. You stared at the bug man from across the counter. “I really want to help you, Howdy. I want to help pay off my debt.”
The salesman weighed the options. He gave a resigned sigh. “Alright, but you have to follow the price guides of the bodega!”
You quirked a brow. “Price guides?”
He gestured to the ‘100% off!’ sign on the window pane.
Your brows furrowed as you scoffed. “How does that even work?”
“Well, people pay in jokes, ideas, or observations!” He then pointed to an apple display adjacent to the front counter. A sign on it read ‘1 Apple for 1 Joke’.
There’s no way these silly Muppets live in capitalism-free town. “How does commerce even work, then? How do you pay for goods being imported to your shop?”
Howdy put a finger up to his lips as he smirked. “Trade secrets! Maybe you’ll find out some day, young Grasshopper!”
You released a defeated huff.
“Besides, there’s more to life then pointless currency. Sometimes the most valuable things are your friend’s company and wise words!”
They really did live in a commune. In a sense, you envied them.
The morning tolled on, and he instructed little things on how he ran the bodega. You helped by stocking some shelves and sweeping the floors. Before you knew it, it was midday.
The door chimed as a pair of customers sauntered in. Your breath hitched as you saw a 7 foot, bumbling blue dog plod through the doorway. You were tempted to hide behind a shelf,… that is, until your eyes landed on the shorter man walking behind him.
A smile stretched across your face, “Hello, Wally!”
The cardigan-clad puppet gave you an all-encompassing grin, “Hello, neighbour!”
“Oh, is this the kid you were talking about?” the dog rumbled in a deep baritone.
Your skin prickled at the term ‘kid.’ You were quite obviously not a kid.
Wally regarded the towering puppet with a nod. The giant mock Blue’s Clues character offered a wave, “Welcome to Home! The next Big City this side of the forest! I’m Barnaby, by the way.”
You assuaged the temporary anger and introduced yourself with a little wave. Howdy, who was behind the front counter, called out to the new patrons. “What can I get for you fellas?”
Barnaby put up two fingers, “Two hot dogs, please!”
“Two dogs wrapped in yellow and red bow ties, with all the fixin's, comin’ right up!” The caterpillar’s limbs went to work as he swiveled around to the hot dog machine. He loaded the dogs up with whipped cream, onions, ketchup, mustard, and a cherry.
Imagining the taste made you shiver.
He offered the food to the pair, while another set of hands punched in the order on the cash register. “And how will you be paying today?”
Barnaby gave a smug smile. “Why did the baby cookie cry?”
A pause.
“Its mother was a wafer so long.”
Howdy erupted in a boisterous laugh, one of his hands going down to slap his knee. Even you smirked at the atrocious dad joke. He rubbed a tear away from his eye as he regarded Wally. “And how about you?”
Wally gave his signature hum as he rolled his head to the side. “What do you call an insect who can’t get out of bed?”
You peered at him expectantly.
“A bedbug!”
Howdy offered a sympathetic chuckle, the joke not landing as hard as Barnaby’s. He punched the jokes on the register, the receipt screeching out as it was printed.
“You tried, fella,” Barnaby put a big paw on Wally’s shoulder.
“Can’t top the town jokester, after all,” the smaller puppet winked up at his friend and they both chuckled.
With hot dogs in hand, they started to make their way out. As Barnaby ducked out of of the tiny doorframe, Wally stood in place for a moment.
It felt like minutes pass until he finally regards you. “Would you like to come with us? We can introduce you to the rest of the neighbours.”
You bit the inside of your cheek as you considered. You still felt guilty about not paying back all of what Howdy has done for you.
“Go meet everyone, Grasshopper,” the voice next to you pulled you out of your thoughts, the new nickname cooling any form of anxiety that you harnessed. “You can’t figure out how to get out of here without friends, right?”
You offered Howdy a kind smile. “Thanks.”
He shooed you off with your new friend, allowing you to step free into the rainbow world of Home.
Wally and you caught up to Barnaby, who was happily snacking on his treat.
**
The three of you trekked throughout the colour radiant town, making pit stops in front of each of the townsfolk’s homes.
The first person you all ran into was the mailman, Eddie. He curtly greeted himself, but just as quickly excused himself to get back to work.
You watched him run off into the distance before regarding your friends. “You reckon he’d know the roads out of here?”
Wally tilted his head as he observed you, still just casually holding his hot dog. “I think his route takes him further from the City.”
You gave a sad, thoughtful hum before Wally and Barnaby, the persuasive of friends, convinced you to meet with every one of the neighbours.
Poppy, who lived in a barn, was elated to see you again. She gave praises and crooned over how you were a ‘poor lost duckling.’ She vowed to cook for you if you ever needed food for the trip.
The next new person was a literal star who lived in a theatre. Sally was an eccentric puppet who was working on a set for an upcoming play. When you spoke to her about your story, you can tell she was taking internal notes. Please, Sally, don’t make your lost voyage into a Shakespearean tragedy.
Julie was as excited as ever to see you again. She complimented your outfit, stating that it looks ‘oddly familiar.’ Hm. You wonder why. She offered if you needed anymore clothes, she’s always willing to play dress up.
Frank was out in his lawn, taking notes on a butterfly perched on a flower. You all decided not to bother him. Butterfly watching seemed stressful, as is.
Now you all stood in front of Barnaby’s doghouse. He was hungrily staring at Wally’s hot dog, who, to your humour, was carrying the snack around like it was a show and tell specimen.
“You going to finish that, buddy?” Barnaby rumbled.
Wally shook his head and offered the undisturbed snack to his friend. The dog practically wolfed the food down in a blink.
The yellow puppet clapped his hands to get the remaining crumbs off his palms while Barnaby wiped the remnants on his own forearm.
“I think this is a wonderful day to sun bathe,” Barnaby started before dipping into his yard. “You guys comin’?”
Wally hummed at the offer before shaking his head politely, “I still need to show them Home.”
Barnaby gave a carefree shrug, “Suit yourself. Y’know where to find me.” With that, he sauntered into his littered yard and found a nice batch of grass to plop down on.
You regarded Wally with a quirked brow, “’Home’? Isn’t that just the town name?”
He tutted with a tiny smirk, “Silly, silly.” He didn’t explain, instead marched up the hill to the centre of town. A red house sat on the crest, it’s windows watching you.
Wait… watching?
You stumbled back as you stifled a yelp, the giant windows blinking at your reaction. You tried to scramble behind the short puppet man.
He simply shook his head with a chuckle. He gestures to the sentient house, “This is Home! This is where I live!”
Home made some thumping noises in greeting.
You sucked in a breath as you watched in horror. Your hand came up to grasp your forehead. “Okay, I finally accepted puppets. Houses now? I must be dead. There’s no way this is real.”
“If you’re dead,” Wally looked back at you with sleepy eyes, voice nonchalant, “then this must be heaven!”
You swallowed thickly, not sure how to process his words. You sucked in another big breath to calm your trembling body and forced a weak wave at Home.
Home waved its shutters in greeting.
Well… it’s not trying to eat you like Monster House. Maybe it really isn’t that bad?
Wally broke his barrier between you and Home, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. He maneuvered his way to an easel that sat just outside his home. He placidly began to pack up the art supplies that was left outside. A half painted picture of an apple lay on the canvas, probably abandoned this morning as he opted to hang with Barnaby.
The tension you held in your shoulders ease as you watch his easygoing pace.
There really is a charm about him that can ease your worries.
He briefly glanced back to catch you staring, a soft smile gracing his plush lips. “Penny for your thoughts?”
A blush shot to your face as you looked away, embarrassed. Your heart hammered as you focused on anything but him. You cleared your throat as a thought began tumbling out, “It’s nice here, but I’m wondering if… maybe you have any suggestions on how to leave?”
Wally noticeably tenses. He was quiet for a few beats, his lazy eyes never leaving yours. “I suppose I can paint you a map! But…”
He paused, his expression softening, tone becoming more sympathetic. “It must have been pretty serious for you to get lost like you did. Do you really want to go back? You wouldn’t be a burden here in Home! You’re always welcome.”
It felt like time stood still as his words washed over you.
There was a heaviness to it all, something akin to scratching at a mental scab. A truth that you didn’t want to uncover the band aid of.
You stood in silence as you mulled over the implications.
He watched you as your thoughts clouded your features. He observed the storm in your brain get cloudier before deciding to intervene. He extended a hand out to caress your arm, the felt touch anchoring you back to reality. His voice was low and pleasant, “Take your time. It’s a big decision, and there’s no need to rush. I’ll be here for you if you need it.”
The pressure from your jaw released, the tension that built up now toppled like building blocks.
He really was a good person.
“Thank you, Wally.”
He only offered a cute feline-like smile. **
It wasn’t long before the sky became a vibrant array of pinks and blues. The sun was settling just over the horizon as you and Wally decided to part from each other.
You made your way back to Howdy’s Place, giving the caterpillar a quiet greeting. He was starting to close up shop, and you decided to help him - much to his dismay.
With the two of you, the shop was closed and cleaned in record time.
He wiped the sweat off his brow, his face bearing a proud smile. “You really help a lot, young grasshopper.”
You shrugged. “It’s the least I can do.”
He shook his head with a chuckle. “You should eat some food. I think I have a spare salad in the back.”
You blinked at the thought of eating. Come to think of it, you didn’t feel hungry at all today.
How strange.
You decided to chock it up to stress from a new environment.
You thanked him for his generosity before wishing him a good night. You dipped into the backroom to locate the fresh greens. Chomping on the leaves, your mind wandered to the day.
The day felt… nice. Almost surreal.
You almost felt like you belonged.
But… you really should head home.
… Right … ?
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hoodievixen · 2 years
Text
With My Own Eyes - Part - Waxing Crescent (1 of 2) (Dream of the Endless x OC)
Based off of this
Summary: Morpheus just wanted to keep his soulmate safe. She just wanted to make her own decisions. Doesn't help that he doesn't show her his face.
Words Count: ~5 K
Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, witchcraft, bad grammar and even worse spelling.
A/N: Was going to do this all in one chapter, but was taking too long, and it already is way longer than my usual chapter length. So, enjoy.
Master List
---------------------------------------------------------
Sibyl woke up, not wanting to move. She was very familiar with the pain in her body, but it was so much worse than usual. All thanks to the witchcraft she had preformed the day before. After all witchcraft and all magic comes with a price.
Unlike her old bed at home, the bed of the Dreaming way soft, and didn't cause her any more pain. It hugged her like it was a cloud. It did not help her get out of bed, if anything it lulled her to stay in it.
Nor could she think if a reason to get out of bed. She had nothing to do. The only person her she knew was what's-his-face, and the talking bird. Which those two together she had only seen three times in the whole of yesterday. She didn't feel hungry so there was not a need to go search for food. So with no reason to leave, she stayed.
It wasn't until mid morning did something make her get out of bed. There was a knock come from two doors out. Not the door to the bed room, but the door to the sitting room. Sibyl had realized yesterday, these were her chambers, meaning there was more than just the bed room. Still that was the room she lingered in the most.
Sibyl slowly sat up, arms still twisted around her torso. She let out a low groan as she threw her legs over the side of the bed. She shuffled out to the double doors, annoyed he actually learned manners over night.
Instead of find the man with the insect like mask, she was greeted by a human face. Well they looked human except for the pointed ear. But she could live with seeing that over the monstrous thing on his face. "Hello, Lady Sibyl," the woman with round glasses grated her. "I hope you are doing well today."
"Could be better," Sibyl grumbled.
"I completely understand," the woman told her. "There were much better ways Lord Morpheus could have done to have you here." Sibyl recognized the name, the name of the Greek God of dreams. That would make sense for him to be referred to as such.
"I am Lucienne, the royal librarian," she introduced herself. "His majesty asked me to show you around the castle. He had wished to himself, but something had came up that he needed to attend to."
"You guys do know 'want' is a word right?" Sibyl questioned. "Cause all I've been hearing is 'wish' for this and 'wish' for that. You can want something without wishing for it. Like how I want to put on my shoes before walking about." Sibyl leaned back in her heels and wiggled her toes, to show off her sock clad feet. While she did hate sleeping in socks, she also hated putting on dirty socks, so she chose the lesser of two evils.
Lucienne nodded with a smile," Of course. Whenever you are ready my lady."
Sibyl returned to the bed room where her boots were place at the foot of the bed, her jacket thrown over them. She knew if she sat down to put them on there was a low chance that she would get back up. Her knee and hips would refuse to. Instead she struggled to get on boots while standing, leaning against the wall as necessary.
"Ready to go," Sibyl declared, approaching the librarian. She followed Lucienne around the palace.
The Dream Palace was a magnificent magnificent experience , however everything also came with a warning. When Sibyl asked why it was that way Lucienne answered, "This is the heart of the Dreaming, most of it is made a pure dream stuff which can be quite volatile and dangerous if one is not careful."
Sibyl was once again questioning why here was safer than her own home. But she could deal with a month, less than a month even. After one month she could go home, add this whole experience to her list of weird stuff that happened in her life, and move on.
There wasn't much that caught Sibyl's curiosity or attention. She wasn't even sure what half of the things were. And door and entrances were few and far between. If anything was needed, it could be quick added. Didn't need to exist if it didn't need to.
"There are just two places left for me to show you," Lucienne told her, shutting the door to the one they had just peaked in. "Of course I saved the best for last."
Sibyl was silently celebrating that all this walking was almost over. The original ache of her joints wasn't there, because it changed from an ache to a sour. Then her muscles also starting to hat flexing. She just wanted to sit down and rest, but she also didn't want to be a bother. Not to mention once people find out about her chronic pain, they tend to baby her.
Lucienne opened up another set of grand door. These more grand than anything before. Sibyl hadn't been sure what to expect beyond them. But at the sight of an impossibly large library sent her wonderment into over drive. "This is the library, we're ever story written or unwritten is held. As it's librarian, ever book in here is my responsibility."
"Every?" Sibyl wondered, looking up to the uncountable levels, and down at the never ending rows.
"Indeed," Lucienne assured, following shortly behind. "Your own included, even if you are unaware of those."
Sibyl internally cringed. "Could you do me a favor and get rid of the ones I wrote before I was 16? I deleted them off the internet for a reason, those should never be read again."
Lucienne lightly laughed. "Every child dabbles in storytelling, of course as older the become more concise, but less imaginative. Children's stories are some of my favorite to read."
"Even the fanfiction?" Sibyl wondered. Again looking around, trying to figure out how much of the library was such. Then how much of it was smut.
Lucienne just walked past her, not giving her an answer. "You are welcome to help yourself to any book in this library. If you are looking for anything in particular, please just let me know."
Sibyl hadn't yet quite comprehended the extent of the library. She knew there was everything, but not think of stories from the far gone and the future that has yet to come. Instead her mind was lingering in her few bookshelves back home, many shelves dedicated to her favorite authors. "Even unwritten work of my favorite authors?"
"Of course," Lucienne assured her. "Just tell me their names, and I'd be able to collect some for you."
In that moment Sibyl realized, she had a good list of favorite authors. "Well there's..." Instead she decided to go down the list of her favorite books. "V. E. Schwab, Rainbow Rowell, Jessica Day George, and Junji Ito I guess."
Lucienne smiled to herself. Three fantasy authors and one horror. Truly choices of the soulmate of Lord Morpheus. "Let me show you where you can find those," Lucienne said, showing her deeper into the library.
-------------
It wasn't until she saw the food in front of her did Sibyl feel hungry. She hadn't eaten since the evening before, but her nerves twisting her stomach made her forget that fact. While her stomach still felt uneasy it also felt empty. Didn't help that it all smelled delicious. Sibyl picked up the fork, reading to eat without thinking of manors.
Before she could take a single bit the doors to the dining room open, and in walked the king of the place. Sibyl paused, watching him as he came and sat down across from her. "Please, eat," he insisted.
"What about you?" she wondered. She had been brought up to believe it was rude to eat before everyone at the table has their food. The only plates on the table were in front of her.
"I will not be eating this evening, it is not necessary," he shared.
It made sense as he wasn't human, wouldn't need to eat. He's a personification of the collective unconscious, doesn't really need food to survive. "Or do you just not want to take that thing off your head in front of me?" Sibyl teased. She always felt awkward eating in front of other people if they weren't eating also. People always saw it as her constantly sharing food, even if it was forcing it on her friends. Never did anyone think too deep about it. So she needed to annoy him enough to leave, or not notice she hadn't eaten anything.
"Truly, I do not need to eat as you do," he assured her, "I was under the impression that humans enjoyed gathering and socializing over meals."
Sibyl bit at her lip. He wasn't wrong, but it also didn't feel right to have a meal with him. She just stared down at her plate unsure what to do or say. "Is the food not to your liking?" he wondered.
Sibyl perked up, processing what he said. "No, it's fine," she assured him, "I'm just not very hungry."
"You should still eat something," Dream insisted, "Much could happen if you fail to properly nourish yourself."
Sibyl took a small bite of the food before her, fighting her throat to be able to swallow it. He sat there silently, observing her. She was also watching him, much more on edge than he appeared. "What do you want me to call you?" Sibyl asked after she felt to weirded out by the silence on top of everything.
"I have many names," he answered.
Sibyl wouldn't accept that answer. "And which one do you want me to use?" She gave him a threatening look, letting him know she will continue to press the question until he gives her an answer she can accept.
He didn't answer right away. "Most of the residents of my Realm refer to me as Morpheus. However my family calls me Dream."
Sibyl nodded, accepting the answer, and forced another bite.
-----------
It felt nice to be outside, to feel the sun on her skin and wind in her hair. But it also didn't feel right. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed it. But Sibyl practice all parts of Witchcraft beside spells as a religion. She understood nature to a point that a witch hadn't reached in centuries. So of course the sun and wind in the Dreaming, an entirely different nature would feel different to her.
Sibyl gazed over the side of the bridge to the lake below. She wasn't sure if she's ever seen water that clean.
"Is there anything you would like to see?" Morpheus interrupted her thoughts.
Sibyl shrugged, "Well I don't know what there is, so you gotta decide."
He gave her a nod and once again held his arm out to her. Sibyl made a show of sticking her hands into her pockets, and strutting ahead. Morpheus followed behind, a little dejected.
Sibyl paused for a moment, letting him fall into pace next to her. She played it off as gazing out across the scenery.
Of course Morpheus took her to iconic places in the Dreaming. Starting with Fiddler's Green. Neither said a word. Sibyl was waiting for Morpheus to say something. She had yet to learn how few words he can say.
She was fascinated by everything around her. It was beautiful, a kind of beauty that would indeed only be seen in dreams. Sibyl took a deeper interest in the flowers. She grew up with tree, shrubs, poison Ivy, and prickly plants. There were few flowers that could grow in the shade of an old growth forest. When she moved, she looked Forward to growing her own flowers. However that never came to be, living in a flat in London. The closest she could get was a bouquet ever few weeks.
They looked much like hyacinths, but not hyacinths. They were much taller, blooms more spread out and closer to cup than the star shape of hyacinth. "What are these?" Sibyl wondered, knowing many flowers.
Dream looked to her, surprised by her taking in such a small thing as flowers. Most would look past them to much more. "The flora in my realm may be mistakable for some in the asking world but they are indeed different," Dream explained.
Sibyl lightly shook her head. "I know, I don't recognize this flower, so I wanted to know the name of it."
It did not have a name. It was a small piece of a whole, which had a name of his own. To name every aspect would be pointless. "Human are the ones who think everything should have a name," Dream explained. "This is all Fiddler's Green."
"I thought this was the Dreaming?" Sibyl joked with a smirk. She stood up, dusting off her pants. "Where to next?"
Morpheus continued to show her the Dreaming, letting her wonder in any area that seemed to catch her eye. He wouldn't be able to show her it all, as the Dreaming was every growing and ever changing, infinite. But he could show her the places close to the palace, the one that have lasted eons.
They were walking along a board walk path in a muggy swamp, getting close to the land of nightmares. Sibyl seemed not to kind it much. She did however mind the rise in temperature and humidity. She shrugged off her jacket with a groan of disgust.
Dream was reminded in that moment that she was still wearing the clothes she had arrived in. Both her shirt and pants held blood stains. "Why do you still wear those clothes?" he asked her.
"Why do you still wear you helm?" she retorted, not enjoying having her fashion choices questioned.
"There should be clothing for you within your chambers," he informed her. There was a chance she didn't know there was any available to change into.
Sibyl continued to look forward, not looking towards Morpheus. "They aren't my clothes."
He wasn't quite sure what she meant. The clothes were intended to be hers. "Do they not please you?" he wondered.
Sibyl paused. She gazed down at the murky marsh water rippling beneath them. "Dude," she sighed. "I'm in a strange place where I don't know anything or anyone. The only familiarity are my own clothes. Please, let me have one thing that brings me comfort."
Sibyl could have easily gotten mad at him. Yet she approached it calmly, explaining her reasoning. It was clear in her words and voice the pain she was living through. She was indeed thrown into an entirely different realm with nothing she knew before.  "I understand," Morpheus assured her. "Is there anything else I could do to bring you comfort during your stay?"
Sibyl continued walking along the boardwalk, a hop in her step. There had to be something to it Morpheus either didn't see or understand, as she was keenly watching her steps. "Really I just want to go home," she confessed, "But I agreed to the 27 days, so I won't complain."
Dream followed behind her, trying to figure out why she was walking around that way. "How can I make the Dreaming feel like home for you?" he asked her. "I wish for you to be comfortable during your stay, no matter how short. I will give you anything your heart desires."
"Besides going home," she reminded herself. After on final large jump onto the grassy field before them she proceeded walking normally.
"Shall I remake your home here in the Dreaming?" Morpheus pondered, "If that is the location you desire, I can recreate down to the very detail."
Sibyl looked up to the sky, holding more planets beyond the sun. Truly anything could happen here. One could do anything in dreams, logic thrown out the window in exchange for wonder and enjoyment. Sibyl didn't feel like she could do that. This was the realm ruled and created by the person who owns the name branded on her arm. There is a weight of some responsibility that came with that. "It's not the place," she sighed. She doubted that he would understand what she meant. There was a freedom of being at home, or place your comfortable in and with friends. At home she could make frosting for a cake, but no cake, spend far too many hours trying to complete on side quest in a videogame, sing her favorite songs on top of her lungs, all with out judgement. She had no fear with her friends being able to share anything from her current obsession with a character's death, or her want to make a painting using her toes.
"Sibyl," Morpheus called out to her. "If there is anything you want, please just tell me." Sibyl let out a begrudging nod.
---------------
Sibyl woke up to find a jacket hanging next to her on a bed post. It was a very similar style and a different color. Curiosity brought her to the wardrobe sitting in the room. On the first day inside of it she found plenty of dresses of silk and velvet, all things for to fine and luxurious for her to wear comfortably. All those clothes had disappeared, and replaced with much more casual clothes. There was a folded pile of jeans, all dark wash, like she was currently wearing. Hanging was a variety of shirts, simple cotton t's, a few blouses and button up, two flannels, and a replica of the shirt she wore in every color in the rainbow. Sibyl was happy she didn't need to go on a fifth day of wearing the same dirty clothes.
After changing she was planning to go to the library, to see if Lucienne had some paper and pencil for her to have. Sibyl was delayed by finding something waiting for her beyond her bed room. It was the same bird from her first day, even in the same place. "Good morning," he greeted her.
Sibyl was watching with warry. "What do you want?" she questioned.
"The boss told me to keep an eye on you," the raven explained, hopping fractionally closer to Sibyl.
She held back a groan. "So he doesn't even trust me to be left alone?" Sibyl crossed her arms across her chest, biting at her lip in annoyance.
"That's not it," the bird disagreed, "Think of me as your guide. I can take you anywhere in the Dreaming."
"Can you take me to the exit?" Sibyl wondered. The raven let out a nervous caw. "I'm joking," she winked, "I stick to my word." She walked past, heading out for the day.
-------
Sybil was sitting on a tree, gazing out at the scenery before her. Her back was to the palace, but there were some rooves of cottages peaking out the top of the trees. Propped against her knees was a journal Lucienne had given to her. In her hand was a quill, that luckily didn't need to be dipped. While there were better told to draw with, Sibyl wouldn't be picky. It was better than nothing.
"Man," the raven, Matthew cawed from in the tree, "You are really good at that. You an artist or something?"
Sibyl shrugged, working on the details of the sketch she was drawing. "I've made some money from my work, but nothing made into a gallery or anything."
Matthew glided down, standing next to where Sibyl sat. "Okay, I have to ask," he sighed, "Where are you from. Like I can't place your accent."
Sibyl slightly laughed, she got asked that a lot. "I grew up in the North East of America, however my day is Scottish, so I've always had a bit of that accent. Then I moved to London for college, or well university, and I've been there since. And if your somewhere long enough you catch the speech patterns."
Matthew looked away, "That makes sense." Everyone expects her to say she's from a strange local they might not even know of. Not that she just a hybrid if three different ways of speaking one language.
Sibyl clicked her tongue, setting down her sketch book. "What about you?" she asked, "You sound American."
"Yeah, I lived in Michigan when I was human," he explained.
"When you were human!?" Sibyl clearly didn't know about that. She was now practically leaning over the bird.
Matthew hopped away from the interested human. "Yup," he said awkwardly, " When I died Death asked if I wanted to become a raven. And next thing I know I'm hear in the Dreaming, baby sitting the boss."
Sibyl smiled at his teasing. "So there's also an embodiment of Death?"
"Of course," Matthew assured her, "Though she's not like a scary skeleton with a scythe we all thought death was. She's kind."
Sibyl leaned back against the tree with a hum. "That's reassuring," she said softly, as if to herself.
Matthew nestled into the grass, and watched where Sibyl's gaze landed. He was trying to see what she saw, intrigued about what could keep her so focused. "Can I ask you a question?" she wondered through the silence.
"Shoot," he cawed.
"That thing..." Sibyl started awkwardly, "That's not his head, is it?"
Matthew let out a caw of a laugh. "No," he answered, "Did you actually think it was?"
"No," Sibyl scoffed, "It's to manufactured to be natural. But I don't know, I haven't seen him without it."
"I've asked him about it," Matthew confessed, "I'm sure you've learned but he's not much of a talker."
Sibyl smiled, "Yeah. My guess is he's not much of a word of affirmation guy, probably more of a quality time person."
"You get that after only what, three days?" the bird questioned.
"Well I have to assume as much, after all I have to judge him on is his actions and occasional words," Sibyl explained.
"Good luck," Matthew scoffed, "It's been months, and I still don't understand him that well. From what I hear, he's change a lot after he got back."
"Back from where?" Sibyl wondered, watching how the light hit the raven's feathers in a way to make them look blue.
Matthew paused, curling into himself. "It's probably not something I should talk about," he confessed.
"It's fine Matthew," the deep voice of Morpheus came from behind the two. Both of them jumped. Matthew proceeded to fly into the tree. Sibyl just stabilized her self as to not fall over. She did end up with an ink stain in her palm. "You may leave us." Matthew did not need to be told twice.
Sibyl pulled her knees into her chest, looking up at the looming figure. Her eyes squinted is suspicion. "Why don't you take a seat?" She patted the grass next to her.
He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but he did oblige. Morpheus sat really like the king he was. Back kept straight, one leg folded over the other. "If you have questions you can ask," he informed her, "There is no reason you should turn to anyone else for answers."
Sibyl shrugged, turning her attention back to the view before her. "Wasn't really digging," she confessed, "The conversation just ended up there."
Morpheus silently took in that information.
Sibyl waited for his response but none came. "Doesn't mean I'm not curious," she egged him on, "What was he talking about? And why did he think he shouldn't tell me?"
"It is not a happy tale," Morpheus warned her.
Sibyl smirked, "The best one never are." Is it not true that the stories with bad ending or bad beginning are the ones you remember best? Who would want to hear of a tale that was good from beginning to end. There's no fun in that. She could not see it, but Morpheus wore a small smile from her words.
He told her about what happened to him. How an amateur sorcerer bonded him in his attempt to trap death. If how he was confined to a glass sphere, just watched for over a century. The only one who had shown him a sliver of empathy turned out to be the one to shoot down his hope and confine him for so long. No one would leave such an experience the same as when it started.
Sibyl wore a look of worry and regret on her face. "I'm sorry," she said softly.
"You were not involved in any manor," Morpheus pointed out. "Apologies should not leave your lips."
"It's...." Sibyl awkwardly started. "My first day here... With the transportation circle. They are the reverse of binding circles. They are practically the same spell You went through something traumatic, and my actions didn't help at all." She held her hand in front of her, gazing at the thick scab on her palm.
Take the risk of her pulling away, Morpheus reached out, sliding his hand under her own. While their skin touched, she didn't not fall into it. Morpheus saw it as her accepting his presence and not just putting up with it. Oh how he wanted to pull her into his arm, and hold her tight. To worship her like a goddess. To have her never need or want anything ever again. For the passion he felt to burn bright. But that is how all his last relationship went. The brightest stars burn up the fastest. He couldn't lose this two, his soulmate, the one fate had brought to him. Dream was going to do this differently, no matter how much pain it would bring him.
Morpheus kept his attention to her palm. The cut had scabbed over nicely, clean of any infection. But there staining the heel of her palm was something wet and black. Ink.
Sibyl let out an awkward laugh. "This is not anything new," she commented, taking her hand back. She wiped her palm against her pants, leaving a trailing black stain on both surfaces. "I still have some yellow paint on my elbow from last week. If you really could get ink poisoning from your skin, I'd have it ten times over."
Morpheus noticed that sitting between them was a journal and quill. The journal was open to a detailed ink sketch of the view that spread out before them. He reached out to pick it up.
Sibyl tore her gaze away due to the everlasting embarrassment of showing someone your art work. She had been under the belief she was over such feeling. "Not gonna say that's my best work," she sighed, trying to play it off like a laugh.
The pages before were filled with simpler sketches. It was obvious Sibyl had spent her day wondering around sketching thing around the dreaming. Morpheus was able to place every item, knowing the exact path she took that lead her to this tree atop the hill. "I would love to see what you are capable of with the proper tools, if this is what you can do with a simple writing quill," he encouraged her.
Sibyl tried to hide her smile. "It's all I had access to," she said, trying to not take it as a compliment. She started to bite at her lip, a habit she dose when she's nervous or deep in contemplation.
"All you need to do is ask," Morpheus reminded her. He had  told her anything, and he meant anything.
Sibyl simply shrugged. She didn't like asking for things, never did. She wore shoes until they gave her blisters because she didn't want to ask her parents for new shoes. She'd wait longer than she'd like before getting haircuts, only once she could no longer put up with the length. She wouldn't ask her friends to hang out unless she had an absolute reason. Once she was old enough to get a job she bought all the things she wanted, only for her parents to say they would have bought them for her if she just asked. Yet still she couldn't find herself able to ask for anything, from time off, help, or to go to her favorite restaurant. She never wanted to be a burden or a nuisance to anyone in any way.
Dream could see her hesitation. "What medium to you usually work in?" he asked, inquiring more so into what she would want.
Her teeth dug deeper into her lip. "I guess acrylic paint is what I use most often. But I like using a lot of mediums. Pencil, ink, markers, ya name it, I use it. Well 2D art. I can not sculpt of carve for crap."
"Of course, that should be no problem at all," Morpheus assured her.
Sibyl clocked her head in confusion. "What do you mean?"
-------------
She wished she had kept her mouth shut. Curse her want to be a decent conversationalist. Nor did it help that the conversation moved on to other artists, and art history. Something she loves to talk about, but has no one to talk about it with.
Her regret came aft Morpheus escorted her back to her rooms, finding a new door in the collection of it all. Beyond it was something she'd never even dream about, and would have never asked for. Yet she was amazed and excited by what surrounding her. The room was well lit with shelves of any art supply that could come to mind. There was plenty of work space, so she could work on more than one project at once without needing to pick up the other one.
Her art studio back home was the extra bedroom in her two bedroom flat. It was littered with sketches, half started painting and mediocre art supplies. Her work space was that of an easel she got as a teenager and a dinning table she found on the curb. It always had the permitting smell of paint, even with how much she ventilated the space.
She had been content with what she had. But this, was something she wouldn't take for granted. "Thank you," Sibyl told Morpheus, disbelief in her voice and on her face.
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dailyaudiobible · 2 years
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12/06/2022 DB Transcript
Hosea 4:1-5:15, 2 John 1:1-13, Psalms 125:1-5, Proverbs 29:9-11
Today is the 6th sixth day of the December welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it is fantastic to be here with you today as we gather around the Global Campfire and move forward together one step at a time, day by day. So, we began the book of Hosea yesterday and we will certainly be continuing our journey through Hosea today and for the next couple of days. And then when we get to the New Testament, we will be reading a letter in its entirety, a whole book of the Bible today called second John. And we’ll talk about that when we get there. But let's dive into Hosea first. Today Hosea chapters 4 and 5.
Commentary:
Okay. So, that brings us to the New Testament like we said at the beginning. And we have an entire book, actually a letter named second John to read today, and this letter was probably written shortly after first John, the one that we concluded yesterday and probably written to the same people even though first John doesn't say who it's written to specifically. But it's probably written to the same people. The letters are very similar. It's actually the similarities that has biblical scholars arguing that John is the authentic author of all of these letters. And since it's believed that John spent the latter part of his life pastoring and leading the church in Ephesus, actually leading the church as in Asia, that Ephesus is probably where second John was written just like first John. And this letter that we’re about to read, second, John is short. It’s 13 verses long. The first three verses will be words of greeting, and then then there’ll be three more verses that will remind us of the overwhelming importance of loving each other. And then after that three more verses comments speak against false teaching and specifically Docetism. The first letter of John that we just concluded yesterday also spoke against this false teaching, Docetism, being an early Gnostic teaching that essentially said Jesus wasn't an actual human being, He was a celestial being, but He wasn't like a true flesh and blood human being and so His sufferings were not human sufferings. And, so, John devotes three verses to speaking against Docetism again and then to verses after that give instruction that aren't a part of the first letter. These verses taught the church how to behave toward traveling teachers who came in and wanted hospitality but what they were teaching was false and they were introducing false teachings into the church. So, in those two verses John essentially says don't encourage them, don’t offer hospitality to them, they’re false teachers. And then two more verses conclude the letter. And it will be easy for us to go, man, there are short, short letters anyway and they all blur together and they’re talking about the same things. But if we’ll at least kind of take a step back and understand at bare minimum months have passed here. And, so, John wrote first John as a letter and sent it out and it landed and began to do its work, and then so several months later another shorter letter, more of a note is penned to reinforce the things that have been said and to clarify, then we can see it probably for what it is, an additional encouragement. And it's not like we don't need additional encouragements and our lives. We can be told something that's true, and we can totally buy into the truth but then living it out, that's where the work is. And, so, affirmations and encouragements along the way, even if they're the same affirmations and encouragements are really helpful in bolstering us, which is likely what we have going on here in second John. And, so, let’s dive in and read the entire letter of second John.
Prayer:
Father, we thank You for Your word and we thank You that each and every day we get to spend time in it and that we get to spend time among each other and that we get to move forward in life together. And we thank You that You lead and guide us each in our own stories wherever we may be on this planet. We are so deeply grateful. And we are reminded once again in what we read from second John, that we are to love one another, And, so, we ask Holy Spirit that You help us do that. Help us to remember that this is how we will be known as Your disciples, by our love for one another. May this become something that is always before us and that we think of before we act in haste in an inappropriate and unloving way. We also thank You for all of the new territory that we get to experience in…in rather quick fashion. And Holy Spirit come and help us to stay locked into what we are reading. Even as the year gets more busy and we are covering more territory more rapidly in the Scriptures that we have it any other point in the year, we trust You. We trust that You will lead us to hear and understand the things that You have for us, the things that we need to know, the things that will lead us forward. And, so, Holy Spirit, we open ourselves to You asking for Your leadership , Your comfort, Your direction, Your guidance, and even Your discipline. Lead us into all truth, we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.
Announcements:
dailyaudiobible.com is home base and that is where you can find out what's going on around here. The Daily Audio Bible app does that as well. And you get that from the app store that works with your phone or tablet. So, check that out.
It’s Christmas time around here. We know that it's Christmas time all over the world. So, there are a few Christmas things going on around the Global Campfire. First of all, we are preparing for our annual family Christmas party around the Global Campfire. And, so, you are invited to call in your holiday greetings to the community here. And you can do that by pressing the little Hotline button in the app or dialing 877-942-4253. That will sound familiar, because that's the prayer and encouragement line. This time a year for about a week in the year we open it up and it becomes our Christmas line as well, And, so, just…just don't call in a prayer request and a holiday greeting inside the same call. There’ll be no place for it to go. This is the rare time where if you have a prayer request and encouragement certainly call that in. It's always available. But if you’re calling in a holiday greeting, call that in separately so we can keep them separate. And we’ll do that for the next couple of days and then we’ll close that window down and start putting it all together for us. So that's one Christmas thing that’s going on. Number two, the Daily Audio Bible by the Christmas Box for 2022, the family Christmas Box we do annually is available now and you can find it at dailyaudiobible.com or in the app by going to the Shop and in the Shop you will find a Christmas category and the Christmas Box is there in the Christmas category. So, check that out. And then thirdly, there is Christmas music for the season from the community here, a couple of different Christmas projects that you can purchase or stream wherever it is that you do those things. Whatever service you may use to listen to your music. So, one album is called Family Christmas and you can find that by looking up my name Brian Hardin. And the other one is Christmas Time, and we released that last year and that is by Maxwell Hardin. And these are classic in the community here. And, so, be aware of that and allow that to be a part of the backdrop for your season.
If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible as we approach this season and the end of the year, thank you humbly, and with all gratitude. We are in this together and if we weren't, we wouldn't be in this at all. And, so, thank you profoundly for your partnership. There is a link on the homepage at dailyaudiobible.com. If you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.
And of course, if you have a prayer request or encouragement or holiday greeting right now you can hit the Hotline button in the app or you can dial 877-942-4253.
And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.
Community Prayer and Praise:
Hello, it's Joyfully Joe and it is December 1st, and it is my first-year anniversary of listening to the DAB of listening to Brian and well, Jill, and China sometimes, and Ezekiel sometimes and all of my beautiful family and my community all of you guys and I'm hoping that you'll rejoice with me because it is my first year. I…I made it through one whole year of listening to my one-year Bible which before I just read it but it wasn't as fun and heartbreaking and lovely as hearing Brian and all of you with all of your prayers and prayer requests. It's been a glorious year of praying for you guys and being prayed for and I just…I just want to say thank you for that and I pray that you’ll rejoice with me. This year what I got…I just about God's word, I praise Him for His glorious word. It enlightens my mind with wisdom and knowledge and understanding. It is my comfort and by friend and when I don't have it close at hand the Holy Spirit brings the scriptures to my heart and mind, and I love that. It teaches me, it corrects me. It's life to me, like breathing or eating or drinking. I can't go a day without it, and I can't go a day without you guys. Hallelujah.
I was just gonna share with Brian like what a cool…what a cool way that's app kinda touches at different times. I was thinking today, and I remember the first year I listened through…all the way through I was just heartbroken and torn up that I wasn't gonna hear anymore of Jesus. And then it felt like the year after it was Paul and then Peter on the year after and…and this being the 4th in a weird way the wildest part of the book, and it's probably where I'm at in life, I'm 36, and in a weird way first John and…and all of the later books have tapped into something in my brain that's made me sit there going, be careful to call yourself a man of God and I'm not good at memorizing verses but this…this year around I'm repetitively hearing to be careful to say that you're a man of God. And it got me to thinking. It's had me thinking this year, you know, like am I…I say I'm a man of God but I'm falling short at certain times. And I know we all fall short but what a weird thing to just click through just repetitively in my head, be careful to say you're a man of God and not act like one. I think it's weird for all young men. But I just wanted to say thank you. I thought I’d share that brother.
Good morning Daily Audio Bible. Thank you, Brian for bringing up your father. I'm blessed he shares the same birthday as your dad. I lost my dad a couple years ago. By the way, this is Jennifer from Michigan. I don't know if I mentioned that. I truly miss my dad, but I know he's in a great place. I love my dad. He was one of my best friends and the Lord has given me comfort in knowing I can seek Him and find joy in Him. I don't need the world to bring me peace. I praise God. I ask a blessing of the Lord to all my DAB family. I love you guys and I wish you the best day ever in the mighty name of Jesus. [singing starts] I will bless the Lord all my soul. With all that is within me with all that is within me bless His holy name. [singing stops]. Have a great day Dabbers.
Good morning DAB I am the dad of People on the Waters. He is a freshman in college and struggling with his relationship with God he's finally getting hard to hold himself accountable to do the work that it takes to stay in college. He's leaving his family behind which has been a huge support system for him and he's just putting a ton of pressure on himself. If I could ask for prayers to help settle him in and let him realize that he does not have to have his complete life figured out at this time. I pray that he continues to work on his relationship with God and use the tools and foundation that has been put in place for him. He's a great kid, going to be an awesome leader and could just use some prayers. Please and thank you.
Hi, DAB family this is Helen from Durham NC and I just had to touch this microphone button to just say thank you Brian for your teaching today on unmet expectations. It was just powerfully powerful to me this morning in my own personal life, life of people really close to me. Wow. I had to keep on backing up because enemy of my soul kept diverting my attention but I kept backing up and listening again and thank you, thank you for the good word you spoke today. And I also wanna just say, Sparky I really wanna say thank you for being so transparent about your own life and how God has moved in your life. Thank you so much for that and all of you folks at DAB who are like that, transparent, open in sharing what God is doing in your lives. Thank you. Bye.
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vampiric-homosexual · 11 days
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And for days I still waited for you to greet me in the morning, and for weeks I'd look at food I knew you loved only to realize I couldn't feed you, and for months I still heard your voice come from the backyard and for months your sister looked for you and found nothing, and New Year's eve was the first time since your departure that I dared to walk out onto the yard and touch the soil, for you laid beneath it; you were born on New Year's eve, and you died someday in August after the 17th, I used to remember the day, all I know is it was Thursday, but as my own body fails me, my brain does too. 10 years ago coming back from school I walked into a garden full of puppies and waited for one to come up, and there you were, resembling a lamb except for your muddy paws, and I brought you home, and I covered you with love and raised you as best as a child could, I think I did pretty well, for you never feared me as I do my mother, for I never yelled or hit you under the influence of my own ire, as my mother does, does that make me more beast than man, to be able to raise a creature such as yourself, yet for my awfully human mother not be able to raise me as a person? Did you know I loved you when I said so, when I pet you, when I brushed your fur? Did you ever know? Did you question where I was when you were dying? I'm sorry I wasn't there, I will always blame myself, that morning I said goodbye, not knowing I'd come home to an empty yard and a new lump of dirt in it, did you die warm, my sweet boy? I can only hope so, it's been 2 years and yesterday I watered the unkown plants that have been growing on your grave, today they bloomed, the flowers are yellow, and I know they turn into fuzzy white seeds, they remind me of you, you looked like a sheep until the end, white, fuzzy, and warm.
I still cry, and I still mourn, if I were there that day, would I not be crying as I do now? Would you have licked my tears and found my face salty with grief?
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romanoffsbish · 3 years
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Stupid, Cupid
Chapter 2 | Masterlist | Chapter 4 | Words: 1,542
Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff
OC!Serena x Fem!Reader
Wanda x Reader x Nat
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Y/N's POV
"Hey, Friday!" I shout in greeting, swaying around to my break up playlist, as I sip on my vodka cranberry.
"Yes, Miss Y/L/N?" The AI replies
"No, no, no... Just call me Y/N." I hiccup
"Why do people cheat?" I follow up defeatedly
"You know, Miss Y/N, I don't have the ability to quite understand the complexities of human emotions. What I have found out is, most times it's the cheater's insecurities that leads them to cheat, and it's hardly ever on the party being cheated on. Another thing I do know is that whoever cheated on you was quite unintelligent, as you are quite the catch." Friday responds, in a much warmer tone that Tony's had built into the AI's system.
"Thank you." I giggle out, then within a matter of seconds the giggles fade into light sobs.
"Are you okay? Should I call Miss Maximoff?" The AI asks, an urgency present in her question.
"No... It's okay, I'm fine." I quickly shut her down, pouring my final sip down the drain, and doing my best to pull myself together.
I grab a box of chocolates I had purchased for Serena, and traipse into the common room and throw my body onto the couch.
"Friday, please blast my playlist." I request of her, popping a caramel filled chocolate into my mouth, and closing my eyes.
Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo comes on, causing me to jump to my feet, and sing with all the rage within me as I remix it slightly.
——————————————————————
"Ain't it funny, how you said you were friends?
Now it sure as hell don't look like it!
You betrayed me, and I know that you'll never feel sorry; for the way I hurt, yeah...
You'd talk to HIM, when we were together...
Loved you at your worst, but that didn't matter
It took you two weeks, to go off and date HIM
Guess you DID cheat, oh, and yeah, you're a fucking traitor!"
——————————————————————
I scream the last line incredibly loud, as tears cascade down my cheeks, and my knees become weak as I fall to the ground.
So much for not crying today...
I find I don't end up hitting the carpet as anticipated, feeling as if I'm levitating—I know damn well that I didn't drink that much.
I open my eyes as I feel two gentle, yet calloused hands cupping my cheeks. My eyes meet with the most beautiful green eyes I'd ever seen. Concern being the most prominent of emotions swimming through them.
"Oh, nasha milaya devochka... It's going to be okay, come here." Natasha whispers, gently pulling my body into hers, as Wanda's magic fades away from holding me up.
(Our sweet girl)
Natasha pulls my head into her chest as she settles us in the recliner, humming along to a lullaby, as she's rubbing my back to soothe me. As soon as I've calmed down, I find myself filled with panic once more.
"Di-id Friday call you?? I specifically told her not to... I'm so sorry, I just wanted you guys to have a good Valentine's day... I-I'm so sorry..." I jump up in a panic at the realization that I most likely ruined their meal, as I begin to stutter out an apology.
"Detka, calm down, sit down please." Wanda gently requests, as she walks into the living room with a tray of food.
I quickly sit down on the floor in front of the couch, and find both women move to do the same. My heart flutters as Natasha hands me the French toast, feeling extremely appreciated at the simple gesture.
"Friday didn't call us, but next time she better." Wanda states, lightly threatening the AI.
"We did however see Serena." Natasha admits, causing my whole body to tense, embarrassment flooding my system at the thought that they now know what happened. I must look pathetic...
"Natasha didn't kill her, and neither did I, if that's what you're thinking. Even if that's all we've wanted to do since yesterday." Wanda states in a playful manner, but I can see she means every word.
I laugh at the statement, the first real laugh from me in days.
"Dorogoy, why didn't you tell us?" Natasha sighs in question, slowly inching towards me, now sitting between me and the couch, and wrapping her arms around me from behind. I lean into her touch, reeling in the comfort having her this close brings to me. She reaches around me, taking my fork to cut my French toast, then bringing it up to feed it to me.
"We never would've went out to lunch if we knew.." Wanda lets out, moving incredibly closer to us.
"I... I just wanted you guys to have a good Valentine's day." I sigh defeatedly, slightly deflecting the previous question.
"Y/N/N... We couldn't possibly have a good day knowing you're this broken. Eating the food with you is actually far better anyways. We would've preferred to have sit here with you eating take out."
"We only even agreed to the damn meal so we could cuddle you close tonight. You're far more important to us than any capitalism inspired holiday." Nat adds on, tightening her hold on me.
"Hey, I love Valentine's day..." I whine, with a pout now present on my face.
"We know, that's why we went." Wanda giggles.
"Well thank you for indulging me then.." I playfully snark back, reaching out for my fork just to have it slapped out of my hands, then lifted to me with a new bite.
Wanda smiles lovingly in our direction as she starts to cut up Natasha's steak for her, while she continues to feed me my French toast.
"I can feed myself you know..." I laugh out, amused at the way the assassin is babying me.
"Shh, just let us take care of you, dorogoy..." Natasha whispers against the back of my neck, causing shivers to run down my spine, and only working to further my already confusing feelings.
"Well... Since we indulged you with the lunch, how about you let us take you out to dinner..." Wanda requests, cheekily smiling my way.
"Ooh, like Galentine's day?" I excitedly question.
"Absolutely not." Natasha gags out.
"We were actually thinking... More like a date?" Wanda says, in almost a question.
"We're not interested in being your gal pals, Y/N/N... We want you!" Natasha adds on, being completely transparent.
My mind's now racing about a hundred miles a minute here, as I hear the women I've been silently pining over admit to me that there's a mutuality of feelings going on here.
"No rush though, we understand that you're going through a painful breakup, but we don't want to keep our feelings in the dark any longer. We want you—completely, and we'll wait for you for however long as you need, if that's what you want that is.." Wanda honestly states, a loving look upon her face.
"Either way, you deserve to be wined and dined tonight, on this momentous day of all days." Natasha jokingly states, and I can all but see the smirk.
Their honesty overwhelms me, so instead of saying "YES!," like I want to, I instead begin to sob—for the millionth time in two days.
"Oh, hey, it's okay..." Natasha coos, pulling me into her, and tightening her grip on me in an attempt to comfort me.
"We didn't mean to upset you, Y/N/N..." Wanda sighs, standing up with a defeated expression taking over her features.
She steps to the table to take out the empty dishes, and I immediately reach out to grip her wrist.
"Stay..." I croak out.
"Whatever you want malyshka..." She smiles in relief at me, dropping to her knees in front of me, and wrapping her arms around the both of us.
I sigh in contentment, as I enjoy the intimacy of it all, and I find myself melting further into their embrace.
"Yes..." after about two minutes, I finally whisper into the space I find myself squished into, interrupting the serene moment.
"What was that?" Natasha whispers, and I can hear a vulnerability in her tone.
"I would want nothing more than to go to dinner with you two tonight..."
Wanda pulls back from the embrace, lifting the both of us off the ground, and squealing as she pulls me into a hug. Natasha slowly gets up too, laughing along while she watches Wanda spin me around, and stands there with hopeful eyes.
"What are the limitations?" Natasha questions me, as she links her hand with Wanda’s, and they both stare at me awaiting my answer.
I smile at them mischievously, as I take two steps towards them, and drop my hands to their shoulders.
"Well, you get to wine and dine me, and then show me just how badly it is you want me." I whisper lowly, trailing my hand down their arms, then placing gentle kisses to their cheeks, before turning around to head towards my room.
“Pick me up at 7PM.” I shout, not even sparing a glance back, not even needing to, to know I got them right where I want them…
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myherowritings · 4 years
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PART 2. LOVE IS FAKE, MARRY A WEALTHY SUITOR
SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.
PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader
WORD COUNT. 2.5k
GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut
WARNINGS. none in this chapter
A/N. thank u guys for all the positive feedback on this series so far and i really hope u enjoy this chapter too ! ^-^ xx sof
SERIES MASTERLIST
© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.
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It seemed your subtle pleas to the gods to see the mysterious businessman again had been answered, since only the day after Shouto gave you a $100 tip, you saw him at the cafe. 
You looked to the skies with a hint of suspicion. This seemed too easy— You were expecting at least a few weeks of your heart pining as you wondered where-oh-where your dreamy customer could have gone. But instead, after a mere 24 hours later, you saw him enter the store in a pair of pressed trousers and a light blue, button up shirt that was rolled just below his elbows. 
Blinking, you drew your attention away from his exposed forearms. You knew he was attractive from your first encounter, but was he always this hot? 
Sadly, you couldn’t focus too much on that since he had to get behind the line and obstruct himself from your view, and you had to take the order of the next customer. 
“Hi! I can take the next person in line.” You smiled. “Good morning! What can I get started for you today?”
After repeating that five or so more times and starting a few drinks on hot bar, you finally reached Shouto’s place and, thankfully, there didn’t seem to be too many patrons piling behind him. 
“Good morning, Shouto!” you greeted when he stepped forward to the counter. “How are you this morning?”
“Better now that I saw you.” 
Your smile faltered as your cheeks heated up, but you tried to brush it off with a laugh. While Shouto had the definite looks of a so-called businessman playboy, his words held none of the flirtatious intonation as one might expect. In fact, he sounded like he genuinely meant it— Like he was only stating a simple fact and had no reason to be shameful. 
It felt both like an attack on your heart and like a refreshing glass of water at the same time. 
“How about you?” he continued. 
“I could say the same thing,” you said with a chuckle, but you found yourself meaning everything you told him. Though you didn’t expect to see him again at the cafe so soon, you couldn’t deny the instant he walked through the doors, your morning felt just a little bit brighter. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, but this is a pleasant surprise.” 
Shouto had the decency to look a little bashful as he averted his gaze slightly. “Yeah. I…really liked the...cheese danishes.” 
Surprised, a small giggle left your lips. “Don’t tell me you finished all three dozen of them!”
“Well…” He looked even more sheepish. “I didn’t exactly… I guess you could say that.” 
“I’m glad you liked them so much you came back for more,” you teased, looking down at the pastries from the oven you just stocked. “Sadly, our fresh pastry today is a chocolate croissant. I can tell my manager to have cheese danishes made again soon though!”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll try the chocolate croissants today then. Maybe five dozen this time.” 
Five multiplied by twelve… A whole 60 chocolate croissants? Were they all for him? You shrugged, not one to judge. If someone wanted to eat 60 croissants, so be it. Though you did hope he wouldn’t eat it all in one sitting. That might give him a stomachache. 
“Alrighty, five dozen chocolate croissants,” you repeated as you typed it into the register. “And would you like any beverages with that? Another flat white maybe?” 
“Actually, I’ll have a large macchiato with two extra shots of espresso this time.” 
You nodded with a hum. “Long day ahead?” 
“Unfortunately.” 
“I hope the coffee and croissants can carry you through, Shouto!” you said, wishing his day would go by smoothly. “Will that be all for you today?”
“Thank you, Y/N. I hope so too. And yes, that’s it.”
“Great. $73.24 is your total then! Will you be paying in card again?” 
He nodded. 
“Go ahead and scan and sign when you’re ready.”
You busied yourself by writing his name and order on a large cup and starting the espresso pulls. Your manager was helping get the pastries and other orders ready this morning, so it was nowhere near as hectic as yesterday. 
“Your order will be to your right. It was nice seeing you again, Shouto.” You smiled, giving him a small wave and already wishing you could hold the line up to talk to him longer. “See you tomorrow morning?” you asked almost hesitantly.
He returned your smile with upturned lips of his own. “Yeah. Tomorrow.” Before he left the counter, he pulled out another $100 bill—did he go to a dry cleaners to have his cash steamed and ironed? It was almost ridiculously crisp—and handed it to you. “A tip to show my appreciation for your service.”
“A-Again?” you stammered, eyes wide. That was $200 in two days from just his tip alone. That was more than you made in two weeks when you worked part-time! “Are you sure?”
Whether he had money to spare or not, this was incredibly generous of him and you would never have expected this amount from anyone. And it wasn’t like Shouto made it a scene for everyone in the shop to look at and gawk; he was subtle yet unashamed. Like he wanted to do it for no other reason than to do it. 
“Of course. You deserve it for your work, Y/N.”
The customer behind him made an impatient noise and you winced. You wanted to be able to thank him more, but all you had time for was a simple, “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”
Shouto nodded in response before walking to the other side of the cafe to wait for his order while you managed the other customers in line, a fuzzy but warm feeling lingering in your stomach from your bizarre interaction. Money or not, you enjoyed seeing him in the mornings and were already looking forward to your brief conversations that would take place the next days to come.
He certainly gave you something to look forward to amidst the inconsiderate customers who barely saw you as human every morning. Sometimes, that was all you could ask for. 
When Shouto left the store and the line had died down towards the end of rush hour, your manager approached you with a curious look on her face. 
“That guy named Shouto…?” Miyazaki said. 
You nodded. 
“A friend of yours?”
“You could say that… We just met yesterday’s morning shift,” you said as you finished up the green tea latte for one of the remaining stragglers from the last hour’s boom. “But he’s really friendly I think.”
“You only recently became associated?” she asked, lifting a brow. “It seemed like you two were quite chummy today.” Then, nudged your side. “He was rather attractive don’t you think? And rich-looking.”
Fumbling with the lid on the beverage, you stifled a surprised cough. Sure, you got along with your boss and thought she was one of the more understanding and kind individuals you have worked under, but gossiping about the looks and potential income of a customer with your 56-year-old manager was not on your bingo sheet as a worker here.
“I…” You called out the order for the latte before turning back to your manager. “He is.”
“Ooh, he’s rich?”
“I meant he’s attractive!” you sputtered, feeling abashed at her blunt words. You thought of the tip he gave you in your pocket and his orders of dozens of pastries. “Rich…maybe so. Not that it matters!” 
Miyazaki tsked. “Of course it matters! Marry rich and your life will be easier. That’s what my mother told me and what her mother told her.” She shook her head. “Should’ve listened.” 
You laughed, feeling only a little awkward. It wasn’t the first time you heard that sentiment from someone older than you. It wasn’t uncommon for family members or even workers you were close to to share that same advice—if you could even call it that.
While you agreed money could make a lot of things easier, marrying someone for wealth didn’t appeal to you. But you recognized that even that may come from a place of privilege to be able to say. 
“He seems like a wealthy suitor for you, yes?”
“Suitor—?” you choked out. “No! I mean— We just met! We don’t know anything about each other really.”
She sighed, “Young people and their obsession with marrying someone they ‘know’ for true love. When do you really know someone anyway?” Waving a hand she changed the topic. “But enough of that. What I wanted to say was next time that man comes in here, we can offer him a complimentary box of a dozen pastries— Since he’s spent so much in so little it feels like the right thing to do.���
“Sure. A complimentary dozen.” Finally. Work. A topic you felt much more comfortable talking about. “That, I can do.” 
“And then maybe offer a hand in marriage while you’re at it.”
“Mrs. Miyazaki!” you gasped, feeling only mildly affronted. 
“I joke.” She ruffled her hair and smoothed down her apron. “I’m going to make more pastries now. Can you hold up the front?” 
“You can count on me.”
“I know I can. Thanks for your hard work!” 
And with that, she headed to the backroom where the kitchen was to leave you alone with your thoughts in a quiet cafe. Rush hour ended so there were only a few customers trickling in, most much kinder and more pleasant to talk to than the bustling businessmen of the earlier shift. 
Throughout your small conversations with the patrons, you found yourself thinking back to two things— One, how interesting traditional values and teachings in collectivist cultures were and questioning where you fell into place with them, and two…wondering about Shouto. 
Tomorrow, he had said before he left. You’d see him again tomorrow. 
Oddly enough, you were looking forward to it more than you’d like to admit. 
— ✩ —
It was the fifth day of the week, the fifth time he had seen you at the cafe, and he was already tempted to see you again. Would it be invasive to get another pastry after work? Would you even be there working at that hour?
Shouto saw you this morning (along with all the other mornings before that) and yet he couldn’t quell the pull he felt towards you with only the short interaction time you had together. But he would take what he could get without being weird. 
He had been told in the past he could be too forward and dysregulate his feelings and scare people off, and that wasn’t something he wanted to risk with you, though he was certainly much better at it now with learning and practice. If he was reading things correctly, you at least seemed to enjoy seeing him during your shift. 
“You got more pastries, sir?” an employee from the medical supplies sector asked him gleefully. “I swear they get better each time!”
Shouto nodded with a smile. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll be sure to relay your compliment.”
With the dozens of pastries he’s been ordering from your cafe (each order seeming to grow every time he visited after realizing just how much his employees enjoyed it), he would place them around the breakrooms and staff kitchens in the establishment. Those areas were always fully stocked with drinks and sandwiches and chocolates in case anyone needed a little boost, but nothing seemed to bring as much comfort as freshly baked pastries did. And a different baked good almost everyday seemed to give people more to get excited about. 
He owed it all to your sales’ pitch and blinding smile that made him want to buy it. And your personality, of course.
His Personal Secretary had started to wonder why she no longer was tasked with his early morning coffee runs, and Shouto had to find a way to answer without saying it was because there was a barista he wanted to keep talking to. 
Not even he was that shameless. 
The first time, his PS had just called in sick and Shouto decided he might as well head to a cafe himself for the first time in a while. He worried he might have been rusty while ordering, but you did such a good job at being welcoming and guiding the transaction that he found himself actually enjoying it. (Enjoying you, maybe. But it was too soon to admit that.) 
And now, after that initial meeting, he decided it was worth half an hour of his day to give his PS some early morning break time and visit the cafe himself. 
It was worth it so much, in fact, that the next morning on a Saturday, despite most of his employees being given the weekend off, he still went to buy some coffee and pastries. 
“Good morning!” an older lady called as he entered the front doors. Shouto had seen her assisting in shifts and baking pastries when you were busy working the cash register. “What can I get started for you today?”
He looked around the store—relatively quiet compared to the rush hour during the weekdays—and to his disappointment, saw no sight of you. 
The current barista laughed, seeming to read his very thoughts. “Looking for someone? Y/N perhaps?”
His gaze shot up, feeling like a kid getting caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to by his guardian. Cautiously, he gave a small nod. 
“‘Fraid they have the weekends off, actually,” the lady—her name tag read Miyazaki—said. “But don’t look so down, they’ll be back on Monday morning to greet you with a smile.”
He nodded again, feeling his face heat up. Was he that transparent or did Miyazaki just know too much? “Thank you, ma’am.”
She chuckled, waving him over. “No need to be so formal. Now, is there anything I can get for you? Or were you just visiting in hopes of asking our dear Y/N out?”
“No— I…” Shouto felt himself averting his gaze. “I’ll order something.”
At his apparent discomfort, her mischievous gaze softened. “Of course, hon. Sorry for teasing too much. I was just excited seeing how adorable you and Y/N were.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, that’s not my business. Anyway. What can I get started for you?”
He asked for a macchiato and a couple dozen of today’s pastries, paid, and tipped. (Though, it was initially met with a blatant rejection. He didn’t take it too hard; he knew some older members of society thought of tips as insulting and he’d never force anyone to take a tip if it made them feel bad. But after offering again, she thankfully accepted it.)
When he left the cafe, although the exchange was pleasant enough, Shouto still found himself disappointed he wasn’t able to see you. 
At least he had something to look forward to next Monday morning, though part of him wished the day would somehow come sooner. 
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a/n: hope u enjoyed miyazaki’s words of wisdom u.u FHKDF i’m totally kidding, but if ur asian like me then u kNOW what convos like that are like omg ,, just had my mom and two grandmas tell me that recently :’/ kskskfd but anyway i hope u enjoyed this chapter and liked seeing a glimpse of shouto’s thoughts ;3 tysm for reading!
what to expect in the next part:
more shouto and y/n :>
maybe some ~flirting~ pfft idk idk u.u
some minor...misunderstandings 
“hello, zuko here” vibes
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casuallyimagining · 3 years
Text
Fix You (2)
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hybrid!Min Yoongi x female!reader
Summary: When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal? Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, fluff Word Count: 2,987 Rating: M Warnings (may not appear in every part): minor character is a dick to animals, mentions of a gun, main character injury (non-serious), discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm
Notes: Banner by @birbdae; thanks to @voiceswithoutlips, @taetaesbaebaepsae​, and @hoebii​​ for editing this for me.
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When you woke up, the cat was nowhere to be found, and your pillow was missing. It was just your luck that the random cat you had saved would end up being a kleptomaniac. You sighed and began to get ready for your day. It wasn’t like you could do anything about it. The cat was probably scared and confused, and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to be comfortable.
As you passed your TV stand, you bent down to peer underneath it. Copper eyes stared back at you. You greeted the cat and his tail swished back and forth against the floor, annoyed. So he wasn’t into mornings, then.
Heading into the kitchen, you quickly made yourself a cup of coffee. If the cat wasn’t a morning person, then you would probably get along. You were an early riser, but that was mostly due to insomnia, not because you actually enjoyed being awake.
You brought him the rest of the chicken you had cut up the night before, prepared with his morning dose of the antibiotics. Laying down on the floor, you pushed the plate under the TV stand for him.
He sniffed at the chicken, eyes not leaving your face as he started to eat. His canines were long and pointy, you noticed, and if you paid attention when his mouth was closed, you could barely see the tip of the right one poking out from his lips.
“I’m going to go shopping today to get you some stuff.” The cat didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. He was a cat. “I know you’re feeling better, but please try not to jump on stuff. You’ll hurt yourself more, and I really can’t afford another weekend trip to the vet.” His copper eyes seemed to soften at that for a moment before hardening back into a glare.
You weren’t sure what you did to make the cat constantly glare at you. Maybe he had a resting grouch face. Maybe he was just uncomfortable in his new surroundings. You hoped that, if nothing else, he would eventually warm up to you. All the pets you’d had in the past had opened up to you right away, although you supposed that was because they were babies when your family had adopted them. You’d never adopted an adult cat before.
“Eat up,” you told him before pushing yourself off the floor. “I’ll be back soon.”
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The pet store was larger than you remembered it being. When you were a kid shopping with your mother for your pets, there were only a few departments in the store. There was, of course, sections for cats and dogs, as well as areas for fish, birds, reptiles, and small mammals. Now though, in addition to the old departments, there were additional sections for hybrids of all kinds--there was even a department dedicated to large and exotic hybrids like lions, panthers, giraffes, and elephants.
Hybrids weren’t a new species by any means, but it had only been in the past decade or so that people had fully started to embrace them in society. Before, shops that catered to hybrids were usually small and boutique--hybrids used to only be seen as pets or servants, and ones that lived without ownership were few and far between. But after fighting for and receiving the rights they deserved, hybrids had become more prevalent in society. There was even a hybrid serving in the president’s cabinet, and quite a few serving in other high-ranking government positions.
You wandered through the cat section of the pet store, unsure of what to buy. You had a couple toys in your cart--catnip mice and little springs and balls that had bells in them. You knew the cat was somehow going to act offended by them, but you reminded yourself that he’s a cat, and indoor cats needed something to stimulate their minds.
You also had put some cat shampoo in your cart. The cat was dirty, and you weren’t sure how much blood was going to be caked into his fur under the bandage, so you figured a bath was somewhere in his immediate future.
Sighing, you grabbed a bag of air-dried food. He would probably hate that, too, but you couldn’t keep feeding him raw chicken. For one thing, you couldn’t stand the feel of it, and the less you had to touch the raw meat, the better. But also, chicken was expensive, and while your job paid decently, you weren’t sure how well it could support an all-raw diet for the cat. This air-dried food was turkey and salmon, and would be the next closest thing to raw.
Eventually, you would probably end up getting the cat a cat tree, but you didn’t think it was a good idea right now. With his shoulder injury, he really shouldn’t be climbing or jumping, and a cat tree would only invite that more. So you left the aisle, even though they had a tree that had a little house you knew he would love to hide in.
Before checking out, you stopped by the little kiosk that sold ID tags and collars. You knew he would hate wearing a collar, but if he ever escaped, you wanted to know someone could return him to you. You would ask the vet about microchipping later, but for now, a collar would have to do. Looking at the options, you couldn’t help but laugh. Most of the plain collars were pink or had things like little butterflies on them. A few had bells, which you knew he would find absolutely repulsive, and a couple others had bowties. You considered a dark blue plaid one with a bowtie, but decided against it. As cute as he would look, you knew the cat would probably bite you if you went anywhere near him with it.
You settled on a collar covered in piano keys. It was the plainest one they had in stock that wasn’t bright pink. You grabbed a small, circular tag, too. He would hate it, but at least maybe if you picked the least offensive options, the cat would tolerate wearing a collar.
On the way home, you stopped and grabbed a coffee from the chain cafe down the street from your apartment. You were still a little tired, and when you got home, you were glad for the extra caffeine.
“I’m home, kitty!” you called into the seemingly empty apartment. You hadn’t really been expecting the cat to be anywhere out in the open, but a small part of you had hoped.
Walking into the kitchen, you deposited the couple bags from the pet store on the table. You couldn’t help but feel like something was off. Nothing was broken or in the wrong place that you could see from first glance, but the niggling feeling in the back of your mind wouldn’t go away. Something had been moved in your kitchen. Your mug from your coffee this morning was washed and sat in your drying rack, along with another cup that you had thought you put away and the dish from last night that you had used to feed the cat. You didn’t remember washing the dishes this morning, but you were still a little tired, so maybe you had and just forgot.
You didn’t see anything else out of the ordinary, so you let it go, choosing instead to go find your cat. As expected, you found him under the TV stand. He was panting as if he had just run under there from somewhere else in the house.
“You know you’re allowed to be in other rooms, right?” you asked him softly, pulling the empty plate out so you could take it to the kitchen. “You don’t have to run under here every time I come home.” Copper eyes met yours for a second, and you could see panic in them. Then you saw it. The bandage around his shoulder was gone.
Your brow furrowed in confusion. Dr. Jung’s assistant had wrapped it securely. He must have really been running around the house to not only loosen it, but to dislodge the bandage entirely.
“What were you doing while I was gone, dude?” you questioned. The cat looked terrified. His eyes were large as saucers, his ears flat against his head. His mouth was open in a silent hiss, his long canine teeth on full display. “Are you hurt?” That seemed to catch him off guard. “Are you still bleeding? Can I see?” You reached into your back pocket and pulled out your phone. “You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to,” you said softly, waving your phone in the dark. “But can you at least turn so I can see?”
It took you a second to realize that, again, you were talking to a cat. He wasn’t going to listen to you, despite how human his reactions to you seemed to be. In the second that it took you to remind yourself that your cat is, in fact, a cat, his demeanor changed. His ears were still pressed back against his head, but he seemed less agitated, more resigned. He crawled toward you slowly, the limp almost entirely gone.
When he was out from under the TV stand, he stood fully. You pushed yourself up so you could sit and examine him. As you reached for him, he backed away slightly. His copper eyes met yours for the briefest of seconds before they flicked away, focusing on the floor. He stood still and allowed you to scoop him up into your lap.
“It’s okay,” you soothed, scratching his head gently. “Let me just look at your shoulder.”
You ran your hand over the joint and he froze. For a second, you thought maybe he was going to bolt back under the TV stand. But he sat there stiffly, allowing you to feel for the bite marks and anything that might still be bleeding.
You found nothing. Not even a scab. The only signs of the dog attack yesterday were a ring of indents--scars, you presumed--that ran from his shoulder blades down to his chest and onto his leg. There was no way he had healed that fast.
But you didn’t say that. Instead, you smiled at him. “If you don’t want to wear the bandage any more, you don’t have to,” you said soothingly, scratching at the base of his ear. His copper eyes met yours, and you pulled away at the apprehension in them.
He stepped out of your lap as soon as your hand was away from him. You nodded once, smiling at him. “I’m going to go do some work, kitty. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
You were a researcher. Always had been. When you were looking for apartments in the city, you had created spreadsheets and pro/con lists and had spent weeks researching neighborhoods. And when you decided on the right neighborhood, you had debated floor plans, after weeks of second-guessing finally settling on the single floor, three bedroom, two bathroom with the decent sized kitchen and living room.
You hadn’t done any research before taking in the cat. You loved cats, had had several growing up. You knew enough about them to not need to do any research before committing to taking home the stray living near your parents’ house.
Maybe you should have.
Although you weren’t exactly sure how researching could have possibly prevented anything. You pushed it out of your mind, though, choosing instead to focus on your next work project.
Except you couldn’t focus. Your client was a hybrid-owned cafe just outside the city, and you were trying to design their menus. Normally, it wouldn’t take you long at all. They were great clients, and they had given you all the information you needed, but your mind kept drifting to the cat in your living room. You assumed he had crawled back under the TV stand. He seemed to be comfortable enough under there, although clearly he felt comfortable leaving the shadows when you weren’t home.
And then there was the problem of his name. You had no idea what to call him, but you were sure he had a name. Though how you’d figure it out, you had no idea.
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You had wanted to watch this movie for months. It had appeared on streaming services around Christmastime, but it was now April, and you still hadn’t had the chance to watch it. You curled up on your sectional in the living room to watch it, a bowl of popcorn sitting beside you. You had turned the lights off in the living room, so the only major source of light was what was coming from the TV, and it was a fairly dark movie.
Though you were invested in the plot, you still scrolled through your phone, your attention divided between social media and what was happening on the television.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a shadow moving under your TV stand. Your cat’s head poked out a second later, copper eyes watching you scroll through your social media. In another second, the rest of his body emerged from the shadows. You forced yourself to watch the movie. You didn’t want to freak him out by watching him. When you glanced back at where he had emerged, he was gone.
The movie was about halfway over when you noticed him again, slinking back into the living room from the hallway. Where he had gone, you had no idea. But he sat for a moment, staring at you from beside the wall. You had grabbed a blanket in the time that he had been gone. Your apartment tended to get chilly at night sometimes--it was old, and the insulation wasn’t the best--and you were a little cold.
Before you knew what was happening, he was up on the couch and in your lap, laying in the valley between your outstretched legs. He paused for a moment, copper eyes meeting yours as if gauging your reaction. In the dim light from the TV, you could see that hint of panic again, as if he was terrified you would shout or push him away. You smiled at him gently, resituating so more of your lap was available and going back to scrolling through your phone.
The cat was apparently satisfied with your reaction, because he readjusted himself, as well, curling up so he was taking up more real estate on your lap. You didn’t mind. His little body put off quite a lot of heat, and from what you could feel of him through the blanket, he was cold, too. Eventually, he settled in, his head rested against your leg beside your free hand, his tail flopped into the crook of your elbow, the tip flicking lightly back and forth.
After a moment, you felt him shift again, and you almost jumped when you felt his head press into your hand. It took you a second, and a few more tentative bumps from him, but you eventually opened your hand and allowed him to press his forehead into your palm. You rubbed your thumb gently over the soft fur of his cheek. He leaned into your touch and you could feel him relaxing. You heard the rumbles of a purr start to stutter in his chest. It wasn’t constant like other cats’--it sounded vaguely like popcorn, crackling and popping at random.
You sighed, resting one hand on his back and continuing to stroke his cheek. He stiffened for a moment and raised his head, wide eyes staring into your face, before he slowly started to relax again.
“I can’t keep calling you kitty,” you said softly when he was comfortable. He didn’t raise his head, but his ear swiveled in your direction to show he was paying attention. “And I’m terrible at names, so you’re going to have to figure out a way to tell me what yours is. Unless you want me to call you something ridiculous like Smudge or Shadow.” The cat grunted. Apparently he didn’t like those names, either. “I didn’t think so.”
Your attention returned to the movie, but you kept petting him. His stuttering purr resumed. He directed your hand by nudging it, up his head and down to his shoulder. He adjusted how he was laying so you could rub where the scars of yesterday’s bite marks were. You massaged the area gently, his purring increasing in volume.
His fur was soft and considerably less dirty than it had been that morning. If you concentrated, he smelled like your shampoo.
“I have to take some stuff back to the pet store tomorrow,” you said finally. “So you’ll have some time alone to do whatever.”
He froze, and despite the movie playing, it was quiet without his purring. His eyes were wide, and he hissed, but aside from his ears flattening, he didn’t move. He was scared--no, he was terrified.
It broke your heart.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” You kept your voice soft and even. “You can stay here for as long as you’d like. I want you to feel comfortable here.”
You sighed. You still felt a little weird talking so seriously with a cat, but his reactions confirmed what your research had told you. You had questions, and you were a little concerned about the logistics of everything, but you had started to come to terms with it.
Him smelling like your shampoo. The dishes being done. The stolen pillow and blanket. The things that were moved ever so slightly. The oddly appropriate reactions to what you were saying. How fast he had healed. Maybe you’d always known. Maybe that’s why you still talked to him like he was a person.
He was a person, more or less.
Your cat was a hybrid.
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